The day had been like any other. Eyja had woken in her small bedroom, greeted Calfer and enjoyed her morning cup of peppermint tea with some linseed crackers and dried fruit. Afterwards she had gone to work in her shop until she closed for the day. Having a daily routine that had nothing to do with cleansing rituals and meditation circles was a blessing to the young witch. Of course she still practised her beliefs, just not to the extent of what was normal with her couvern. As she sold some dried camomile she thought of her sisters and a yearning came to her heart. She'd have to visit them soon.

Calfer sat on his perch in her shop and softly cooed when they were alone. She went over to stroke his head. “I think I'm going out tonight.” Eyja told the owl. “I still need to get my hands on some Doxy eggs.” The owl cooed again, ruffling it's feathers. She sighed. “You know I can't take you with me. People would notice! And you know we're not supposed to reveal ourselves to ordinary humans.” A snap of the beak was her answer. “I'll be careful. Take good care of the house now!” The bird turned it's head to one side, planely ignoring her. This made the young witch leave with a smile. Calfer was far too worried! What on earth could happen with the Order around?

Making her way through London she sat in the bus, staring at all the buildings it passed. At first she had been intimidated by the city, but now that she had grown accustomed to it it didn't frighten her any more. The enclosure had become more of a comfort to her, securing her from the wolrds dreads. Ironic, somehow. Other people didn't feel at ease in the noise, dirt and hectic of the city. Yet for Eyja  it had become a home she felt safe in.

The bus stopped in front of a bakery and the witch got off, continuing her small journey by foot. The further she went, the quieter everything was. Then she had reached her destination and entered the Abandoned Bar. Now, where was her usual clerk whom she got exquisite and rare ingredients from? Looking around she stayed near the entrance, trying to spy through the crowd, her long hair dancing around her shoulders like liquid fire, bright in contrast to her dark clothing and pale face. Finally she found the man who was sitting at a table, deep in conversation with another. Perhaps she'd wait a bit . . .