pu-erh for the power hungry

To say Hazel had been having a hay day in these uncertain times was an understatement. She thrived on the chaos and had gone hither and yon to gather as much information about the going's on as she could. While others were panicked over what tomorrow might bring she reveled in the uncertainty. Things were moving and shaking, and she was here for it. Come what may she would listen to her spirits and endure. There was a mysterious power at work that she knew she had no hope of understanding and she was alright with that. But, just because it was beyond her comprehension did not mean she could not tap into it.

So began a journey to suss out power. Barnabas had been hard at work collecting mushrooms for the better part of an evening while Hazel prepared the other items. Now he was back with a bag of them which he deposited before her smoldering campfire. Surrounding her and the fire pit were various odds and ends. Hazel had bowls and bags of all kinds. The clearing had been swept of snow and the stone below, though cold, was clear of all things save for the items she had readied and a liberal scattering of salt and ash as she sought to rid the area any energies that might interfere with her work. As this was her first time using these items she wanted to get a good idea of what they were capable of all by their lonesome.

The scene set, Hazel felt around for the bag and then drew it close with a soft, "thank you, Barnabas." She weighed it in her paw and then gave the capuchin monkey a satisfied smile. "You did well, my dear. This will keep us busy for quite awhile." Hazel set the bag down, opened it, and removed a single mushroom. She then felt around for a bowl and placed the fungus inside. Hazel then fell into thoughtful silence. She was still for several moments before she reached into the bag again and pulled out a couple more mushrooms which quickly joined the first one she'd removed. The glow, naturally, was lost on her, but not Barnabas. "My lady, the mushrooms are glowing." He proceeded to give her a rundown on just how the mushrooms were glowing. The gentle, steady pulse; how it reminded him of a heartbeat; no detail was missed.

Hazel took in all of that information and then after a beat nodded. "How interesting. I wonder why...but perhaps that is a mystery we cannot answer, hm?" Well, no time like the present. She grabbed her pestle and began to work the mushrooms into a pulp. As the fungi was moist the mixture was sticky and slick against the stone. Hazel had picked enough for two experiments. Once the mixture was smooth she planned on dividing it into two portions. The first she would set aside and boil later. The second would be used immediately. While she worked, Barnabas was hard at work too. Behind her, the capuchin monkey was hard at work tidying the space further. He had a bundle of herbs which he had lit on fire and was walking around slowly spreading the smoke around. As the edges crumbled away to ash he spread those around too.

In short order the mushrooms were reduced to a smooth paste. When Hazel lifted the pestle soft peaks formed between the pestle and the bowl. The air around her was filled with a vaguely sweet scent courtesy of the mushrooms and absently she wondered if they would lend any of that to their taste. Not that she intended to find out this evening. No, that was where Barnabas come in. The little demon and his host made an excellent test subject as he knew just how to handle the experience. He knew to relay his experiences in a way she could understand and he knew, no matter how bitter the side effects, to include them in his observations.

And, if his body died, so be it. He would get another sooner or later and same as last time he died, he would come back to her when it was time for him to. Should that ever happen again she would miss him during the time between, but as in all things she would endure. Though Hazel knew better, she found herself reminiscing over those seasons she had spent alone. Even with him it would have been a difficult time, but as it was she had struggled. First in escaping the homeland and then with navigating a strange land devoid of any familiarity. Clearly she had done fine, but in the moment everything had been a challenge. Hazel took a deep breath and shook her head, and then rang the bell on her wrist to rid the air of the ill energy she had created. She had work to do and it did no good to waste energy on what could not be fixed.

Hazel felt around for a spatula. Once she found it she used it to divide the mixture in two. Half was scooped out on the spatula and offered to Barnabas, who took hold of it without hesitation. The capuchin sat down with his tail swept under him and clutched to his belly. He held one hand cupped under the head of the spatula for fear of wasting any that might drip free. The fear was unfounded as the mixture had been whipped into a sticky blob not unlike mallow, but old habits died hard. Without ceremony he stuck the end of the spatula into his mouth and used his lips and teeth to scrape it clean. Barnabas rolled it around in his mouth, his eyes rolling heavenward in thought, and then he swallowed it. He smacked his lips thoughtfully but withheld judgement for several seconds as he processed the experience. "It is sweet, my lady, and warm to the touch as though heated by the fire."

"Speech"