Hazel was seated beside a small fire with a small bowl pressed between her two front paws. Leaning over her was Barnabas, who was hard at work grinding the contents of the bowl. The little capuchin had to lean all of her weight into the pestle and every press elicited a solid crunch from the contents. It was tedious work but the fire was warm and Hazel was at peace. Her and Barnabas worked in silence. They were a team; two parts of the same whole; they had no need to check in with one another and give direction.

When a chill returned to her fur Hazel could tell the fire was dying down. At last the silence was broken as she made a simple request of her sighted companion. "Stoke the fire, please Barnabas?" Her ears flicked as a sharp wind rustles the branches over her head. She raised her head to listen and fell quiet while she took stock of the whispers above. After a beat she canted her head to the side and smiled. "We are to have company."

Ophie had heard whispers of a witch who knew things, that she was able to answer questions most could not. The unknown loomed overhead as Ophie padded her way through the Soulless Forest, wondering whether this was a good idea after all. Her doubts were twofold. For one, this place didn't seem safe in any sense of the word and the thought of getting lost, never to be found sent a shiver down her spine. And second, there was the matter of fact she needed guidance in the first place. Begging the question: was she so unsure of herself that she needed an all seeing-though apparently blind- witch to tell her what she needed to do? Apparently so, as she hadn't turned back yet. Coming across a slight opening in the dense forest, Ophie was lured in by the sight of an open flame. Condensed breath rolled over her lips as she hesitantly made her way forward, a sense of foreboding settled in her bones as the greyish figure of the witch came into view. She didn't look like a witch but then again she had no idea what they were supposed to look like. Wasn't it just a way of life? Rather than you know...something scary and supernatural at play. A lump formed in the pit of Ophie's throat as she shuffled her weight between paws, it was now or never. "Umm, I don't mean to bother you but I heard you know things. That you could help me."

After some care from Barnabas the fire came to life and gave off a steady bubble of heat. Whether it was the warmth that bathed her anew or something else at play, she didn't know, but Hazel was suddenly compelled to fix a bowl of tea. She set aside the mortar she'd been holding and took up an empty bowl which she quickly filled with snow and asked Barnabas to set to boil. With that done Hazel had some decisions to make. Her care in deciding was clear as she rested her paw first on one bag of leaves and then another. She went down the line of bags resting her paw on each until one felt right. That one she picked up and sprinkled into the now boiling water. Hazel had no idea who or what it was for. Sometimes nearby spirits came to sit and share with her and sometimes her company was of the living variety.

Hazel's head lifted as a hesitant voice reached her ears. Ah, the living variety. "Everyone knows things. It's just a matter of whether or not they understand them," she said matter-of-factly. Hazel wasn't being humble; that was just fact to her. You could pick a flower for its beauty and understand not a thing more about it. That applied to most things in life. "Perhaps. We'll see if you need helping." She motioned towards the tea. "Here, I made this for you."

Ohhh. See that was cryptic and sounded very deep, like the witch REALLY knew her stuff! Shuffling to her side, Ophie settled on her haunches and hummed gently in the back of her throat, grateful for the tea. Resting her front paws besides the container, she allowed its warmth to radiate up her limbs. Who knew what it would taste like, but at least it was nice and toasty! Ah hm, right yes. She ought to explain why she'd sought her out, right? She was a witch, not a mind reader! "So..."Gosh where to begin? "I really don't know what I want from life, or what I'm meant for. I haven't been happy in a long time and sometimes it feels like it's not meant for me." Maybe Ophie didn't need a witch, maybe she needed a therapist. "I want to know what I'm supposed to do. What path I should take." She paused, needing a moment to really think about what she was asking for. "Could you tell me?"

Barnabas leaned over and patted Hazel's shoulder to get her attention. When she leaned over to her Barnabas whispered into her ear. The two parted, saying nothing more, and Hazel lifted her face to face Ophie again. She took a cleansing breath, then said, "No." This had been a common theme back at the school. Wolves would come looking not for guidance but for orders. Hazel had seen them leave in disappointment many a time when they refused to understand. She was going to have to be careful in her answer lest she be misunderstood. "I cannot tell you want to do. Life would be boring if we knew how our lives would unfold. All I can tell you is what I see in you. What you do with that knowledge is up to you."

"Now, if that is acceptable to you," she said as she crossed her paws, "drink your tea." The girl was in for a bitter ride. The steep was a mix of seeds, leaves and a few ground up things the girl would do well to remain ignorant of, and the tea was akin to astringent dirt in flavor. It served two purposes. There was much to be gleaned from the leaves themselves once the girl was through and the liquid itself would bring out the dominant characteristics in the girl. Everyone reacted differently. Some flew into a rage, angry at nothing in particular, everything, or one very particular thing. Others wept, grew panicked or vomited. Some grew drowsy. She'd even seen one particularly amorous woman chase a wizard around a clearing. Hazel had seen it all back home and she was certain before she died she'd see it all again.

Ophie flinched, disappointment rippling through her expression as she shifted, ready to leave. Well okay then, she'd known it was a stretch and sometimes things just didn't work out, no biggie. Except the witch continued, stating that she would tell her what she saw and nothing else. The rest would be up to her, which frightened the tubby Fatalis far more than it should. She was almost an adult dang it, why was making a choice on her own so difficult? All right. She took a steadying breath and stared down at the cup of tea nestled between her paws. "Okay." She finally said, not at all surprised by the worried warble in her voice. Bending down she took a tentative lick at the strange, frankly icky smelling tea. Actually calling it tea felt far too forgiving, it was...bad, really bad, but she persisted as the witch told her to. Her cheeks bulged out as she poorly hid her obvious disgust. If it had remained as that Ophie would have dealt with it, probably, she'd tasted nasty things before, but this was just... It was hard to even put into words. Her throat tightened as tears began to spill across her cheeks, her breathing hiccuppy as trembles ricocheted through her form. She just couldn't, pretending she felt better wasn't fooling anyone and it did nothing to quiet the voice of self loathing that filled in the silence. What was the point in looking ahead to her future when she just wanted to die? "I'm sorry I-" For what? Existing?

While waiting for the girl to finish her bowl Hazel and Barnabas went back to grinding their bowl full of goodies. As soon as the contents were a fine powder it got dumped into a little leather baggy. Once that was done Barnabas rummaged around for more things to grind. She pulled what looked like a small dried frog from one of the bags and then the pair began to work on turning into powder.

As the girl began to wind up Barnabas deftly reached over and removed the bowl from her reach. The capuchin covered the top of it with a paw until it was well out of range and then she peeked inside. There was a little bit of liquid left in the bowl and Barnabas turned it from side to side to let it swish around. She stared intently, seemingly obliviously, as Ophie began to huff and puff. After a beat she leaned over and whispered the verdict in Hazel's ear.

After listening to Barnabas, Hazel scooped up another bowlful of snow and set it over the fire. By now Ophelia was in full panic mode, but Hazel did nothing besides listen until the girl apologized. That was enough for her. The girl's feelings swirled as heavily in the air as the smoke from the fire. Hazel added leaves to the new bowl and then said gently, "Your heart is very heavy, isn't it? These terrible feelings eat at you like a wild beast." Hazel ran a claw around the rim of the mortar. "This makes you do things to feel better; things that help for a short time and then make you feel worse."

When the newest bowl of tea was done Barnabas removed it from the fire and set it before Ophie. "Drink this and feel better." It was just tea. Plain jane, nothing funky tea. "This is what the leaves say: what you struggle with is here to stay unless you break the cycle. You feed the beast and it grows, yes? If you want to break the cycle and kill the beast you must stop feeding it." Hazel turned her face towards Ophie. This was a tough one. It was easier to talk about wealth and fortune, or the lack thereof.

Her voice soft but practical, Hazel continued, "But that is not your only option. This "beast" does not have to be your enemy. You can live with it; work with it. Tame it, perhaps. All of these options; kill, tame, befriend; they all have one thing in common. They are not easy. I can tell you this," she said slowly, unsure of where to draw the line, "You stand on the precipice; things are going to change and there is more struggle for you in the seasons ahead. Things that will make you or break you. So you must decide, my dear. And," the air was heavy with threat and promise, and Hazel leaned forward, hoping to impress upon the girl the seriousness of what she was saying, "You must understand that inaction is a choice."