Maeve’s wings reflexively whipped out, reflecting the impatience in her voice.
”I hate t’haw at ye after all ye’v done, but could we do tha’ necklace sooner than later?” the owl insisted, her eyes pressing on him through the glow. She repeated a familiar mannerism of cleaning her wing as a sign of her anxiousness in getting going. ”Wings are quite nice, but I’d much prefer to see me own fingers; and walk, maybe, without trippin’ all peely-wally' over these talons.”
Her plumage began to build up as a familiar tone of feminine discontent echoed in his mind, as mildly as Maeve could put it, ”An what’s it meant by, ‘youthful’? I’m… Plenty young. I’m shy over twinny-two.”
“Wait one moment,” asserted Percy, drowning out some of Maeve’s words as the dour Alchemist used his thumb to lift the druid’s head up to get a look at his eyes, “You’ve the tell-tale signs of fatigue, stress and insobriety. You’re still riding hard after that Parent-Teacher meeting on the Hawaii business. There’s no telling what that spirit journey you went on did to you. Take the rest of the day off, doctor’s orders, no funny business.”
With a passing glance at Maeve, Percival made his way into the door leading into the pleasant grove beyond, “I’ll check on you later, so best you be more rested, or I’ll sic Laoise on you.”
[The Office] An Unwanted Gift
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
"Yes, mom," Ruarc droned as Percy made to leave. Shifting his gaze down to Maeve he spoke to her aloud. "He and I are co-parenting."
"As for the comment about youth, being in your twenties still puts you at old that both the teenagers at this school, and older than an owlet. Merely expressing the possibility of your human form being... decidedly younger than how you remember it. But, let's be off. The necklace is back at my cottage across the grounds. Just going to tidy up a bit."
With that Ruarc began straightening the office, stacking his papers, hiding what need be hid, and returning his whiskey to its rightful place. Stars and stones, his head was still swimming from what he had drunk, and even without Percy's urging he would have probably called it a day. Once he was satisfied with the state the room was in, he picked up Maeve and locked up the office on his way out. Promising a more extensive tour of the school after the current business was done, the Irishman moved with a slightly quickened pace. There weren't a lot of students here at this time, but he still preferred to keep oddities to a minimum. After all, these students liked to gossip about anything and everything. Before long he had exited the manor and crossed the grounds to the shaded corner where his cottage sat. Thankfully he knew right where the amulet had been stored, and moved into the guest bedroom on the ground floor that acted as Laoise's room. Setting Maeve on the bed, Ruarc dug into Laoise's jewelry box. After a minute or so he pulled out the amulet. Brief memories flashing through his mind of when Raiko had gifted him the amulet so he could give it to Laoise. It was one of the few genuine keepsakes he had from their time together; his theoretical job and the school it chained him to not withstanding. He hesitate for a brief moment before turning.
"Alright, the first time is involuntary, but after that you'll be attuned to it and can change at will. So I'm just, uh, I'm going to put it on ya, and then beat feet out of here. There are clothes you can borrow in the closet."
Remembering the awkwardness of the first time he had put the amulet on Laoise, Ruarc now looked like he was trying to put a collar on a wolverine. Finally he set the clasp, and as light enveloped Maeve Ruarc was true to his word and practically ran out of the room before shutting the door.
"As for the comment about youth, being in your twenties still puts you at old that both the teenagers at this school, and older than an owlet. Merely expressing the possibility of your human form being... decidedly younger than how you remember it. But, let's be off. The necklace is back at my cottage across the grounds. Just going to tidy up a bit."
With that Ruarc began straightening the office, stacking his papers, hiding what need be hid, and returning his whiskey to its rightful place. Stars and stones, his head was still swimming from what he had drunk, and even without Percy's urging he would have probably called it a day. Once he was satisfied with the state the room was in, he picked up Maeve and locked up the office on his way out. Promising a more extensive tour of the school after the current business was done, the Irishman moved with a slightly quickened pace. There weren't a lot of students here at this time, but he still preferred to keep oddities to a minimum. After all, these students liked to gossip about anything and everything. Before long he had exited the manor and crossed the grounds to the shaded corner where his cottage sat. Thankfully he knew right where the amulet had been stored, and moved into the guest bedroom on the ground floor that acted as Laoise's room. Setting Maeve on the bed, Ruarc dug into Laoise's jewelry box. After a minute or so he pulled out the amulet. Brief memories flashing through his mind of when Raiko had gifted him the amulet so he could give it to Laoise. It was one of the few genuine keepsakes he had from their time together; his theoretical job and the school it chained him to not withstanding. He hesitate for a brief moment before turning.
"Alright, the first time is involuntary, but after that you'll be attuned to it and can change at will. So I'm just, uh, I'm going to put it on ya, and then beat feet out of here. There are clothes you can borrow in the closet."
Remembering the awkwardness of the first time he had put the amulet on Laoise, Ruarc now looked like he was trying to put a collar on a wolverine. Finally he set the clasp, and as light enveloped Maeve Ruarc was true to his word and practically ran out of the room before shutting the door.
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
The owl fell back onto her tail feathers, not quite used to her legs. Her glowing eyes followed Ruarc around the room, her nerves high enough to be felt. Getting the necklace around her neck was more difficult than it should have been, as she began twitter at the man's fingers. As he ran out the door, Ruarc got the distinct impression Maeve hadn't been listening too closely.
"Wh-wait! Where are you go– Do–"
The light was so bright, it seemed to snuff out even the sound of her voice from under the door. A passing few seconds went by before an audible, human gasp was heard on the other side of the door. Then, again silence reigned before the shuffling of drawers rattled, followed by the ruffling of cloth.
Clack. The door's latch turned, and the door opened.
"Ruarc," came Maeve's tragically familiar and gently distressed voice, "I'm… I'm aged... I look like a'm nearly thirty."
The changed Maeve McSorely was still human, but her age was the least of her features. Protruding from her brow, and sweeping back were a set of sculpted horns like the set she sported in her owl form. The deep blue eyes from Ruarc's memory were brighter, as if lit from within. Her curly, black hair flowed over her shoulders, but was accented by a white crown of snowy locks that resembled feathers.
Despite the evident oddities, she was radiant and healthy, unmarred from the horrible fate she met at the hands of her master. Only time seemed to have taken its toll on her body.
"Why… Why do I look like this?"
"Wh-wait! Where are you go– Do–"
The light was so bright, it seemed to snuff out even the sound of her voice from under the door. A passing few seconds went by before an audible, human gasp was heard on the other side of the door. Then, again silence reigned before the shuffling of drawers rattled, followed by the ruffling of cloth.
Clack. The door's latch turned, and the door opened.
"Ruarc," came Maeve's tragically familiar and gently distressed voice, "I'm… I'm aged... I look like a'm nearly thirty."
The changed Maeve McSorely was still human, but her age was the least of her features. Protruding from her brow, and sweeping back were a set of sculpted horns like the set she sported in her owl form. The deep blue eyes from Ruarc's memory were brighter, as if lit from within. Her curly, black hair flowed over her shoulders, but was accented by a white crown of snowy locks that resembled feathers.
Despite the evident oddities, she was radiant and healthy, unmarred from the horrible fate she met at the hands of her master. Only time seemed to have taken its toll on her body.
"Why… Why do I look like this?"
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
Ruarc had been momentarily stunned when Maeve exited the room. On the one hand, he was thankful to whichever god that may have been listening that Maeve had actually dressed; a matter that shouldn’t be as big of a concern as it was. On the other hand, Maeve had maintained the peculiar features that had also stood out on her animal form. On an inexplicable third hand, she happened to look pretty good in Laoise’s spare clothes, but that fact he kept in the part of his head he had specifically trained to keep certain thoughts separated from his familiar; or now rather his familiars. Leaning back against the kitchen counter, Ruarc rubbed a hand thoughtfully through his hair.
“Starting with the age, there are a couple of options,” Ruarc switched into academic mode, his whiskey-addled brain going brrr as it worked to keep up with the Irishman’s theories. “Your form may have kept up with how many years have passed since you… well… passed. Your spirit maintaining a rhythm of time as it slumbered inside of Six… Ciarán… and then approximating how you should look once you obtained a form similar to what you should possess. Another option is that it matched your appearance approximately to my age, that of nearly thirty; and that’s not that old, thank you much.”
Continuing to speak, Ruarc procured a couple glasses which he filled with water, and moved to place one on the dining table near Maeve.
“As for the, uh, oddities in your appearance, I would only be taking shots in the dark. Ostensibly they should be masked by the transmutation magic of the amulet. The fact that they are not suggests that whatever the cause is, it is from a magic source that cannot be masked. Either because of some innate property of it, or because it is a stronger force than the transmutation spell. They do provide a slight hiccup as far as having you blend in goes. The hair could be hand waved as a bold fashion choice; seen something similar from fashion models. The horns… hmm… I could probably craft a headband that would make it look like the horns were a part of it. The eyes are going to be trickier, but I know there are some contact lenses that can darken eyes, so we could see if those do anything for ya. Overall, you’ll still be seen as making some curious choices probably, but no more than some of the other students here. Can say you’re another druid instructor with a penchant for animal imagery.”
“Starting with the age, there are a couple of options,” Ruarc switched into academic mode, his whiskey-addled brain going brrr as it worked to keep up with the Irishman’s theories. “Your form may have kept up with how many years have passed since you… well… passed. Your spirit maintaining a rhythm of time as it slumbered inside of Six… Ciarán… and then approximating how you should look once you obtained a form similar to what you should possess. Another option is that it matched your appearance approximately to my age, that of nearly thirty; and that’s not that old, thank you much.”
Continuing to speak, Ruarc procured a couple glasses which he filled with water, and moved to place one on the dining table near Maeve.
“As for the, uh, oddities in your appearance, I would only be taking shots in the dark. Ostensibly they should be masked by the transmutation magic of the amulet. The fact that they are not suggests that whatever the cause is, it is from a magic source that cannot be masked. Either because of some innate property of it, or because it is a stronger force than the transmutation spell. They do provide a slight hiccup as far as having you blend in goes. The hair could be hand waved as a bold fashion choice; seen something similar from fashion models. The horns… hmm… I could probably craft a headband that would make it look like the horns were a part of it. The eyes are going to be trickier, but I know there are some contact lenses that can darken eyes, so we could see if those do anything for ya. Overall, you’ll still be seen as making some curious choices probably, but no more than some of the other students here. Can say you’re another druid instructor with a penchant for animal imagery.”
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
The woman's heartbeat was so loud, Ruarc could almost hear it. His new familiar took a few steps forward, further testing her feet, which were wrapped in dark, colorful socks. The next thing the druid knew, he was face to face with her, nearly nose to nose as she looked up at him. Her eyes were indeed very bright, as if they had little lanterns behind the lenses. Wordlessly, she brought her hands up, and cupped his cheeks. There was a sense of gratefulness and wonder that passed through their connection, along with a powerful wash of relief, and something else.
Her eyes widened in that moment, and Ruarc found the open line of emotion suddenly suppressed as his guest found her way to the table.
The water was a grateful gift, and Maeve drank from it deeply, realizing she had a thirst deeper than she had ever known. Wearing the face of a human now, Ruarc could see her feelings play out as he could feel them, suppressed as the connection was. Confusion still stood as queen of her emotions, but there was something calculating under the surface. Her bright eyes looked over the water, staring at some truth only she could see in the line where the wall met the floor.
“Ach, it could be a bondin’ element,” guessed Maeve, reflecting on Ruarc's point, and using her scholarly mind to help her focus, “somethin’ a’inherently prim’al magic. Ther’are theories that magic has separate levels, but there are nae agreements on where th’lines are drawn. The one that I used t’bandy about was that magic from nature was an immutable source. Gallacher wrote on it, sayin’ that it was an explanation for why magic, nature, an’ druids are ma’ch the same as they are, usually trailin’ a generation or six behind the rest of the world.”
The woman sat on the table and continued lost in thought, “You’d think it’d nae capture much steam, what with familiars easily mutable with magic like this… But familiars are tha’ product a ritua’ls much newer than the bonds they make. Tha’ bonds cannot be broken, save for death, which is tha’ ultimate stopper on magic. It could be that, these horns an’ features manifest the bond I still have with Ciarán, unchangeable, like the bond between us.”
She turned to look at him again, as if to illustrate the point, before looking back to a window as she caressed one of her horns.
“Anywho, I dinnae ken how long I could keep up tha' head-band roose. I might prefer to say I’m fey, it’s so rare that no one would have a real-life example to dispute me,” concluded Maeve as drew gentle lines around the cottage with her eyes. “It might be quite exotic in this part a'tha' world. Even better, the chances of having a fey-creature from the Isles here in Japan is so astronomically small, we could safely perpetuate the image for as long as we need.”
Her eyes widened in that moment, and Ruarc found the open line of emotion suddenly suppressed as his guest found her way to the table.
The water was a grateful gift, and Maeve drank from it deeply, realizing she had a thirst deeper than she had ever known. Wearing the face of a human now, Ruarc could see her feelings play out as he could feel them, suppressed as the connection was. Confusion still stood as queen of her emotions, but there was something calculating under the surface. Her bright eyes looked over the water, staring at some truth only she could see in the line where the wall met the floor.
“Ach, it could be a bondin’ element,” guessed Maeve, reflecting on Ruarc's point, and using her scholarly mind to help her focus, “somethin’ a’inherently prim’al magic. Ther’are theories that magic has separate levels, but there are nae agreements on where th’lines are drawn. The one that I used t’bandy about was that magic from nature was an immutable source. Gallacher wrote on it, sayin’ that it was an explanation for why magic, nature, an’ druids are ma’ch the same as they are, usually trailin’ a generation or six behind the rest of the world.”
The woman sat on the table and continued lost in thought, “You’d think it’d nae capture much steam, what with familiars easily mutable with magic like this… But familiars are tha’ product a ritua’ls much newer than the bonds they make. Tha’ bonds cannot be broken, save for death, which is tha’ ultimate stopper on magic. It could be that, these horns an’ features manifest the bond I still have with Ciarán, unchangeable, like the bond between us.”
She turned to look at him again, as if to illustrate the point, before looking back to a window as she caressed one of her horns.
“Anywho, I dinnae ken how long I could keep up tha' head-band roose. I might prefer to say I’m fey, it’s so rare that no one would have a real-life example to dispute me,” concluded Maeve as drew gentle lines around the cottage with her eyes. “It might be quite exotic in this part a'tha' world. Even better, the chances of having a fey-creature from the Isles here in Japan is so astronomically small, we could safely perpetuate the image for as long as we need.”
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
"Nevermind, this was in fact par for the course," Ruarc thought to himself as Maeve drew back, his demeanor stony with practice. What was it about this kitchen that made awkward circumstances occur? A slight sigh escaped him when the woman had made it to the table and took her glass of water. Getting back to normal, or at least mostly normal, the Irishman listened and considered the follow-up theories, and perked up slightly at the mention of the fey. It would be the easiest explanation for a human with animalistic features, so long as steps weren't taken to disprove it.
"I'd need to bring Caoranach on board. She'd see through it real quick, and she's fickle enough to poke holes in that plan simply on a whim," Ruarc said, rubbing at the side of head as he considered the potential hurdles.
"I'd need to bring Caoranach on board. She'd see through it real quick, and she's fickle enough to poke holes in that plan simply on a whim," Ruarc said, rubbing at the side of head as he considered the potential hurdles.
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
"Caoranach?"
As if she hadn't just been born from an egg minutes ago, Maeve looked at Ruarc like he was crazy. It took her a moment to remember her place, and she softened to try and make sense of what Ruarc had said.
"The Queen ae'Monsters? That Caoranach? Ye banished her from here years ago, didye'nae? Ye make it sound as if she's on tha' homeowner's association."
As if she hadn't just been born from an egg minutes ago, Maeve looked at Ruarc like he was crazy. It took her a moment to remember her place, and she softened to try and make sense of what Ruarc had said.
"The Queen ae'Monsters? That Caoranach? Ye banished her from here years ago, didye'nae? Ye make it sound as if she's on tha' homeowner's association."
Last edited by Kokuten on Mon Dec 19, 2022 9:21 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
Ruarc practically froze mid motion as he realized he had spoken nonchalantly in his his fatigue. He had grown used to the people he spoke not recognizing Caoranach's name, but not only had Maeve recognized it but also recalled the gravity of it. This would make for a peculiar conversation.
"Well, um, I didn't banish her, no," Ruarc started, his hesitation apparent through the bond. "I sealed the lion's share of her powers, and now she is... um... reformed? On parole?"
This felt strange to him. How did he explain to a druid that had been out of the loop for so long that he was dating not a woman that was not only a member of the fey courts, but someone who had been the target of a special assignment? Hell, for that matter, there were probably only two or three druids that knew about him even associating with her further; to say nothing of their extra relations. For now it made no sense to hide it, since Maeve would likely learn sooner rather than later. But stars and stones this was awkward.
"She... and I... er, uh..." Ruarc stumbled over his words.
"Are dating," chimed a sultry voice from around the corner in the hall leading to the upstairs. Rounding the corner first was a ball of fur that wobbled groggily as it meandered towards the sound of Ruarc's voice. Following behind was Caoranach's lithe form. Similar to Alva, it looked as though she had just woken up, which explained why she was dressed in some of Ruarc's casualwear that hung loose on her frame. Casting her eyes between Ruarc and Maeve as she took the situation in, it seemed she had concluded it to be a curiosity rather than a threat and so moved to the fridge, withdrew a carton of orange juice, and sat at the table across from Maeve. After an unladylike pull from the carton, a huff from Ruarc followed by him delivery a glass to her that she ignored, and a long stare at the newcomer; Caoranach finally stretched languidly, seeming rather feline throughout the entire process.
"So who is the newest stray, and why are we saying she's one of the fairfolk?"
"Well, um, I didn't banish her, no," Ruarc started, his hesitation apparent through the bond. "I sealed the lion's share of her powers, and now she is... um... reformed? On parole?"
This felt strange to him. How did he explain to a druid that had been out of the loop for so long that he was dating not a woman that was not only a member of the fey courts, but someone who had been the target of a special assignment? Hell, for that matter, there were probably only two or three druids that knew about him even associating with her further; to say nothing of their extra relations. For now it made no sense to hide it, since Maeve would likely learn sooner rather than later. But stars and stones this was awkward.
"She... and I... er, uh..." Ruarc stumbled over his words.
"Are dating," chimed a sultry voice from around the corner in the hall leading to the upstairs. Rounding the corner first was a ball of fur that wobbled groggily as it meandered towards the sound of Ruarc's voice. Following behind was Caoranach's lithe form. Similar to Alva, it looked as though she had just woken up, which explained why she was dressed in some of Ruarc's casualwear that hung loose on her frame. Casting her eyes between Ruarc and Maeve as she took the situation in, it seemed she had concluded it to be a curiosity rather than a threat and so moved to the fridge, withdrew a carton of orange juice, and sat at the table across from Maeve. After an unladylike pull from the carton, a huff from Ruarc followed by him delivery a glass to her that she ignored, and a long stare at the newcomer; Caoranach finally stretched languidly, seeming rather feline throughout the entire process.
"So who is the newest stray, and why are we saying she's one of the fairfolk?"
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
“Stars above,” Maeve reached for what loose fabric she could bunch in her hands, despite the lack of slack the smaller Laoise’s clothing offered the broader familiar. She had been a scholar up until her death, and her specialty had been ancient magic and the stories that surrounded them. Because they wove in and out of the world order, the fae featured heavily. “It’s like shae jumped right out ‘tae scrolls of Padraig.”
There were many legends surrounding the spirit that was Caoranach. Common legends told of how she was a serpent, an Oilliphéist with great hunger, mothering a clutch of darkness that hatched into the monsters that filled the night. Fraying accounts within the library of Carneath told of a fair woman who weaved spirits to life, terrorizing the weak and the poor. Modern reports, filling in her legend, spoke of how she stole the bodies of women and ate away their souls to sustain herself. To the common mage, she was a dangerous fae creature, with little regard for the petty lives of mortals. To a scholar, like Maeve, she represented a construct that was the genesis of many modern spirits.
Ruarc saw the humanized familiar look at him, before actually stepping closer in fierce fascination with the woman that had joined them.
“Fae royalty… an indispensable weaver of spirits… a fae’rce of nature… So dangerous they appointed her your life-long duty tae contain and shae’s… bandyin’ about in ye’r cottage like a proper house-mate. And… are those your small clothes, Rurik?” Maeve tried to rationalize all of these things into a coherent thought, “I–...”
The ethereal druid clapped her cheeks, trying to restore some common sense, before bundling her fingers at the waist and nodding her head to Caoranach. “Ach, ah’ve been terribly rude. Barged in with’out introducin’ mae’self. Ahm Maeve McSorley, of tha’ First Circle. I suppose this is all inconvenient, with me in here, half-clothed with yer man, but I’ve found myself attached tae’him. He seems t’have brought me back from the dead.”
There were many legends surrounding the spirit that was Caoranach. Common legends told of how she was a serpent, an Oilliphéist with great hunger, mothering a clutch of darkness that hatched into the monsters that filled the night. Fraying accounts within the library of Carneath told of a fair woman who weaved spirits to life, terrorizing the weak and the poor. Modern reports, filling in her legend, spoke of how she stole the bodies of women and ate away their souls to sustain herself. To the common mage, she was a dangerous fae creature, with little regard for the petty lives of mortals. To a scholar, like Maeve, she represented a construct that was the genesis of many modern spirits.
Ruarc saw the humanized familiar look at him, before actually stepping closer in fierce fascination with the woman that had joined them.
“Fae royalty… an indispensable weaver of spirits… a fae’rce of nature… So dangerous they appointed her your life-long duty tae contain and shae’s… bandyin’ about in ye’r cottage like a proper house-mate. And… are those your small clothes, Rurik?” Maeve tried to rationalize all of these things into a coherent thought, “I–...”
The ethereal druid clapped her cheeks, trying to restore some common sense, before bundling her fingers at the waist and nodding her head to Caoranach. “Ach, ah’ve been terribly rude. Barged in with’out introducin’ mae’self. Ahm Maeve McSorley, of tha’ First Circle. I suppose this is all inconvenient, with me in here, half-clothed with yer man, but I’ve found myself attached tae’him. He seems t’have brought me back from the dead.”
Re: [The Office] An Unwanted Gift
For the most part Caoranach only somewhat half listened to Maeve as the fey princess was still waking up from her nap, but she did cock an eyebrow in mild irritation the more the other woman spoke. This new druid had started by speaking a name she would much rather never hear again, then sounded as though she were praising the fey, only to turn around and make Caoranach sound so... sitcom-esque. Oh Mother Summer, had she truly become that domestic? The other was still speaking, better return to listening.
"All things considered, this kind of matter is fairly pedestrian as far as Ruarc is concerned. Something about this kitchen seems to attract partially clothed women," Caoranach smirked towards Ruarc.
"She's not wrong, but she makes it sound worse than it is," Ruarc defended himself, not wanting Maeve to think he is some manner of playboy.
"He's so easy to tease," Caoranach's tone had softened as she finally sounded mostly awake. Standing up from her seat she returned the carton of orange juice to the fridge after one last drink, before turning and moving to Maeve's side of the table. Immediately Maeve would feel as though she were being appraised, or observed by a hungry snake. Delicate fingers began to brush along Maeve's shoulders, then to her feathered hair, and finally tracing the horns.
"The back from the dead part is curious though," Caoranach finally spoke again. "What manner of ill fated creature might you be, Sage McSorely the Strix?"
It sounded almost more like Caoranach was musing to herself when Ruarc filled her in on some of the basic of what had transpired, and by extension the potential of giving her the cover of a fey identity.
"There are many types of fey, so that will be easy enough to sell. At the very least I see no gain for me in disproving it publicly. Learn to avoid touching Iron, though, that will give you away."
"All things considered, this kind of matter is fairly pedestrian as far as Ruarc is concerned. Something about this kitchen seems to attract partially clothed women," Caoranach smirked towards Ruarc.
"She's not wrong, but she makes it sound worse than it is," Ruarc defended himself, not wanting Maeve to think he is some manner of playboy.
"He's so easy to tease," Caoranach's tone had softened as she finally sounded mostly awake. Standing up from her seat she returned the carton of orange juice to the fridge after one last drink, before turning and moving to Maeve's side of the table. Immediately Maeve would feel as though she were being appraised, or observed by a hungry snake. Delicate fingers began to brush along Maeve's shoulders, then to her feathered hair, and finally tracing the horns.
"The back from the dead part is curious though," Caoranach finally spoke again. "What manner of ill fated creature might you be, Sage McSorely the Strix?"
It sounded almost more like Caoranach was musing to herself when Ruarc filled her in on some of the basic of what had transpired, and by extension the potential of giving her the cover of a fey identity.
"There are many types of fey, so that will be easy enough to sell. At the very least I see no gain for me in disproving it publicly. Learn to avoid touching Iron, though, that will give you away."