Peter frowns and knocks again. Still nothing. "She's clearly not home." Ash sighs as Peter hesitantly goes to knock a third time. "It's 10:00 in the morning! Wouldn't she be relaxing?" Leo points out. "Ah, but that's not how she works. Lady Rhae is wholly dedicated to her self-appointed task." Sarah scoffs, as though done with the conversation, and moves around the side of the house to walk up the hill, followed by Ash, then Tucker, Kaz, Mikka, and the three boys are left to catch up behind. "And what is this task?" Marcus inquires, Peter smirking at him as they come to the crest of the hill. "Taking care of monsters." Marcus stops, barely hearing what he had said. In the meadow beyond, are all sorts of creatures that no human could ever hope to meet in real life. There's the classics–dinosaurs, dragons, unicorns, gryphons, phoenixes, so on and so forth, but also the deviants, hybrids, and unheard of beasts. A stag, two times the size of a normal deer, with eyes a deep, reflective blue, fur white and glowing, and horns frosty white with a sort of icicle texture and design strides past, slowing to watch them a moment before snorting, twitching its ear and moving on. A herd of these beasts with the body of a velociraptor, but much more avianistic, having beaks of different species of birds and a trail of feathers down its back chirp and call at one another as they run through the grass, the size of a wolf. A shadow passes above as a dragon, somewhat familiar, with two legs and black scales, roars and dives to land on a floating island, smoke rising from the island as it curls up. "I'm not surprised. Another Drogon." Ash observes, rolling her shoulders. "I think we found her." Leo declares suddenly, pointing at the dark grey-skinned beast, the size of an elephant, loping towards them. Its head is covered with flowers, which twist and wreathe around the great tusks jutting from its mouth. It has a short muzzle, dark eyes, and a long, tadpole-like tail. Its paws are knuckled and seemed at least slightly dexterous. It stops before them, giving a yowling roar of greeting to them. A woman then slides from its back, landing gracefully on the ground. She has not exactly pale but not exactly tan skin, whatever Marcus can see of it is hidden in the shadow of her black festival hat–or is it a fedora? It has a wide brim, either way, and her eyes are green, a shade that goes nicely with her rich, dark brown hair that waves and curls around her shoulders. She murmurs something to the great beast, who leans its head into her side, purring as she puts a hand up to stroke its snout. She has black fingerless gloves. "My fair Lady Rhae." Peter addresses her, bowing, the gesture as respectful and formal as it is lighthearted and joking. "Peter. You've got your friends...and some new ones." She notes, nodding to indicate their group. "And Mikka, I didn't expect to see you back...not for a long time. Did you finally grow bored of William?" She asks. Mikka falters, Peter winces, and Tucker shared a glance with Kaz and Leo. Marcus doesn't know why he's quelling the two boys, but he understands it well enough: keep your mouths shut. "Morgan...I'm so sorry..." Mikka starts carefully, gaining the woman's whole attention. The green dress...coat...cloak? (It's a long-sleeved thing, but open in front from the waist down, allowing it to flow and move around her legs) ripples when she turns to her. "What is it?" She presses, Mikka swallowing, trying to regain herself before speaking again. Tucker beats her to it. "He's dead." Morgan stares at him, long and hard, unmoving. Silence that to others would span mere seconds feels like an eternity, before out of nowhere, the creatures all around them react, crying out and keening, as if greatly distressed and pained. Even far off in the distance, echoes of roars and cries roll back to them like sounds bouncing off a cave wall. The beast beside Morgan rumbles mournfully, pressing its forehead into her back as though to comfort her. Morgan sinks to her knees, dropping her gaze to the ground. "Who killed him?" She asks quietly. Peter crouches with her, expression sympathetic and somber. "One of Andrew's." He replies, and Morgan nods. "It won't go unpaid." She states, a low growl escaping the beast's throat. "Of course not. But we need you here, now." Sarah assures her gently, coming to kneel beside her brother. Morgan inhales, about to reply, when a cry splits the air, and another creature lands nearby. This one is grey, with massive black wings, big, swivelling ears like a cat or a bat, and its four legs are modeled after a bird's, although structurally, it takes after a cat. It has a short snout, dark and brown, with big, dark eyes and lines like the black tracks under a cheetah's eye on its face. It sits down, watching the figure slide from its back with a purr. They run over, sliding to a stop to take in the scene before them. They're young, at most the age of 10, with short black hair and a face like a more gender-neutral Anne Hathaway. The gender is hard to tell, they could be either male or female. They're wearing a simple t-shirt, black, with a black-and-white striped long sleeve underneath, overalls perfectly matched with their theme...somehow. On their wrist, there's a set of bands and bracelets, a bag slung over their shoulder, clinking and rattling with various objects when they move. "What did you do to her?" They demand. They even SOUND young! Are they related? Marcus can't see any clear resemblance between the two, but hey, it appears anything is possible now, so what does he know? "Nothing, Eliot...I'm fine. These are my friends." Morgan sighs, collecting herself, and the beasts seem to relax a little. "Trico started acting all distraught and almost bucked me off...you know not to do that, you're lucky they let you do what you're doing at all!" They tell her, indicating to the feathered beast they'd come in on. "I know. I couldn't help it. He's dead, Eliot." Eliot stops, any anger in their demeanour gone. "But you said they-" Morgan shakes her head. "We cannot tell when one will die. All we can do is hope." Eliot falls silent, now looking over the rest of them. "And these are his friends? Why didn't you save him?" Mikka stiffens, however Tucker pulls her back to address Eliot himself, earning a glare from the pale girl. "We were going to meet up, but he died before we arrived. We couldn't help what we didn't know." Eliot glowers at him, dark eyes almost black. "Now, who are you? I've not seen you before." Leo interjects, his kind, energetic vibe masking a strained attempt to rekindle peace and remove the quiet air that had formed. They puff themselves up, which, considering they're no older than 10, is more adorable than anything else. "I'm Eliot. Eliot Forven." They declare, and Morgan smiles softly. "He's been living with me for a few years, now...just after William last visited me." Peter nods, offering his hand to the child. "Nice to meetcha. Name's Peter." He greets warmly, smile open and friendly. Eliot frowns up at him, ignoring the gesture. "I should go check on the Erevan. I'll see you inside." He informs Morgan, before going back over to the creature he named a Trico, and taking off once more. "Eliot is quite protective of me, despite my assurances that I can manage myself. Don't be afraid of her sharp personality. She's not had the best experiences, and so his trust takes a long time to develop." She tells everyone, finally standing. "Now..." She brushes herself off, murmurs a few words to the beast, who rumbles and lopes off into the field again. "Would you care for some tea?"