"So..." Luna trails off, unsure as to what there even is to say.

Shownu, as he'd revealed his name to be, sits upon the kitchen counter, tail flicking back and forth lazily.

Last night had been... Uncomfortable to say the least.

The little guy isn't really that big on talking, it seems, though Luna never thought she'd see the day where a cat not talking would unnerve her. And he also doesn't seem terribly keen on letting her out of his sight.

She'd spent the rest of the night after their initial meeting trying to go back to sleep, and at his insistence she might add. But it'd been impossible to fall asleep with his yellow, feline eyes staring at her all night.

Eventually she'd passed out, in the early hours of the morning.

She remembers feeling so incredibly exhausted that she simply couldn't hold her eyes open any longer, and the warmth of his small, furry body against hers. Come morning she'd found him practically glued to her side.

And, of course, still staring at her.

Out of habit, she'd immediately slipped out of her pajamas just before the bathroom door, startled to discover that the cat hadn't even the decency to look away. And just as startled by her slip up. She isn't sure why it makes her so uncomfortable, after all, he is a cat. But he's also a clearly sentient, talking cat. And somehow that makes all the difference in the world.

Especially when he'd tried to follow her into the bathroom, where she'd had every intention of taking a nice, warm bath.

Even now, as she attempts to eat her breakfast, he continues to stare at her unnervingly. He seems to be patiently waiting for her to finish her statement.

"You have questions."

It is a statement. Not a question of his own.

He knows that she is puzzled, and likely floundering. To be honest, he doesn't really know what they should do either. Normally, it's the witch who steers the ship so to speak. A familiar is really only meant to serve, protect. Offer otherworldly guidance when necessary. He can't really tell her where to go from here.

And more than that, he's incredibly uneasy.

Shownu felt it very clearly last night, that vague sense that something has it's eyes trained upon his witch. Him too now, as a result. And he doesn't like it one bit.

Luna nods her head, confirming his intuition.

"I just..." She sounds unsure, conflicted. "What am I supposed to do now? Is there, I don't know, something I'm supposed to be doing? If I'm a witch, doesn't that mean I'm supposed to be able to use magic? Cast spells? How? And what about the life I've been living up till now? What changes?"

"Honestly, " Shownu replies, "nothing has to change. Well, aside from being a little more careful about who you trust. Although I can't give you all the answers you seek, I can tell you that much. And you should be able to cast magic, yes, but not in the way you're thinking."

He can see it, images of what she considers the stereotypical witch drifting across her thoughts. Warts, green skin, and a magic broomstick. A cackling sort of glee as someone is turned into a newt. These sorts of things make him want to roll his eyes. There is one reference, from what seems like a terrible movie insofar as he can tell, about a witch weighing as much as a duck. This particular thought makes no sense to him.

How does weighing as much as a duck mean that one is made from wood?

Humanity has grown even stranger than ever before, in his opinion.

"So... No flying around on a broomstick?"

Shownu shakes his head.

"No. No broomstick. And no hexes. Not for you, anyway. You're what's called a white witch."

"What's that?"

Shownu sighs, "white witches are those that are claimed by the moon. They specialize in healing magic."

"So... There are witches who cast curses though?"

"Yes, " he replies, "black witches. They're trouble, the lot of them. And they pull their magic directly from the underworld."

"Are there other kinds of witches?"

Her eyes are wide, and bright, curiosity shining through as she unloads all of her questions upon him. It's good, he thinks, far better than denial. She wants to know about her world, and that's wonderful. Knowledge is power and power is important, essential even, for a witch if she doesn't want to be constantly having to look over her shoulder.

But he also worries about how she'll feel when the reality of the new world in which she's found herself sets in.

"There are, " he answers patiently, tail drawing lazy circles in the air as he speaks. "There's blue witches, red witches, grey witches, and even green witches. They all utilize different magicks, different abilities."

Her shining eyes brings forth a small sense of satisfaction in the cat spirit, and he launches into a full explanation of the different types of witches, and their powers.

"Keep in mind that all I know are specs. I can't teach you the skills you need to know, or how to gain them, " he begins. "As I've already states, white witches, favored by the moon, specialize in healing magicks. Black, in hexes and curses, and power their spells with energy siphoned from the underworld. Green witches are aligned with planet earth and wield protective magicks, as well as transfiguration. That's the ability to transform things as you please, whether it be people or objects. Blue witches, chosen by Jupiter, use mind magicks. They're psychics, essentially, though a few are able to master the power of telekinesis as well. And grey witches are seers, favored by the planet venus. They are gifted in divination, and receive visions of both past and future events."

He notices with pleasure that she is keeping up with him, and so, he continues.

"Red witches, however, are a unique bunch."

"How so?" She inquires eagerly.

"They can be claimed by one of four planets. Saturn, mars, mercury, or neptune. Red witches are capable of, to a certain extent, controlling the elements. But only for the element aligned with their respective source. Saturn chooses those with an affinity for air. Mars, fire. Mercury, earth. And last but not least, neptune, for water."

"Wow, " Luna remarks wondrously, "that's amazing. But..."

She frowns, and Shownu catches the barest hint of the question as it crosses her mind.

"Are witches not able to choose their magic? You kept saying the witch is chosen..."

"No, " he replies, "witches are not able to choose their magic, just like familiars don't get to choose their witch. I don't really know the details on why certain magicks choose particular witches. Just that they do."

Luna takes a bite of her cereal, milk dripping carelessly from her spoon as she does. She watches as the cat before her eyes the liquid, pink tongue darting out to lick at his chops.

"He's probably hungry, " she thinks.

And then realises that she hadn't offered him anything to eat.

"I'm so sorry, " she tells him. "I really didn't mean to be cruel."

But Shownu is too busy digging into the can of tuna she's upended onto a plate for his benefit. Nearby, is an already depleted saucer of milk.

He's never had either of these things before. As a spirit from the fae realm, it isn't as if he particularly needs to eat, but he must admit that he finds he rather enjoys it.

And he knows that she hadn't meant anything by it, after all, he can read her heart. There isn't a speck of cruelty in there. It's something that he finds himself undeniably proud of.

His witch is extremely kind of heart.

Of course, he'd tell her not to worry about it, but this... Tuna, as she calls it, is just so damn delicious.

"I guess you really like milk and tuna, just like any other cat." Luna chuckles.

She reaches forth, and runs gentle fingers through his silky black fur. Shownu has half a mind to tell her that he is certainly no ordinary cat. But when her digits find that one spot, just behind his ears, he loses the train of thought entirely.

A soft hum, a purr, sounds from within his throat. He finds that he rather likes the way she coos, clearly enjoying the sound, even if it is just a little embarrassing on his behalf.

It just feels too damn good!

After finishing the last of the delicious meal, he sits back, and begins grooming himself. He has bits and pieces of food all about his muzzle, and he diligently uses both paws and tongue to clear it away.

"Let me make one thing clear, " he states, voice lacking in any real irritation. "I am not a common cat. I am not a pet. I know that you didn't mean to neglect my 'needs', but truthfully, I don't have any."

Luna gives him this doubtful sort of look, and shakes her head.

"Are you sure? 'Cause you really went to town on that tuna."

"It was tasty, " he defends, "that's all."

She hums, and then a sudden thought strikes her.

"But, you know, too much milk and tuna are actually really bad for cats. Do you think that'll apply to you too? And what about your, um... bowel movements? Do I need to buy a litter box?"

Shownu cocks his head to the side, not fully understanding that last line of questioning.

"What's a litter box?"

"That's absolutely disgusting!"

Luna shifts awkwardly, side to side as she tries her best not to laugh. Really, she shouldn't find the fact that he's so clearly offended so funny, but somehow, she does.

To be fair, this whole situation is just so absurd, that this is just the proverbial cherry on top.

"Don't you dare laugh, " he growls, "I mean it! That's disgusting! What do you take me for? Why would I have any desire whatsoever to force someone else to deal with such a thing?"

But Luna can't help it. His command not to laugh just makes it all the harder to maintain a straight, dignified face.

Raucous, full-bellied laughter begins to pour from her lips, and she bends over with the force of it. Shownu simply looks at her, dumbfounded and put off. He's indignant.

Are mortal cats truly such disgusting creatures?

"I'll have you know that I'm a spirit, " he seethes, "and I believe I already told you this, but we don't have needs. We don't do... Whatever that is."

Luna wipes at the hysterical tears leaking from her laughter-crinkled eyes. He's really not making it any easier for her.

"Are you sure?"

The raven familiar soars through the sky, eyes trained upon the ground below him.

"I'm sure, " he tells his witch. "They were definitely here."

Swooping down, he lands deftly upon a thin branch directly above the charred and blackened remains of what seems to have been a huge bonfire. Beady eyes, black as midnight soil, scan his surroundings. The damage done to the earth here is devastating.

"I can sense the corruption in the air, " he continues, "and the ground here is blackened, tainted with death."

From the safety of her abode, miles away from where her familiar rests, Lilith curses vehemently. It seems that her vision wasn't set as far into the future as she'd hoped.

Concentrating, she takes a deep breath. Then, she draws her hands slowly through the air in a reverent, ritual circle, and links her thumbs together across her chest. Fingers splayed to either side, she speaks.

"Praebueris oculis vestris!"

Her otherworldly blue eyes become milky-white, and then roll into the back of her head as the spell takes effect. Now, instead of the cream-colored walls of her apartment, she's staring at the forest through her familiar's eyes.

"You're right, " she sighs, "they were definitely there."

She takes in the earth's sickly pallor. What vegetation remains upon the ground is twisted, and gnarled. Ruined beyond all hope. It would take a white witch of considerable power to purify the miasma that lingers. And even then, there's no telling if this section of the forest would ever truly recover.

Of course, this is nothing surprising given just what it was that caused this in the first place. And in this case, the cause is so much worse than the effect. A tainted section of forest is nothing compared to the bigger picture.

The destruction of the entire world.

"Bring me back a bit of the earth, " she commands, wordlessly releasing her hold on the spell. "A bit of dirt, a stone, or even a twig from the ground itself will do the trick."

The four walls of her cozy abode fill her vision once more, and she adjusts to it easily. By now, she's so used to her sight that it hardly even gives her a headache anymore. Granted, being a witch with a decade or so of practice likely has a lot to do with it.

"Not that I'm refusing or anything, but why would you want to bring such taint into our sanctuary?" He questions. "Won't we risk corruption?"

"It's possible, " she admits. "But I need it for scrying. If I can forge a connection to the events that took place there, I might be able to divine the next location before they perform the ritual."

Kihyun scoffs.

"And what good will that do? It's not like we can stop them."

"Honestly, " Lilith confesses candidly, "I don't know. But I can't just sit here and do nothing."

But, if she's being honest with herself, Kihyun is right.

What the hell is she going to do?