The last few days had taken it's toll on Naomi. From Jamaica, to her birthday, to dancing at Hogsmeade, and then socializing and messing with the other schools--it was just one of those days where she would love to sleep most of the day away and be a complete and total sea slug. But of course, those were the days where she was usually given chores, and that day was no different.

It started when her father dragged her out of bed, which resulted in Naomi fighting back in a half-dreamy daze until she woke up, which is when her father finally decided to pin her and tell her to get dressed and to go talk to her mother, which is also right around the time when Naomi realized it was about 5am in the morning. Sadly, this was something that happened a lot that Naomi never grew completely accustomed too; her parents always managed to make it especially surprising each and every time. And disobeying wasn't something that crossed her mind with that anymore, because if she didn't obey? Well, she would be doing whatever it was her mother wanted in an over-sized Falmout Falcons t-shirt and rabid rabbit slippers.

So Naomi did as she was told; she pulled some leggings on, strapped her shins and feet in dragon-hide leather padding, buckled her legs and waist in holsters and a utility belt, threw on a denim dress and gloves, and pulled her hair back with a clip. She then went in her closet, crawling behind a panel so she could grab a few knives, her wand, a short staff, and a bamboo dart gun with some poisons before leaving her room to go see her mother for her "chore."

The chill of sleep still rang through Naomi's scrawny frame as she stood and listened to her mother, who was cutting up fish while explaining some divining she had done the previous night, resulting in her discovering a problem with one of the animals out back in the "gardens." The curly-haired witch preferred to call it their backyard jungle.

"You got some help today too," her mother rubbed Naomi's hand into hers, then removed a slither of a pin from her pocket before pricking Naomi's palm. A drop of blood surfaced, and then splattered across her hand like a piece of indigo bubblegum, before sinking back down into her skin like the sting of jellyfish trendrils, making her hand painfully twitch at the sensation, "So be quick, and no slacking Naomi." Her mother's look was narrow, and warning, as if the child needed that look.

Naomi yanked her hand back once her mother finished, and gave a dismissive nod, "Yeah, yeah--what you stuck me for right?" Getting pricked from her mother like that always meant she was going to learn something about resilience and getting things done in a rather difficult way, no matter what good or bad decisions she made that day.

And so she traveled outside, the morning dew sinking between her toes as she passed the and fluttering plants as they seemed to wake up with her. But once she finally disappeared into the thick of trees and roots of their backyard, Naomi gave a short chuckle when she saw who her "help" was. 

"Eamon got you tossed in our jumanji too, eh?" she happily cooed to Gracie in the misty morning air, "Didn't tell you what for either I bet--bring anyt'ing good?"

As they started to move through the thick of their backyard, Naomi started to explain the situation, "One of Adric's leopards got trapped in one of 'dem Devil Snare pits, an' won't come out."  Then she let her shoulders drop as she admitted, "Mi mom's Devil Snare." Between the two girls, that meant anything from anywhere between poisoned barbed to the stink of a Snaplark.

Naomi started to keep her pathway on living tree branches, curved close to the ground, making her steps much quieter, "Anyway, she was making some callalloo and codfish wit' bammies 'fore I left. If we fast, you can come have breakfast afterwards."