28 September
After dark

The trio of Durmstrang students stood before the pen, which, to Magdalena’s eyes, was empty. She clutched the box she had won in the tournament, and which she had obsessed over for two days straight. Its very locked exterior pressed gently but securely into the Oberteil-hued, military style jacket she wore over her uniform. The light of their wands cast a strong glow over the bed of packed earth, patchy grass, and modicum of fallen leaves that comprised the floor of the pen. She had made Tyr carry a bucket of bait.

Magda turned her head to where Aliya stood. Aliya and Tyr were among the few with whom she’d extensively shared the box. Magda’s light gaze had the shine it usually did when they were preparing for something particularly important (or vaguely questionable).

“Tyr, go.” She ordered, encouraging him (assertively) to cross the threshold into the pen. Lamps were not the only thing they had brought. Between the three of them, they had plenty of bait. Her eyes locked onto the thestrals-- or where she assumed the thestrals were herded-- just beyond Tyr.

Magdalena could not, much to her annoyance, see thestrals.

Wand held before her to light her way, she followed him into the pen. She stopped several paces in, and held the box out before her, palms wrapped about either side. Her thumb grazed the outline of the decorative thestral that formed its lock, and her eyes flickered momentarily to said lock before returning to the seemingly empty air before them.

“What are they doing?” She asked. Her grip on the box was steadfast, as if the password, the charm, the riddle-- whatever it was it took-- were being uttered in some inaudible language. She glanced down and back up again, a dance of dark lashes.

Tyr followed Magda as his usual respectful distance, lantern in hand. The box had proven an enigma; and so, a few days after the event, it had seemed natural to assume the Thestral depicted on its exterior was not a metaphor.

Tyr didn't mind this task, largely due to the animal involved. Thestrals were not everyone's cup of tea, but he found them pleasant enough. They were effectively just horses that preferred meat to plants, and so they were easy enough to handle. Extremely uncomfortable to ride without a decent cushion charm, of course. And rather...distressing to look upon. It was a good thing Magdelana couldn't see them, he assumed.

He set the lamp by the pen's gate so that the two girls had ample light, and stepped obediently into the dark pen when Magda said to. The Thestrals headed over to him, bait or no, and as one approached he raised a hand, extending it for the animal to sniff.

A few of them regarded Magda with interest as well, sniffing at her jacket and skirt. Tyr answered her question in his usual polite monotone.

"They seem to be curious, Miss Eisenberg," he said, as the lead Thestral butted his hand. He stroked its nose, which seemed be what it was after. "They're just sniffing around. Two are inspecting your skirt," he added, as their noses moved the fabric.

Aliya stood quietly next to Magda and Tyr, though decidely closer to her fellow Oberteil, as she was a product of her upbringing and rarely associated with those of the Dregs rank. But Tyr was an exception for many of the top ranking Durmstrang students, because he was instrumental in some of their machinations. Aliya also vaguely knew that Tyr's family was tied to her own in some way, even if her relatives remain closed-lipped about the specifics. But her cousin, Melanthe in particular, made a point to stress that Aliya should treat him well so that he would take care of her if need be. At the time, it had been a cryptic creed, as Aliya had thought she was perfectly capable of caring for herself. But Melanthe was to be trusted above all things, her father had said. And what she dictated was the way it should be for the betterment of their family.

Thoughts full of her cousin, Aliya briefly considered that if Melanthe were here, she would be able to see the Thestrals. Though the details were unknown to Aliya, she knew thst Melanthe had seen death. Perhaps Tyr had too, which was why Magda insisted he attend to the pen.

That realization saddened Aliya, her heart clenching with sympathy and maybe even pity for the boy.

With a pathetic sigh, Aliya held her wand tighter and pointed it to the pen where she could only guess the thestrals were. She watched with interest as Magda moved forward with the box.

When Tyr explained that the beasts were close to her friend, Aliya reached out to grasp Magda's arm. "Do they bite?" She asked curiously.