One might think that, as a diviner, Elijah would be used to uncertainties in his life, and that was true – in every aspect that wasn’t Evelyn. He knew everything about his sister: what each of her smiles meant, the sound her quill made when signing her name, he even knew the fairies that she bred, as they looked so much different from other fairies. One didn’t spend their entire existence with someone and not pick up on their every foible. The fact that she was so willing to give up her bag was a major case of red sparks in Elijah’s mind, a note to her seriousness, and though Eli would give anything in this world to keep his sister happy, he simply couldn’t budge when it came to her safety.

By the time Evelyn had stripped herself of her bag, Elijah started shaking his head most emphatically. “No, I’m not taking your bag! What if you’re wrong? What if something does happen? At least if you have your bag, you’ll be better off than if I have it. Plus, I’ll never find a blanket in all that. You find the blanket and keep the bag,” His hands pushed her bag back toward her. His voice had come out in a strained whisper, but not loud enough to spook the kneazle more than it already was. Eli was happy that his sister was so excited, was happy that they’d figured out the mess with the shadow; but that didn’t mean he was ready to give in completely. There was no way to be one hundred percent sure, and so Eli wasn’t satisfied.

Elijah let out a dramatic sigh as he got to his feet. He’d have no choice but to give in to Evie – at least she was agreed that it was time to head back to the castle. “Okay, so I’ll go first, but you have to stay close! If you stop unexpectedly, I swear I’ll chain our arms together with a permanent sticking charm,” Eli was serious. Elijah wouldn’t pretend that he knew what kind of bond was passing between his sister and the mangy cat, so he’d just have to deal with Evie knowing more than he did. That didn’t mean that Elijah was okay with it, nor that he would give in completely.

Truthfully, Elijah was a bit upset. His sister had spent all day trying to avoid him, and now she was spending all her time trying to woo an animal rather than coming back to the warm dorms where they belonged. He folded his arms in front of his chest, waiting on his sister’s response and hoping she didn’t insist on him taking her bag again.

Both Elijah and Evelyn had come from the same place, and had shared every experience there was to share in their years on this earth. The way they let those experiences transform them, however, and the way that they thought and acted as a result of those transformations, were vastly different. They'd always responded to the nuances of everyday life in ways that contrasted so starkly that it could be difficult to believe that the twins had grown up hand in hand. Their differences were evident from the time they were just children, back when nobody was invested enough in them to notice. Elijah shouted, but Evie kept quiet. Elijah clung to the truths he was told with unbridled enthusiasm, but Evie was quick to deny and trusted her own research above all else. Elijah wanted to take care of Evie, but Evie wanted to take care of Evie, too. There were some things they'd simply never be in agreement on. As a general rule, Evelyn knew and appreciated their differences. Eli was the yin to her yang, and she knew that their differing natures did not necessarily speak to a lack of harmony. She accepted it – but she still thought he was out of his mind when he refused to walk ten feet ahead of her with her knapsack when asked. Having a brother was a gift, but today Elijah was not her favorite person.

She glared at him. She was doing a lot of that today, but it was Eli's own fault. Quietly and very pointedly Evie made a show of kneeling down to the ground and opening her bag up, only to reach her hands in and, moments later, pull the nicely folded blanket out of the very bottom. She thrust the bundle toward him, a firmly expectant look on her face, her lips and brow set. “I need you to take it,” she hissed, “There isn't anything dangerous about handing me a blanket. All I need you to do is hand it to me,” she insisted softly, trying not to lose her cool or raise her voice. She really wasn't a screamer but, like the cat, she was likely to turn bitter and go stalking deeper into the woods if he acted any more obstinate, just to spite him. She was glad he'd agreed to let her try her plan, at least. Honestly – she could imagine him fussing if she'd asked him to do something mad like set her on fire, but why was leaving the forest, the very thing he'd been begging her to do all along, such a chore all of the sudden?

Grudgingly, she threw her knapsack back over her shoulders. “Walk far enough ahead so that you are out of the kneazle's line of sight,” she instructed, gesturing for him to walk. She stayed behind, locking eyes with the animal again, making sure it was watching as Elijah took his leave. She waited only a few seconds before she followed him, trusting that the cat was behind her. She had to trust, because she was certain that, if she were to look behind her, the cat would catch her eye and flee. She felt like Orpheus, leading Eurydice out of the underworld, forced to trust that she'd be there when he arrived. Orpheus had failed, and Evie had learned from his mistake. She kept her eyes ahead of her at all times. Elijah could make direct eye contact with her anytime he liked, which allowed her to give him a look which would be his cue to hand the blanket off to her. When the time came, however, the window of opportunity was brief, so he didn't have to hand it to her so much as stand there while she grabbed it.

For such a gentle, oddly graceful creature, the speed and vigor which she displayed upon ambushing that kneazle with the blanket was impressive. Elijah had seen  her move like that before, but from the cat's perspective - they were known to scrap a bit on their beds back home. The creature struggled as she trapped it in the blanket and wrapped it up tight, grabbing it at the scruff in the hope that it might become submissive, as cats were wont to do.  It fought, but Evie didn't let up, fighting back and making what she hoped were calming noises. The animal had made it clear that it didn't mind Evie, but that didn't mean that it was keen to be snatched up and carried in her arms. She dropped to her knees as she struggled with it, swaddling it like an ornery, sharp-toothed child.

The kneazle calmed eventually, if only marginally, and Evie sat, hugging it against her and refusing to make any sudden movements. It wasn't acting entirely feral - it had clearly once been someone's pet. She tried scratching it below its neck, which the creature seemed to like, even if it wasn't completely convinced that this situation was ideal. Evie probably wouldn't be able to try this trick again with success, so she committed to doing this right. In her mind this was not cruelty. This was like restraining a toddler while they threw a fit. It might take some time before the cat was truly calm, she knew, but it would be worth it. She just hoped Elijah was patient enough to continue aiding her in this risky rehabilitation.