Something had disturbed the birds, a flock of orange and blue ducks. Obderedria wasn't worried about them as they flew around her. The more important thing was to escape the smell.

Smells. Of all the senses to be fired off in a dream.

The city wasn't London. Too many tall buildings and skyscrapers. Steam venting noodle shops and corner groceries at street level, along the sunset tinged river. A city unfamiliar yet familiar, if in a major need of street cleaning. Oozy remains of gluck piled up next to street corners. Sometimes purple, sometimes cheesy yellow. Like the proton beam irradiated supernatural marshmallow fluff from that one movie.

A comforting smell to draw away from the creepy aspects of the shady side of this town.

At this point, it was around the time Obderedria passed the hall to the Kitchens as she came from the direction of the Hufflepuff Cellar.

The orange kissed river invitingly drew out away, towards rolling green hills. Truly rolling hills that turned over like wheels yet never went anywhere. A path, then, during that point of a dream where it all seems familiar and you remember how to fly.

Or really, walk along a castle basement. An aimless wandering mapping the space of searching for something in a dream.

Quiet night. Calm night. All as Nagendra preferred.

The huge snake slipped through the damp lower levels of his castle home, the familiar paths he'd trod so often since his move into the Secret Chamber beneath the walls. Such freedom was now a rare treat, as he had long hidden in the woods and pipes to avoid bringing trouble on himself and Mama. But tonight, the Great Cat Who Spoke Like Men prowled the outside grounds, on watch for Dark Nasties at the edge of their world. It left the lower halls and tunnel-pipes open for safe passage, which Nagendra intended to enjoy while it lasted, especially as he tasted none of the student sentries who occasionally stood guard in the night.

However, he did taste something, or rather, someone. As he slunk through the warm halls and enjoyed the feel of smooth stone against his scales, Nagendra flicked his forked tongue and found the so-sweet flavor of a young one nearby. He should keep his distance and remain safely tucked in hidden halls. But he didn't. He knew this child.

He’d met her months ago: the Fae-Touched One, the human haunted by Wicked Soul, shadow-beast of the Old World. If Nagendra had been born with a clattering tail, it would have rustled with fury at the very thought of that creature. And oh, he tasted its foul presence on this girl, its flavor bound to hers as though strangling a meal. An intruder. A victim. A threat to his home.

She was nearly upon him now. He lay at a point where two halls met, and she'd nearly broached the path. Lurking at the intersection corner, Nagendra curled his long body around itself for defense. Keeping his head low, he hissed; long, threatening, and cold.

"Beassssssssssst."