"Yes, the sound." Arc chuckled, mostly at himself, at realising that he hadn't spotted the problem of people mistaking Rustle for 'Russel'. "Well, it's your choice. I would have walked him today, but I already did yesterday and today he just wants to sunbathe on the windowsill. Pity, since it's good weather."

He laughed at her statement, waving his hands a little. "It's entirely your choice, I'm just letting you know the options! I'm not that deserving of credit as much as you make it sound. But it seems like you could do with a furry friend who'd love you no matter what. You don't have kneazles or crups in the States? Surely you must've known about these animals before, though maybe not the details of owning one."

Elliot's crooked smile remained on her face, and it felt good. His reaction to her gratitude left her chuckling again, sweeping away more of the bad thoughts away.

"I'm not that deserving of credit as much as you make it sound."

"No?" she questioned, her expression lightening a little more though still grateful in overall appearance. A moment later she looked off to the side. "You'd be surprised how much this is helping me. I've been needing it."

"But it seems like you could do with a furry friend who'd love you no matter what."

She looked thoughtful again at his words, keeping her gaze averted. Yes, he was right. A pet would be her best option for now. She could allow herself to love a kneazle, or some other small creature. She'd, at least, have the assurance that her affection for it would not be wasted, thrown aside as if it were rubbish. Her progression of thought made that light feeling from her amusement and Arcturus fade away steadily like a dimming light before it went out entirely. She suddenly felt like she was a wilting plant, and her expression showed it too.

"Hm? Oh, yes, there are crups and kneazles and puffkins, and all sorts of small creatures for pets in the U.S. My family never owned one, though. Mom and dad were always busy raising me. And then they had Meta... If they have taken on a pet ever since then, they haven't said." Elliot suddenly went quiet, looking down as if there were something in the grass that was the most interesting thing she'd seen.

"Meta...who?" Then Arc caught up with the rest, namely Elliot's sudden decline into the mood he'd met her in. "S-Sorry, did I say something wrong? I meant it honestly." Had he triggered something in her? Reminded her of something? There were certainly no malicious intentions considering how little he knew about her, and definitely he was not to blame since he didn't know, but...but he felt like it was his fault all the same.

"Look, I, um, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," he began, his words tripping and falling over each other. He inched off to the side, extending the distance between them in case she needed space. "If you want me to leave I will, I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me to Magical Menagerie so you could, you know, have a headstart, but I guess this isn't the time." The healer got to his feet a little hastily. "I'm really sorry, I-I was just trying to..." His voice faltered, overly aware and afraid that he might just be making the situation worse.

"I'm really sorry, I-I was just trying to..."

She noticed Arcturus's movement and looked to catch sight of him rising from where he was sitting next to her. He looked a little awkward about what he was doing. Her expression shifted again, this time looking at him in concern. There was also a bit of surprise on her face due to his trying to excuse himself suddenly.

"What? No! You don't--" Her hand reached out for him, but she stopped when she realized what she was grabbing for: his own hand. She left her hand hanging in the air instead, giving the stopping gesture. "I'm sorry," she finally said, looking at him apologetically. "I've had a rough couple of days and I'm still working past that."

Even with the lingering effects that the dementor had caused on her mentally and emotionally she still appreciated his company and what he had done for her in the past few minutes. In fact, he was really the only company that had helped since the attack. That alone made her all the more grateful to him.

"I--" She sighed, looking down for a moment to recollect herself as well as the words she wanted to say, then looked back up at him. "I'd like if you stayed. I...appreciate your company." Somehow that was awkward for her to say and Elliot looked off to the side, feeling a little embarrassed at what she had said.

"You said something earlier?" she continued, forcing herself to move past that moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch it. I was...lost in thought." And not the good kind either. She needed to try harder to keep those away.

Arc stared at her while trying to make it obvious he wasn't staring at her, which was a feat in and of itself and something he wouldn't recommend to anyone else. He wasn't sure if he should stay or not. He didn't like messing up conversations further than establishing the starting damage, if according to him what he'd done was damage. Which was often, as much as he didn't like to admit.

"I'd like if you stayed. I...appreciate your company." That was a little more reassuring, but caution dictated his motions in sitting back down on the bench. Arc still kept some distance from her, just in case he needed to bolt and let her have her space. "Okay, if you say so."
 
Her words reminded him quickly enough. "You said a name. Meta? Something like that?" The memory was fast fading. "Is that an actual name of a person? Or something else? I'm sorry if that's not...if that's sensitive to you, you don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable doing so." He was only too aware of names being sensitive material, possibly.

Elliot was visibly relieved when he sat back down. Had he truly walked off she was sure it would have made her feel even worse. She couldn't bear being alone, not when being alone now meant feeling defenseless and scared. Being with someone helped her feel safe, even if just an acquaintance sitting next to her on a park bench.

"You said a name. Meta? Something like that?"

The memory of Meta brought a small smile to her face, making her feel better again. She would try harder to keep those happy thoughts closer and not allow herself to follow the sadder, darker, thoughts that would surely try to emerge again. "Meta Hazel Blair. My sister. She recently graduated from Salem, and is at Laevenstrome now." The smile grew on her face in a sense of family pride in the success of her sister.

"Mom and dad focused a lot on taking care of us that we never had a pet in the house." She turned her head to look at Arcturus, looking a little sheepish. "So, I don't really know what would be necessary to take care of one. Any insight or opinions you have well be helpful, and appreciated."

The thought of a kneazle for a possible companion in her flat did make her feel better. She wouldn't feel as alone as before. She held onto that thought and kept it close, keeping the feelings of hope and comfort just as close. The trick would be holding onto it long enough to not let some other idea slip through.

"Huh." Strange name. But then again things could be different across the pond, and who was he to be a pedant over that anyway? Wizard names in Britain tended to have the same reaction from foreigners. The frumpy old healer Gawmdrey came to mind.

That was not the time for that, though. Arcturus focused on kneazles. He was much better at that, and not one to turn down a request for help. "Well, kneazles are highly independent. They know what they want, and in order for you to get what you want out of them they'll make you work for it. Cats, basically. But not all of them can be like that; some are incredibly loving the moment you take ownership. Others take a while to warm up to you. Like people, really, except that if you do something wrong they don't get judgemental."

Arcturus paused. "All right, maybe a little judgemental. But not as much as people get to be, and even if they are they don't necessarily express that in any language we understand." He flashed her a quick, amused smile. Talking about kneazles made him feel much more comfortable, it was a specialist topic for him. "So you need quite a bit of patience to train them up by rewardning good behaviour. The usual care for them involves food,water, a scratching post unless you want your kneazle to shred your furniture, and litter. I can recommend several brands for all of them, except for water, obviously--" He caught himself. That sounded incredibly boring even as he had said it. "--okay, maybe later, the kneazle comes first."

The healer mused. "Anything specific?" he asked abruptly, perking up a little. "Apart from all the obvious stuff that I...just told you about, you know."

Elliot couldn't help but be amused at his enthusiasm on the subject of kneazles. Her smile spread wider and she even chuckled. Seeing his own smiles helped her to keep feeling better, as if the expressions were rays of sunlight slipping through the darkness and leaving warmth and comfort in their wake. The feeling of her own smile and sound of amusement added to it, and she enjoyed the feeling within herself thanks to it.

Through it all Elliot remained attentive to Arcturus's words. She took mental notes as he spoke, keeping special attention to what he had to say about the behaviors and personalities of them. That would certainly have to be something she'd need to keep in mind when she might finally get to choosing one. Or perhaps it would be better to let the creature choose her? That was something else to think about.

"Well," she started, "what would you suggest when it comes to choosing a kneazle? Should I get a kitten, or a full grown one? Or should I let it choose me? I was just thinking about it, actually." She was starting to relax a little, sitting back in the bench and taking a moment to look out towards the water and actually feel a little bit more at peace since the attack. When she looked back to Arcturus a thought came to her. "By the way, how long have you had your kneazle? Rustle, right?"

"Do you have a lot of free time?" Arcturus smiled wryly at her. "Taking care of a kneazle kitten is like taking care of a baby. They're hyperactive when they're awake, and when they're not hyperactive they're asleep to the world. You have to play with them, get used to them clawing all over you and get angry about them trying everything out - but when you get them to sleep they're the most adorable balls of fluff in the world."

He shrugged. "But when you have a kitten, you have a small window to teach them what to do and what not to do. And they're adorable. I'm saying this as someone who had Rustle since he was a kitten, so I know what I'm talking about.

"On the other hand, if you get an adult, some habits die hard - but they are less energetic and a bit more manageable. Most breeders will make sure they don't reproduce, since stray kneazles would be an utter menace to Muggles and wizards alike. They'll already be checked for health and all that...really, it depends on what you think you're capable of handling." He leaned his elbow against the arm of the bench casually, almost in an absent-minded lounge. "You can always talk to breeders and see what they recommend you. I'm no breeder, I just live with a kneazle."

He realised he was staring off into the distance and brought his gaze back around to her just in time to catch her next question. "I've lived with Rustle for thirteen years. Why do you ask? He's a healthy adult at his age, it'll take him another," Arc did quick math in his head, "nine years to become an old kneazle. At best."

"I ask because I couldn't remember how long kneazles tend to live," Elliot replied. "From what you said though, they seem to enjoy long lives along with us. They make for long time friends, don't they?"

She began to think over places where she could find a kneazle. There was also the possibility of locating a breeder. The more she thought about this the more plans she had as to what kind of feline friend she wanted. She wasn't sure if she was up to dealing with a pure bred kneazle due to aggression and intelligence, as Arcturus had stated. She looked thoughtful, her eyes focusing on nothing in particular on the horizon.

"I do have free time," she said, "but my lifestyle is a very stable and quiet one. So, I'm thinking it might be better for me to get an older kneazle. A few years older, at least. I guess the rest will depend on which one out there will take to me, and vice versa."

When Elliot turned her head to focus on him again she found that he turned his head at the same time, and she stopped for just an instant when she made eye contact with him. "So, um," she started, drawing her eyes away just as quickly, "I appreciate your willing to talk about this. Kneazles, I mean." She rubbed her hands, not to keep them warm, but simply because she was feeling awkward. "Thank you. You've helped a lot." And he had helped, in all honesty. Their simply talking about magical cats helped to keep her from sliding back down that dark path she had stepped onto only a few minutes before. Now if only she had someone else to stick with her and keep her distracted...but that may be asking too much.

Arcturus gave her a thumbs up. "Older kneazle, good. That's a start. I hope that's enough of one for you to start on your journey to owning and being owned by a kneazle." He smiled. "I hope you find the right one for you. It's not a complete replacement to human contact," oh how he knew that too well, "but it can do its part."

He listened to her, his gaze drifting to the ground but focused on her words rather than anything else. "You're welcome," he said. "Glad to have helped in some way. I could give you some names to start looking, especially respected breeders, but I don't have those with me right now and any name off the top of my head's probably going to be incorrect. Maybe I'll drop by Flourish and Blotts tomorrow with the list, that okay with you?" The healer considered his schedule. "If I'm busy, I'll owl you instead, as long as you give me an address because I just don't feel comfortable with writing 'Elliot Blair, Somewhere in London' on the envelope."

Was that it? Arcturus was always willing to help someone find a furry companion for life. "If you have other questions, let me know," he added. "I'll try answering them the best I can. All up to you."

Elliot smiled, chuckling at his comment of 'Elliot Blair, Somewhere in London.' These small amusements continued to lift her spirit and dissolve, little by little, the after effects of the dementor, like morning mist as the sun emerged. "I'd like that," she said. "I think I have a spare piece of paper somewhere. I'll write down my address, just in case you can't make it to the shop."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small, leather bound notebook as well as quill. It happened to be her favorite kind of quill that was enchanted to always be ready with ink to write with, thus removing her need to carry around an inkwell at the same time. Most muggles assumed it was just a fancy pen made to look like a quill. Some of the slightly odder types had even asked where she'd gotten hers. She opened the notebook to a blank page, wrote down her address, then tore out the page and handed it to Arcturus.

"There. I do look forward to hearing from you again, one way or the other." Elliot's crooked smile faded a little bit as her eyes looked off to the side. "It may sound strange, but this has been the best thing to happen to me all week." Then Elliot looked back at the wizard, looking him straight in the eye and felt her lips curve back up into her usual smile. Through the lingering doubts and troubles that still slithered in-between every other thought Elliot felt almost peaceful for once.

"I suppose I should let you go, then." Her hand shifted, beginning to rise so that she could touch his arm, but then stopped herself again. She thought maybe that would be a bit odd; he was still only something of an acquaintance to her. "Thank you again Arcturus." She paused, blinking, then turned her head away again. "I've been thanking you a lot. It's oddly embarrassing, now that I think about it. I just don't know what else to say, other than that."

He took the torn piece of paper, feeling the texture crinkle slightly between his fingers. "I'll keep it safe," he promised, folding it into half neatly and tucking it gently into a coat pocket. "You're welcome. I'm glad to have" Made her week? "given your week a little life." That sounded odd, coming from him, but he couldn't figure out any other way to word what he felt and he wasn't going to make her wait.

"Let me go, huh?" The healer smiled. "You're not keeping me from anything--" He paused to listen to what she had to say, mouth slightly open in surprise. Then he waved a hand. "It's all right." He would have said something about it being his job to help and being thanked was almost daily, but he stopped himself. As Johann would have told him, sometimes he just had to accept it because he did help in some way. Who was he to decide how much he had contributed to someone's life, and what worth that was? As far as he understood, that was not up to him.

He settled for, "I'm glad to help. It's not a problem. I guess you can say I'm well-versed with kneazles, maybe a little too well. But anything goes, hm?" Arc held out his hand to her, the other tucked in his coat pocket, fingertips brushing the folded piece of paper. "I hope you have a good week, Blair. It was a pleasure."

To what? Meet her? You always could've said hi to her in Fl-- Something similar to a large book slamming down on some unfortunate six-legged skittering creature stamped that thought out. For once, Arc figured that he could be happy about making a difference in someone's week.

Elliot looked back at him, smiling, yet her expression a little sad. She didn't want this conversation to end, but she couldn't keep him the whole day out in the cold on this bench. That would've been selfish of her. Besides, he had his own things to do and talking to her all way certainly couldn't have been one of those things. So, she settled for taking his hand in a gentle grasp and giving an equally gentle shake.

"I hope you have a good week, Blair. It was a pleasure."

"I hope so too," she said, a little softer than she had intended to say.

Worry crept into her mind again as she gathered up her things and set the strap of her bag over her shoulder before rising to her feet. She'd be on edge again once on her own, but she would have to deal with it. She didn't want her problems to become an additional burden on those around her. The effects of the dementor were hers to deal with, as hard as it was to do so.

When Elliot stood she looked down at Arcturus in gratitude, trying her hardest to keep her smile going. And, this time, she dared an additional gesture of physical contact and touched his shoulder. "Thank you again, Arcturus." She pulled her hand away, bringing it up to give a small wave. "Have a good one."

As Elliot walked away she gripped at the strap of her bag with both hands, biting her lip, as her eyes remained looking down hoping she'd avoid seeing anything that would startle her again.

End