The sun hadn't quite started to peek it's face up over the horizon, however the sky was slowly beginning to brighten with the promise of it. Everything was silent in the time of transition. Night creatures were going to sleep and those of the day were just beginning to wake. Moira was still moving however.

As a wolf in the lands of Scotland she had to take extra caution to not be seen, she couldn't simply run wherever she wished. As to the reason she was traveling in such a state there wasn't one other than she felt like it. This was the third sunrise since she had begun her journey with no destination in mind. There was no time limit and nothing to do other than just be. Moira could see very easily how an animagus could get lost or forget the world in such a state.

The young woman (wolf) was on a ridge, sticking to the trees when she heard a noise and froze in her tracks. Listening she picked up the sound of running footsteps and cautiously scented the air though it wasn't but a few moments after that she saw the creator. He was a wolf... and a very large one. Possibly another animagus?
 
As she readied herself to flee if necessary she wondered in the back of her mind if her senses had gotten sharper in the past few days or if she had simply become accustomed to them on a different level than before.

He was running, as he sometimes did in the mornings before work. One of the many benefits of coming to live on the estate was that Balfour could happily utilise his animagus form without worry of being caught out by anyone - he was unregistered after all. It was always good to have the one secret in reserve, though he hardly knew what use it could be of in the future. For now it was a simple pleasure and he looked forward to returning to the manor, to nuzzle and rouse Johann from sleep.

His paws were heavy and sure against the lichen that had begun to grow verdant across the land; down the sides of rolling hills, on the rocky footing of the forest, the steep slopes that rose to ridges peopled by towering trees. It looked to be a clear sky today but a light morning mist was creeping across the estate and leaving droplets in his russet fur.

By the time Balfour found himself slowing down at the peak of a ridge, his legs were sullied by smears of moss and mud; his tail peppered by twigs and the feathers of startled morning birds.

He had heard and then smelled the other wolf long before seeing her: very young, he knew as soon as she came into his line of sight in the space between a cluster of trees, lower ground. But also an animagus. This Balfour knew from experience because real wolves carried different scents - and also because he was already familiar with the smells of those that roamed the estate.

Being so young, she was unlikely to be threat. Bal leapt forward and changed as he did - a monstrously large wolf in one moment, and a tall wizard in jogging clothes the next. He landed on his feet with wand already drawn. "Good morning!" he called out, now a bit closer to the other wolf. "You're on private property, you know."

There was no sting to this, a mild reprimand to draw out the uninvited guest.

As the wolf sprang forward Moira took an involuntary step backward, though it was soon evident that an attack was not the intent. Her guess at him being another animagus was correct. He was Balfour. Bloody hell but she supposed there were worse people whose estates she could have trespassed upon. She wasn't sure if she'd have rather faced teeth or the wand he had pointed at her.

Changing back to human after being a wolf was never her strong suit though her ability had improved. In fact, the first time she had changed Moira had been stuck as a wolf for an entire day before she managed to sort it out. Having been a wolf for three days this time it took her a few moments longer than normal to change once more.

“Good morning.” Everything sounded... muted and dull now and colors were blending in unusual ways. Her senses had been confused before after being a wolf for a time so it wasn't anything alarming to the witch. “Lovely, isn't it?”

Moira highly doubted she looked like he did, someone just out for a morning run. She wasn't sure how much of the mud, dirt and other things that had been on her white coat had transferred to her clothes and skin, however grime wasn't at the top of her list of concerns.

It was the wee McBoid! Balfour laughed as the transformation took place, recognising the young witch of their distant neighbours, and quickly realising that she'd no doubt been in her form for quite a long time. She resembled a fae child, gone trampling in the mud and heather. He waited for her to adjust; she was young yet and he remembered the disorientation in his own days starting out.

          “Good morning. Lovely, isn't it?”

The Scotsman lowered his wand, raising his eyebrows. "It should be, it's Spectre land." He couldn't keep the pride out of his voice - but she would understand, the conceit many a clan felt for their home territories, "There's not been a foul morning yet." Bal glanced past Moira at the hills beyond and the mist coming into full bloom with the rising sun.

"Didn't know you were an animagus. Where are you travelling to?" he wondered if she'd long been on the outskirts of the estate; most of the land closer to home was warded but anyone could pass through these parts. "And where from?" the wizard added, trying to get a sense of how long she'd been wandering in wolf form.

Watching as he lowered his wand Moira gave a nod of acknowledgement. Summer or winter she always loved Scotland mornings, unless she was in a city. Cities kind of muted the effect she felt, made everything feel rather fabricated.

Moira gave a mild shrug when he mentioned he hadn't known she was an animagus, "Ah dinnae like ta brag." This statement wasn't entirely true of course. She would brag about the McBoid land and animals gladly enough. Conceit and pride for clan territories was definitely understood by the young woman.

"Ah'm not really travelling anywhere and Ah started back at home. Told me dad Ah'd be away fer a wee bit." A wee bit turned out to be three days apparently. Being human again made the need - for lack of a better word- to travel dissipate. Maybe, if her neighbor didn't mind she could visit for a bit, get cleaned up, and then go home. She always had admired the Spectre Estate.

It was some reassurance to know that Moira's father knew she was running around - for a moment Balfour had suspected the witch to have run away from home, the sort of thing people did when they were just graduated and looking to assert their freedom. Or maybe that was just him. Either way it was better for McBoid to be careful when she left home.

"You've been out for a while then," Bal remarked after he'd estimated the distances between their respective lands. "Have you been using any of the bothies? There's one just past the peak-" he nodded his head further along the ridge where the earth rose steeply, "- we can get a spot of tea and reset your bearings. Lucky you didn't stumble here at night."

Balfour began to lead the way, "Have you run into any regular wolves on the way?" he glanced over his shoulder at the witch. Of course, as far as muggle knew, the great wolves of Scotland had been hunted to extinction. What few remained were mostly to be found on wizarding ground, like his own estate of the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts.

Moira did not answer his question about whether she had used any of the bothies. As Balfour was not a fool he could probably figure out the truth from what she did say, “Alright. Tea does sound better than rabbit.” It sounded MUCH better than raw rabbit, though she hadn't minded it at the time.

Normally a person might have been nervous about sleeping outside away from civilization. However, Moira had always felt more at peace outside of the constructions of men. Her time at Hogwarts and general growing up had made her more easy in cities and other such places than she used to be but there had been something rather amazing about staying out as a wolf. It wasn't likely something she would do very often though.

When he started walking she followed him. For the first few steps it was a little strange, balancing on two legs instead of four. At his next question she started to shake her head but paused. “There was one earlier, in the distance.” The two of them had exchanged a look then gone on their separate ways. The she wolf she saw was a beautiful creature, magical or not.

Seeing the bothy up ahead Moira thought back to home and their feed shed. “Tis Monday, yes?”

The bothy stood at the top of the ridge and, while the climb up was dangerously steep, Balfour had become accustomed to clambering around in both wizard as well as wolf form. He trusted Moira to follow - she was like some of the young Spectres and probably knew her way around the wilderness; there was no need to wait for her to catch up.

"Just the one? You're lucky!" Balfour called back with a laugh, "They aren't friendly when they've gathered in a pack. You'd better watch out for that if you intend on going on this way." He knew from personal experience; the wolves on the estate were familiar with Bal but even he had to be careful. A bit like some cats, they could tell he was an animagus.

The ground evened out, more rock and lichen than earth, and he he drew his wand. The bothy up ahead looked welcoming in the dim morning light. It was a small hut of grey rock; moss grew up the sides but the shingled roof was bare as Edwin Glass's head; the winds here being too strong to let anything grow any higher up.

            "Tis Monday, yes?"
"Aye," Balfour gestured with his wand and the door swung inwards. "I have to be at the Ministry in a few hours."

As soon as he entered, the air warmed. The space had been left neat and orderly by whoever had last used it. Fur rugs piled in a corner as a makeshift bed, shelves of odd necessities, a low table. He made for the fireplace, which was stoked and ready to be lit. "Sit," he nodded to the table before starting a fire.

A battered old pot was soon filled with water and left to float on the flames. "How have you been Moira? Alright?" Balfour counted out teabags from a canister on the mantle. "And your father is well I hope?"

Moira, having shorter legs than her current companion, fell behind just slightly a time or two but otherwise kept up with no real issues. As they traveled upwards she listened to his comments about wolves being more dangerous in a group. “I always seem to have a way with luck depending on how you look at it. I'll keep all that in mind, though.”

Reaching more even ground and hearing confirmation as to the day Moira nodded as she straightened up. “Home will be next after this. Tis market day.”

Before entering the bothy the young witch used her own wand to remove most of what nature had left on her person. The inside was clean and neat, showing a definite sign of courtesy and respect by whoever had used it last. Sitting at the table she watched as Balfour began preparing everything for the tea.

“Aye, we're all in good health and the weather's been kind. I've been enjoying the time off before I apply for a job in September.” Her last summer holiday was like any other one, of course. It was filled with plenty of work but most of it she enjoyed doing. Only a few tasks were actually a chore.

"I'm glad to hear it. You must convey my well wishes to your father, when you return." Balfour set down two enamel mugs on the table before lowering himself to a stool across from the young witch, relishing the smell of black breakfast tea that now prevailed.

It complimented the other scents that lingered in the bothy, from years of use; tobacco, wool, earth, moss. The faintest undertone of human sweat. He liked these cosy cottages and reminded himself that he would want to show Johann each and every one when they found more time. There was so much to do and see, each day seemed like an adventure now. Moreso than even his lone wanderings across the world.

As Moira didn't return the courtesy of asking after his own kin, Balfour pushed on with the subject that she did put forward. Most wixes her age would be focused on it.

"What will you be applying to?" he sipped his tea, the question mirrored in his eyes. "Ministry? Magizoology?"

With a nod of acknowledgment on passing on his wishes to her father she considered the two mugs placed on the table. They were not unlike the ones generally used at her own home. Even while the bothy was smaller than their cottage it was not entirely dissimilar just less lived in. If she ever traveled like this again she would have to be sure to use one next time.

Looking back up at his question she replied, “Magizoology with Magical Menageries.” The young witch wouldn't say she was focused on the idea of her future career but it was there in the front, looming closer day by day. Very soon she would have to be.

Moira took a sip of the tea, setting it back on the table and stared at it a moment. After a short stretch of silence a stray, reminding thought passed through her head. “Oh. I'm sorry.” She had been rude. “How is your family? I understand your sister had her baby in March.” Her dad was fairly good about keeping her up to date on any news from the neighbors.

"Menageries? Didn't feel like handling them in the wild?" he laughed, glancing out of a window at the view afforded by how high up the bothy was placed - rough earth spilling downwards into the verdant forest and the Spectre manor somewhere in the distance. "It's safer, I'll give you that much."

Balfour was biased: he loved menageries as much as the next person but they fell short of his passions. His father had tried to convince him to do something safe when he had been Moira's age or younger. It never took.

He turned his attention back to his guest, smiling as she broke the silence to ask after the clan. "Everyone is healthy as can be expected. Knox and Lil Cam, they're doing well. Living in Cumbria." Bal wrapped his hands around his mug, fingers warming. "It's just Johann and me now."

The manor was big for just two wizards but they made the most of it. A little peace in a big place was what they needed after so long in Ira's shadow. It helped that there were plenty of creatures on the estate.

"Which menagerie are you looking to be working at?" his brow wrinkled thoughtfully, "I remember Knox wanted to work in one. Better settled in the Scottish journal though, gets to travel a wee bit more."

“Tis more about the variety of experience and business aspect than wild versus more tame. I do have my family to think about.” Menageries had once been a small home business like her own family's was, even if the McBoid farm was more specific to winged horses and not a general creatures business. Moira had no plans of becoming a rival but the future was vast with potential. It was impossible to guarantee what would happen.

“Besides, I don't think I'd like being laid up with temporary blindness even if an award was involved.[1]” That news certainly hadn't escaped her, even if she wasn't one to read the paper and especially not the tabloids.

Moira smiled as Balfour said everyone was well and healthy though tilted her head slightly when he mentioned it being just the two of them. “Isn't the estate a bit big for just the two of you?” She had visited a few times of course and was always struck by the vast size difference in her own home.

“One of Wentworth and Sons Magical Menageries ranches or breeding centers, so I can still help out at home.” Working essentially two jobs was liable to leave her feeling knackered.

“How are you handling the new trainees on level four or are you passing them off to everyone else?” She chuckled good naturedly, taking another drink of her tea.

1.	Beast Division Misadventure

He smiled at his own reflection in the mug of tea, finding it rather quaint that Moira was already thinking about her family so soon after graduation. Balfour had run away from his clan at her age so his views were different - and it helped that there were so many Spectres. What mattered was coming back, in the end, to his rightful home. With his rightful lover. His smiled softened a bit and he nudged himself to pay better attention to what the young witch was saying.

"It's not the award we do it for," he reminded her with a light laugh. It wasn't for everybody, handling beasts. It was risky and very few could see the point in taking that risk. "We get plenty of visits from the rest of the clan," he answered her question about the estate.

Balfour nodded at the mention of Wentworth's menageries. He had known Arathorn Wentworth, and had been present at the deadly incident in May. Perhaps it was due time that he acquainted himself with the new proprietor to see if they had an interest in following in the old man's footsteps.

            "...or are you passing them off to everyone else?”

The Scotsman forced a laugh, remembering just then why he was not especially close with McBoid's daughter - she quipped in a manner overly familiar. But she was young, and he didn't want to put her off social interactions.

"They're quickly becoming a part of the family." Balfour glanced out of the window to judge the hour of the morning by how much further dawn had encroached. "I had better be off quite soon. Are you apparating home, or is your journey on foot again?"

The award was, of course, a by product. She understood it was about the well-being of non-domestic animals as the Dobhailen[1] was her private pet project still. The young witch had hoped though hadn't expected to glimpse one again, as she had one evening at home for the holidays, while she had been traveling.

Moira nodded in response to his statement before answering how she would arrive home. “I'll be apparating back home. I need to get back before dad leaves the house.” There was some equipment, and feed, she wanted to look over and compare as usual and there were a few seeds she was planning to get for the bare corner section of the garden.

Besides that, she probably needed a break from being a wolf. Moira had a small urge to scratch behind her ear with her foot.

“Thank you for the tea and company. I'll clean up and put everything back in order.” It was only fair, as he had been the one to make the tea after all. He also had a significant other and a job that would require his presence in a short time where she did not.

1.

Dobhailen