Marida was frustrated, in more ways then one. She wasn't sure where to start, she supposed thinking back to the reason she is here. She had come to the ministry awhile ago now, she wants to save her herd, but the problem was, how. The only things she knows of their danger is the shrinking population and human interference in their lands. So she swallowed her pride and risked being seen as not a centaur to go to the Ministry. But then what can she do while there? She's spent the entire time meeting other herds. Which led to her other frustration, she wasn't getting anywhere, she felt that Centaurs were more a nuisance for the ministry then they should be respected as the superior species. And meeting the other herds has made her miss home more, but she can't leave, she was set on what she needed to do.

Another frustration, she had nothing to do in the ministry other then considered as a liason, but to consider her an expert on the other herds was insulting, she was from Dartmoor and was not accustomed to the others. But to prove that Dartmoor was worth helping, giving more space and freedom. She would make herself useful in the Ministry properly. And what better way then her skills as a hunter?

Marida pushed opens the door to the Werewolf Capture Unit and marched inside. She was only wanting to do what she knew, not pretending to be a diplomat. She knew how to hunt, to fight, and to take down monsters. To that end she would join the group that can legally hunt the dogs. Things she could do and was trained to do, even if she wasn't allowed to finish them she could prove her worth, and unlike the others. She wasn't at risk of being made into a werewolf, with her strength she can match one in combat, why wouldn't they want her?

Her appearance was somewhat different then she had been since arriving, she took that insult from the werewolf of Hogwarts very deep, she was going to prove her worth, she was a Centaur, a proud and mighty species, she would not be constricted like before, and she would not try to be diplomatic like how she had to before. Another frustration but would be gone was the constriction of what the humans called clothing, it was horrid and limited her movement, how they fought in it was to anyones guess. Along with her having to act polite and pander to the humans.

She stopped once inside and looked about. "Where is the leader?" She asked, her voice keeping its usual gentle and soft manner, but having a new stern tone in it. She stood high and with an air of superiority, she was superior, she could outfight, outrun and was stronger then the humans. Despite the thoughts at the back of her head asking why is her people dying out while humans flourish. But she huffed to clear her mind, her front right hoof slammed down onto the floor as a sign of challenge and for attention. Though ultimately it would be difficult to ignore a centaur standing in the middle of a room, or atleast she usually got stared at wherever she went.

Ten.  Ten days to go before the start of the Werewolf Capture Unit’s next full moon watch, and it seemed as if Bagnold was inventing things for them to do just to run them ragged before the moon even rose. 

This week, it had been visiting every known safe house in the United Kingdom — not just the official Ministry ones, but the privately-run ones too, which were often squirreled away in people’s basements or hidden in the back corner of someone’s property.  And it wasn’t enough to simply visit them: they were supposed to inspect them, enumerate them, make sure each werewolf had an appointed person to watch over them while they were transformed, and make sure that that person knew they were to contact the Ministry immediately if anything untoward or even out of the usual happened.

Needless to say, none of the werewolves or their designated safe people were happy with the questioning, which meant that Tessa and all of her teammates had spent the whole week getting their heads bitten off by short-tempered lycanthropes.  She was only glad that the WCU wouldn’t have to deal with patrolling the safe houses during the full moon.  That horrible assignment had fallen to Level Two.

Still, they were having to organize everything so that they could hand it off to the Aurors, which meant that Tessa and two of her teammates were sitting in the middle of the WCU office, folders spread all around them, when the unexpected visitor had walked in.

”Wait…” Charlie Harris was in the middle of saying.  He pushed his glasses farther up on his nose, looking between the pair of folders that he held in each hand.  ”Which comes first?  G or F?”

Tessa gritted her teeth.  It wasn’t even lunch time, but it already felt like it had been a long day.

“How do you not know —“ she’d started to snap at him, when the door swung inwards and an enormous…witch…horse…person…thing stepped in.

Tessa turned as one, along with Harris and Sasaki, and stared.

She’d seen a centaur before.  There was a whole herd of them in the forest at Hogwarts, and they’d spent a whole unit on them in Care of Magical Creatures.  She’d even known that there was a centaur that was occasionally spending time in the Ministry.  It was impossible not to know, considering that the Centaur Liaison Office had suddenly become a priority again and the entire Beast Wing had acquired a faint horsey smell.

But it was one thing to know what a centaur was, or even to observe it clip-clopping around a Ministry hallway from a distance.  It was quite another to behold one barging into your office, particularly when said centaur had apparently abandoned any attempt at humoring human modesty and wasn’t wearing any shirt.

Harris, his wide-eyed gaze affixed on the centaur’s top human half, made a half-choking, half-squeaky sound.

That was enough to snap Tessa out of it.  She shot an annoyed look at Harris, and then snuck a glance at Sasaki, who was also gaping at the centaur.  Boys.  She rolled her eyes

“Um,” she said, inconspicuously attempting to kick first Harris, then Sasaki, one at a time without the centaur noticing.  “I think you might be in the wrong place.  This is the Werewolf Capture Unit office,” she said, as helpfully as she could manage, turning back towards the centaur.  Spectre’s new office is down the hall and to the right.”   

At least, she thought that was where it was located; they’d all been banned from going there as soon as the new Department Head had moved in. 

Spectre? No, she did not care for him. That was not who she wanted to see either, she knew someone was running the WCU, she knew that there was two leaders, who was leading who though she did not know, one was the head of the capture unit, the other was head of the werewolf wing and was a werewolf. She knew that the Werewolf wing was the higher ranking position, but she couldn't be bothered to know who either were. Kurby sounded like a name for either male or female to her.

She gave another look about at the people in the office before looking at those infront of herself. Two males were struggling to even look at her, sounding like they were unable to even breathe. Were both really in shock at seeing a centaur? Or was this what she was told about, that people find it..what did they call it, unnerving? Disturbing? Shocking? Arousing? To go without those restricting things on herself, were they really unused to seeing such things?

Atleast the other one with them wasn't breaking down at the sight of her. That was something for sure, and apparently was something that should be respected if the other two are any indications. Even if she gave the wrong answer it was certainly better to have someone who could reply to her. Conversations were useful to get information from people.

"What is wrong with them?" She asked gesturing to the other two with her head, she didn't really notice the kicks to them, only that they seemed to be able to somewhat recover from the shock of a centaur walking into the office. Perhaps they didn't believe the rumours, although the fact they were rumours were slightly annoying to her as its not as if she was easy to hide in the underground labyrinth.

"And no, I'm looking for the head of the capture unit." A hoof clopped down onto the ground as if to mark her point, although really she thought that slamming her hoof down onto the ground would be loud enough to summon who was in charge of the unit, as any person should be able to hear her, but then she always forgets that humans are used to loud places and as such zone out in them. The idea of it was still beyond her comprehension though. The very idea of being in a city was beyond her comprehension. They were not natural and stank and everyone stared at her like some sort of freak. They were the ones living in horrible conditions after all.

"Go and tell them that that I wish to join."

"What isn't wrong with them," Tessa muttered, shooting first Harris and then Sasaki an annoyed look. 

Now that she'd gotten over the shock of it, the centaur's appearance wasn't even that remarkable; she just happened to not be wearing any clothing, which was probably normal when your bottom half was a horse.  But the boys were still staring as if they'd both made it all the way through Hogwarts and into their professional careers without ever seeing a member of the opposite sex without a shirt on before.

But the centaur's next comment made her blink hard again.

She was here to see Bagnold?  The idea of having to tell their testy boss that a centaur was here to see him didn't sit well with the blonde witch.  It was made even less palatable by the centaur's next demand, which made Tessa gape at her outright.  She wanted to join?  She glanced uncertainly at her two compatriots, one on each side.  The centaur wanted to join the Capture Unit?  Did she even know what the Capture Unit did?

Whatever the centaur did or did not know, it was clear that Tessa didn't want to be in the middle of it.  Better to pass this one off to Bagnold and then find something else to occupy herself far, far away from the WCU office for the rest of the afternoon.

Sighing, she rose to her feet, careful not to disturb the piles of folders that she'd been painstakingly arranging on the floor.  "I'll get him," she assured the centaur, taking care to step on Harris's foot now that she had a better angle as she turned.  "Stop objectifying her," she hissed under her breath at her teammates and made an immediate beeline for the door of the former storage closet that Bagnold had now apparently adopted as his office.

It felt like he had been rifling through the check-in log from the safe house outside of Peel for hours when the knock finally came at the door.  Kurby glanced up, eyes bleary, and shut the book, turning it over and dropping it on top of the collection of scattered parchments and folders that covered his desk.

"Yeah?" he said gruffly, as he attempted to shuffle everything into something resembling a pile.

 He was unsurprised to see Fenneken stick her head in; a glance at the small clock on the fireplace mantle said that it was almost lunchtime, and she was far more likely to speak up than either of the other kids that he'd stuck on paperwork duty with her today.  But then Fenneken cleared her throat, looking a bit uncertain, and stayed mostly behind the door, as if she were worried he might throw something at her for the interruption.

"There's, uh, a centaur here that wants to talk to you."

Kurby blinked.  "A what?" he asked sharply, brows knitting.

Fenneken looked to be inching backwards, disappearing further behind the door.  "A centaur.  And she's not wearing a shirt, so don't stare.  Oh, and we're going to take an early lunch," she announced suddenly, before flouncing away and vanishing back into the wider office.

The werewolf hunter frowned after her.  Silently, he looked down at the papers he'd been cross-referencing, and then sighed and rose to his feet.  A goddamned centaur.

Rubbing his forehead, convinced that he already had the start of a headache, Kurby headed for the door to the Capture Unit's main office.

As Fenneken had said, there was indeed a centaur standing in the middle of it, towering over the rest of the room.  She looked young, with messy black hair that ran down her back until it merged with the chestnut fur on her lower horse half.  Also, as Fenneken had said, she was entirely naked, a feature that was probably less shocking to him than it had been to any of his young team members who had witnessed her original entry into their office.

Crossing his arms, Kurby regarded her silently, waiting for this unexpected visitor to state her business. 

She watched the woman go to get whoever was in charge, their workplace was...cluttered. The room seemed cramped to her anyway, but then all the rooms did. Messing up the floor was just odd to her considering how small the place was, but as much as she didn't like them, she supposed it wasn't unreasonable to assume that the humans had never prepared for a centaur to actually visit, so of course the room wasn't built to her proportion. Didn't explain why anyone would want to work in a dingy place underground with such a small ceiling and cramped conditions.

The WCU atleast would go about, being the ones to bring in werewolves...or mark their corpses. As she waited for the women, who was peeking into the office instead of entering, she gave a glare to the other two staring at her, a small huff of annoyance left her. "Not even interested in the muscle?" She said with some sort of annoyance, she assumed it was because of the fact of her appearance, it boggled her mind that they would prefer lumps of fat over the muscle proving she was a strong partner. What an odd way of breeding, not even going for the strongest.

The group left soon however, and the leader walked out...

"You got fat." She says bluntly as she inspects him, she remembered him, they had met before and she hadn't met many others from the WCU, she remembered one being able to spook despite their job. "Or maybe its just age affecting you." She said with a mocking smirk.

He had aged, or she swore he had, maybe a few grey hairs. She didn't know how often they had to combat werewolves, but at the very least he had encountered a few, he was alive still and hadn't been turned into a werewolf. She respected that aspect, he must be fairly strong and skilled to have managed this long with the frailties of a human body. He deserved to retire she reckoned, although she wouldn't wish it on anyone, perhaps as those older to her said she was too young and hotheaded to understand peace. But that didn't matter at the moment.

Her tail swished as she took a few steps forwards. "I've come looking to join the Werewolf Capture Unit."

If there had been any doubt in his mind whether this was that centaur, they vanished as soon as she opened her mouth.  Kurby stood very still, his expression perfectly impassive save for his raised eyebrows, as he regarded the half-girl, half-equine beast. 

She'd grown since his encounter with her, too.  The encounter in Dartmoor National Forest had been what -- six, seven years ago, if both Chen and Harfooey had been present?  The centaur had had the appearance of a young teenager then, which probably put her now in her early twenties.  All of that could be completely meaningless, though -- he had no idea how long centaurs lived or how quickly they aged.

Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help but notice that his three young team members appeared to have slowed their hurried rush to escape to an early lunch down to a practical crawl.  Of course.  If he hadn't been in the middle of staring down the centaur, Kurby would have rolled his eyes at them.

The centaur didn't seem to have learned anything about human manners since the last time he'd encountered her.  If it hadn't been for all of his recent adventuring with vampires, he might have been more annoyed by her, especially in the aftermath of the last full moon's crisis, but the time he'd spent coming to learn about Laz and his coven had at least given him a better understanding that the culture of non-human beings could be very different.

Still, he thought, eyeing the centaur as she stepped toward him.  He didn't really have time for this. 

"Well, you're doin' a shite job of it," Kurby retorted, cocking an eyebrow at her.  "Go bother Spectre.  His office is down the hall."

She thought she was doing a rather good job, its just not her fault that he was mistaking her excellent performance as being bad at it. She wasn't taking no for an answer, not that easily atleast. Go speak to Spectre he said, like that would work, he would turn her down for fears of inciting disorder with centaurs or some such, and thats if she would even be able to see him. He was always busy it seemed and likely avoiding her, intimidated by her? Quite possibly, it made sense, she was bigger and stronger and they hadn't met too preferably so there was that.

"Didn't take you for a coward." She smirked and crossed her arms, staring down towards the werewolf hunter. "You think he will just allow me even if I can talk to him, he is..." She thought for the word, annoying? Finicky? "A politician." She believed that was the right word. "He won't allow something that could put me at risk unless there is a reason. But you've seen me fight." She took a step backwards so they could more easily eye to eye.

She was set on this, the Ministry was having problems with Werewolves, either due to attacks or being attacked, they needed something to change the tides, she didn't like the idea of protecting them so much, but it was probably the best way she can prove herself to them, and by extension represent the Dartmoor group better, if they came to understand the skills available, they would be given more freedom, more of their land could be returned and aid could be given to them. Allowing them to live for more generations then the currently dwindling numbers.

"If you let me join, I will do whatever training you want me to and beat it, I will even help protect, I'm fairly certain you could do with someone who can physically wrestle a werewolf without risk, couldn't you." Her tone turned from the mocking and half amusement to a serious degree, she was out of ideas of how to work with the humans and do something that could help those on Dartmoor, this seemed to be her best shot at it, they won't just accept help and the Ministry won't just give help when its easier to placate the humans in the area.

The centaur's people skills had shown zero improvement since six or seven years ago.  Still, her description of Level Four's new Department Head -- a politician -- was accurate enough to make him snort.  Yes, Kurby could imagine Spectre viewing a wayward, hoof-in-her-mouth centaur as something to protect and shove out of sight.  Less chance of causing an interspecies incident, fewer criss-crossed Floos for the Ministry to navigate.

Something about this struck him as strange, though, and it was likely the half-girl, half-horse creature standing in the middle of his office.  Centaurs didn't do that.  He'd run into a handful over the years, but for the most part, they kept to themselves and stuck to their own territory.  Despite being threatened by Voldemort, the centaurs hadn't gotten involved in the last war until the very end of the Battle of Hogwarts.  Even during the first time that he'd met this filly, it was because his Capture Unit team had stumbled onto her herd's turf tracking a werewolf down in Dartmoor.

So what was she doing here now?  For years and years, the Centaur Liaison Office had sat empty.  It had become something of a hollow joke; back when he'd been a particularly obnoxious kid or stepped out of line in an especially offensive way, Mainwaring had even threatened to reassign him to it four or five times.  Why the hell had this centaur filly, who'd expressed nothing but distaste for humans the first time he'd met her, suddenly decided that she not only wanted to engage with the Ministry, but now wanted to sign up for the Capture Unit?

His three young employees were still lingering, to the point where they didn't even look like they were pretending to gather up their things.  Harris, he noted dryly, was even starting to nod along in support of the centaur's last few points until Fenneken punched his arm. 

Raising his eyebrows, Kurby turned his head just enough to give them a very pointed look.  That was enough to send the three of them into a flurry again; he waited until they'd gathered their things and fled from the office, letting the door slam shut behind them, before he looked back at the centaur.

The scattered chaos throughout the broader WCU office was enough to make him twitch a little, but there was no way the filly was going to fit inside the suspected broom closet that he'd finally adopted as his workspace.  Kurby regarded her silently for a moment longer, and then pulled out the chair at Bellingham's desk and sat down in it backwards so that he could face her.

"All right, then," he said, in the same this-is-probably-a-bad-idea-but-I'm-doing-it-anyway tone that he might use if he were letting someone goad him into a bar fight.  "Why?"

The others were rushing off to parts unknown, likely they thought was going to end badly and so didn't want to be caught here when they believed she would attack them as everything went wrong and she got rejected, or as she heard the girl say. They were going to get lunch, perhaps it was a mixture of both avoiding an awkward conversation and to avoid having to do work as they go for lunch. Either way it did not matter to her in the end.

She watched as he pulled out a chair to sit upon, as much as she hated admitting a failure, it was likely best they did talk here, after all she would not fit into that room he apparently worked in, why someone would accept being in a smaller room in a small room in a cave was anyone other then her's guess. She still didn't understand why they worked in caves filled with the scent of sweat and other bodily things. She walked through a corridor with a broken bathroom and even at the other end it still smelt up the place, how they lived like this, she supposed masochism.

The main point though from him.

"Why?"

That was a question, one she had already answered to herself multiple times and kept going over if there were better ways, but there simply wasn't another way she could think of unless she spent more time working things out, but the more time she spent the more she would damn them and the more the fault would be on her as to why they would die out.

"You've met a few centaurs I imagine. We don't just accept things, especially from others. We don't have the land anymore, or the ability to farm, and as you may imagine we need to eat alot, but horses only eat plants. So we are limited on food, unable to farm as we must keep moving to avoid the humans as your Ministry dislikes us being spotted. Only a few generations ago we numbered higher then we do now." She laid her body down so she would be more face to face with him, however even then she did stay slightly taller than a sitting human, but it was best she could manage.

"If I can prove that we can be useful. And get them to accept aid for work, like a job so we don't just accept aid for nothing. We might survive, we might even get some of our territory back. I am not saying to inte....int..." She huffed in annoyance as she tried thinking of the word. "Combining, that won't happen, I'm perhaps the most tolerant and I hate it here. But helping eachother. We cannot be turned into Werewolves, or Vampires." She resisted the urge to spit to clear her tongue of the word. "We are stronger and tougher. There is benefit to this, if I can prove that I am, and so Dartmoor, is worth working with on this, then we might survive, you might get less werewolves and less injuries."

She stared down at him, shifting her hair to clear her eyes so she could stare directly in, she hated having to ask for this, it showed over her features also, but she knew that ultimately she wouldn't have the upper hand with Humans, certainly due to the fact that they outnumbered her, she could easily take ten out if needs be but that wouldn't get her anyway.

The centaur began to give her answer, more thoughtfully than he might have expected from her initial abruptness. As she spoke, she carefully lowered her horse body to lay on the ground, folding her legs beneath her, as if to mimic how he himself had sat.   

There was something distinctly strange about seeing a centaur up close, especially in a quiet moment in the middle of the Capture Unit office.  When he'd encountered them before, it had always been in the middle of the dark woods, jolted by action, and he'd never really observed one so near-at-hand.  The centaur filly still towered over him when she sat, with a dark chestnut coat and black markings on her lower horse half.  She looked young, maybe not so far off in age than most of his WCU team members, and if it weren't for her pointed ears, it might not have been hard to mistake her for human.

When he'd encountered her before, this centaur girl had leapt at every chance of confrontation.  Listening to her speak now, her justification for barging into his office and interrupting his morning sounded well-reasoned, even if it felt unnervingly out of his pay grade.  The centaur wanted to prove that she and her kind were useful to magical folks, and so she'd settled on the Capture Unit as the way to do it.

This wasn't his problem.  If this centaur wanted a job at the Ministry, then there were plenty of wix in the Beast Division who didn't seem to have anything better to do than to frolic about with magical creatures.  He, meanwhile, had plenty that he needed to get done, which, at the moment, began with the three feet of parchment from the Minister's new inquiry that was sitting on his desk and ended with the modified full moon patrols he was going to have to start running in just under ten days.

Except...

Except something about this premise -- a young outcast wanting to join the Werewolf Capture Unit so that she could find a place where she could prove herself and be useful -- felt personally uncomfortable enough that he didn't really want to think about it anymore.  Nobody signed up for the WCU because they were looking for a steady paycheck.

Kurby sighed, pressing his fingers tightly to rub his temples. 

"Right now," he told the centaur tiredly, looking up to meet her green gaze, "what I need bleedin' less of is headaches. Why don't you go talk to Fournier and Gamp and see if one of them can think of some other service you can do?"

He wasn't listening to her, it was getting very much on her nerves, she is a hunter, what other jobs are there for her? She can't serve as their so called Auror, how was she meant to restrain or capture a Wix? She can't use weapons on them, she can't use much in the way of magic. Although Centaurs can use magic she has never learned much, meaning that she was basically useless vs them, able to just wave a wand and kill her or disappear as soon as she arrives. How can she work as that? She can't, especially when not allowed to maim or kill them.

What other job can work for her? She cannot read or write English or any other human language, so that removes most other job's in the Ministry. She doesn't even know what those Unspeakables do and she doubted they'd appreciate her being there. The only real work she can do is bodyguarding or working with Level 4. Could she tend to some magical creatures? Sure, but she is also listed as a creature, she is listed as lesser then Humans, Dartmoor helps the ponies and looks after them but that doesn't translate well to Dragons and Nargles. Especially since most she can't counteract with magic so again she is at a major disadvantage, magic was the major changer, there is a reason why they've tried to stay away from Dragons.

She couldn't see any other role she would work in, and she wasn't going to mop the floors, with a small huff she shook her head.

"And what would they give me? I can't do any other job here, almost everything requires magic. If you tell them they wouldn't turn me down. I can't become a werewolf and I am physically stronger. I can be with you to respond, while you lot prepare or regroup or need to fall back or anything. I can distract and take on the werewolf. You've seen me fight, I can fight without killing them." She does not seem happy at the idea however. "I can directly fight while you have to rely on trapping and distracting."

She sighed and brushed her hair away from herself, pushing it towards her back. "If you need something to help your headache, I can make a remedy for that. I just need some herbs."

The centaur filly could certainly fight: Kurby had hardly forgotten his first encounter with her.  But if all the Werewolf Capture Unit needed was fighters, then he'd hire the same stone-cold loner types that made up Level Two's Hitwixen and be damned with the rest of their usual recruiting efforts. 

He didn't need fighters.  What he needed were Capture Unit members whom he could trust to follow orders and keep their cool, but he also needed to know that they'd give a bleeding damn if the werewolf they were trying to stop suddenly tried to rip an arm off of a passing Muggle.  He needed them to give a damn about someone besides themselves, to care about the rest of their team and what they were trying to accomplish, or they'd be off and on their way the first moment a full moon went sour.

The centaur might be able to distract and fight better than someone with a wand could, but he wasn't about to turn her loose in a field with the rest of the Werewolf Capture Unit.  His team had learned how to follow orders and hold their own, but they weren't the battle-hardened veterans that had made up the WCU for most of the past few decades.  With the notable exception of Gervais Bellingham, most were less than five years out of Hogwarts.  Adding a trigger-happy centaur to the mix seemed like an exceptionally bad idea.

The fact that he was even considering this as a possibility made his head ache more.  And, as if on cue to prove that she was willing to demean herself as much as possible, the centaur offered to help with that, too.  Kurby gritted his teeth and shot her a sour look; the last thing he wanted to do to kick off the next full moon was explain to Athena Marrowbone why she was sharing herbologist duties with a centaur.

"All right," he growled, teeth clenched tight.  "If you want me to consider lettin' you join up, then you can goddamned well come out on our next training exercise and prove you can fit in as part of the team." 

The words sounded like a horrendous idea even as they were leaving his mouth.  He had no idea how he was going to justify this to the rest of the Capture Unit, let alone explain himself to Bruce Ballentyne, but he'd somehow managed to let himself be talked into this.  Or talk himself into it?  Either way, Kurby shot the centaur a pointed look to make sure she understood his terms.  There would be no more negotiation. 

"After the full moon," he said firmly.  "And if you mention this to anyone else, then the offer's done."

He was submitting to the idea of it, although not completely. Regardless it was a good sign, and showed that the human before her was not completely a fool. As the stars had foretold her, she was getting her way. This was good, he was not seeming to like the idea, she would prove him otherwise as to why it was a good idea, his team needed someone like her, it was a miracle there weren't more deaths or people being turned in their group.

"Good." She replied bluntly with a soft huff, as she straightened herself up, trying to act like it was never a question that he would accept her into the group, even though he has yet to fully accept her. He wanted her to join the next team exercise, she can do that, she was excellent at exercise, she could outrun all of them after all. And more then likely had greater body strength then them all.

The fitting as part of a team seemed odd however, by their own definitions, she does not fit. She is a 'Beast' to them, not on equal grounds or rights, admittedly she did not want to be classified as the same thing as Vampires, but regardless, she would prove she can work as part of a team. If worse comes to worst, she can let someone ride on her back to prove it so, an advantage she has over the humans, she can carry the injured out.

Although she liked the idea of physically grappling and wrestling with a werewolf, she was no fool with it, she would not manage long against one, they were still stronger then her, but she could hold them for a short while for the others to regroup.

"After this full moon." She nodded. "And I will not mention it. I do not have many to talk to." She then glanced at the door as she remembered the ones that were here before, she knew they ran off to avoid being in this situation, perhaps it was because they feared her, or feared the man infront of her now, he wasn't in a good mood so they could be scared of him.

She started to swing her body around to turn, miraculously or perhaps with great skill, she managed to avoid hitting or knocking anything. "Those in here earlier, if I am to learn to fit in, who were they?" She remembered one of the things they said...the female of them. "And perhaps later you can tell me what objectifying means."

"What objectifying --?" Kurby started, before abruptly deciding that he didn't really want to know.

If the centaur filly wanted a lesson in witches' rights, she could go to brunch with his sister, he thought sourly. Or Nemo: that certainly sounded like a word that the little American witch would throw at him when she was angry about some perceived slight. The three of them could go complain about wizards over mimosas or something.

At least the centaur's first question offered him a reason to drop this whole annoyance on someone else.

"That was Fenneken, Sasaki, and Harris," he informed her tiredly. Judging by the speed at which the young trio had fled after their surprise guest had arrived, all three were now on his shitlist -- just under Bellingham, whom he still hadn't forgiven for his betrayal in December.[1] "You want to be mates, knock your arse off."

At least he'd managed to delay the rest of this headache until after the February full moon. If he were lucky, Kurby speculated gloomily, maybe Tawse would manage to finally be the death of him and he wouldn't have to deal with the centaur filly again at all.

He had started to turn back to his office, wishing not for the first time that he bothered to keep a stash of alcohol in his desk like Balfour Spectre did, when one last thought occurred to him.

"And your name is?" he asked shortly, with an annoyed look back at the filly. "Unless you're just plannin' on going by Centaur from now on."

1.	From her trouser pocket, Ballentyne removed a galleon and threw it in Bellingham’s direction. “Good call. He is still an arse hole.”