Fauna welcomed the warm weather and fresh air as she left the castle in her school uniform, her bag slung over her back. She meandered around trees and headed for the hospital hut, where she hoped Tulo would be this late afternoon. Charms had let out about an hour ago and Fauna wanted to talk to her before dinner time.

She had stalled long enough. A month had passed since the last full moon, since Dion had wondered what she wanted to do about SAWS, and Fauna still didn't have any answers. Tomorrow night, the full moon would rise again, and with it a cloud of fear and dread. Many students were happily oblivious, but there were some like Fauna, who kept checking the clocks, watching the sky, and wondering if somewhere, teeth and claws would tear tomorrow's sunny day asunder.

Fauna swung open the door to the main room, glancing around. No other students in sight. Good!

"Tulo!" She called out in a friendly tone, moving into the kitchen, where she spotted the Healer bent over ingredients.

The fumes of potions were only diminished by the vase of flowers on the kitchen counter and the wind blowing through the open windows. She hovered by the table and gave her a warm smile. When Fauna had returned to Hogwarts after recovering in St. Mungo's, Tulo had looked after her for weeks, helped heal the scratches (and let her cry about the scars), and listened to her talk about Bagnold and Greyfriar and the attack at the Ministry. If there was one person who would be happy to hear her out and know what to do, it was Tulo.

"Are you busy?" Fauna glanced at the potion. "I was hoping to talk to you about something, but I can come back later."

Though she doubted the Healer would allow her the easy way out now that she was here, she put forth a half-hearted attempt anyway!

Two pots simmered on the large, old-fashioned wood stove.  One, indeed, contained a simple yet time consuming elixir.  The recipe only called for four ingredients but it required cooking at a steady, low boil for a minimum of three days to exude all the medicinal benefits from the black walnut hulls and mellow the bite of the stinging nettle.  A hearty black bean and venison chili simmered in the second pot and cast iron skillet cornbread was backing in the oven.  The odd assortment of acrid, sweet, bright and earthy aromas mingled in the cluttered, well-inhabited kitchen.  Not messy, mind you.  Just ... well-stocked.  And in a perpetual state of use. 

"Hello, dear," Tulojow greeted over her shoulder, giving the chili one more stir before draping her hand towel over the back of a chair and turning more fully to Fauna.  She gave the Hufflepuff a warm hug in greeting, dismissing the offer to return later with a shake of her head.  "Nonsense.  Have a seat.  Can I get you something to drink?  Are you hungry?" 

A therapist might claim that Tulojow sought to fill the void left by the loss of her own children through the students.  And, perhaps that claim wasn't entirely untrue.  But, even though the students may be at school and away from home, that didn't mean all the adults in their lives had to be educators and disciplinarians and nothing more.  There should be someplace that felt reminiscent of home. 

"What's on your mind?" Tulojow prompted. 

Fauna happily returned the hug, relieved she'd stopped by. Tulo was so good about making people feel appreciated and doted on. Then there was the food! Cornbread and chili. Mmmm.

"Oh, I'm alright for now, thanks! Maybe later, though," she warned with a grin, taking a seat at the kitchen table and resting her chin in her hands.

"The full moon is tomorrow," she paused, glancing out the window. "I've been thinking about that... and about SAWS." Fauna wondered, for a second, if she should be more worried about potential attacks than the fate of a student group.

"And well, I know I want to do something. I think I should. Not tomorrow, but soon," Fauna's expression turned somber. "I just don't know what I should be doing to help. The other students in the club are kind of looking to me, and waiting for... some kind of answer. I haven't got one." Her face flushed.

There was much more going on in her head, but Fauna didn't quite know how to explain it yet.

With a nod, Tulojow settled herself at the table across from Fauna, a cup of peppermint tea in hand.  A kettle and a spare tea cup had been strategically placed on the table in the event the young woman across from her changed her mind. 

"Yes," Tulojow confirmed, simply.  That seemed to clarify the target of the conversation.  She was sure the upcoming full moon was a topic that weighed heavily on a number of individual's minds.  She already had a sedative and sleep-enhancer prepared for the young man currently occupying the room in the corner.  While she suspected, on a whole, Fauna was coping better than Sasha, that didn't necessarily mean it was a non-event. 

And, the fact that Fauna was even considering SAWS in conjunction with the full moon was proof she, indeed, was coping better with the event.  Or, distraction was her coping mechanism of choice.

"Why not tomorrow?"  Tulojow asked, taking a sip of her tea.  "Tomorrow may influence how you chose to mark the occasion but ignoring what happened usually doesn't lessen the pain.  Keep in mind, as well, it almost coincides with another big anniversary.  And, one that commemorates, among many others, a werewolf who lost his lives protecting ours." 

Tulojow offered a soft, gently smile as she took a sip of her tea.  "There are two kinds of leaders in this world," Tulojow offered as she set her cup back down.  "Those that dictate to others what the answer is and what path they should take and those that help people find their own answers."

Fauna nodded, understanding why the Healer suggested tomorrow, even as worry flitted across her face. It was short notice. She'd have to make fliers, pester people, and figure out how to start the meeting. But those were excuses, she knew. Sometimes Fauna needed a push to get going, and scheduling it for tomorrow would definitely do that.

She smiled softly at the comment about leaders, having no doubt Tulo fell under the latter category. Fauna paused, biting her lip, then glanced up.

"I could do it tomorrow," she agreed slowly. "It's just... I'm still shaken up by, you know, getting attacked," Fauna frowned. "Things have changed. The Flickwicks lost their mother." Many of the students who'd known her, including Fauna, were mourning Ramona Flickwick. "How can I make that any better? I don't know what I think anymore... I know what I feel, and it's a confused mess."

She shook her head, slumping a bit in her seat. "How do I express that without hurting someone. Like I'd either be... not taking the deaths seriously enough, or not addressing what the werewolves are going through enough, or... or a mix of both."

Fauna looked at her, expression conflicted. She wanted to do more good than harm, but didn't trust herself to guide the group in a positive, meaningful direction. 

By the expression that danced briefly across Fauna's features, it was clear the prospect of some activity on the following day was a daunting one.  Whether it was because of the potential significance or the short notice was unclear but both were perfectly valid concerns.  Hopefully, however, neither would prove to fully discourage her.  Sometimes the best and most significant events were the ones with the least planning behind them. 

As Fauna spoke about still being shaken up, Tulojow dipper her head in a gesture of agreement and understanding.  Again, she dipped her head, confirming things had changed.  Aside from the occasional head nod, Tulojow remained quiet and still until the girl across from her slumped in her seat.  Tulojow pushed herself to her feet and circled around the table, taking a seat next to Fauna and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"You don't have to have the answers," Tulojow assured Fauna.  "And, not every gathering needs to have a specific intended goal.  Nor may it be the right time to dictate any one perspective." 

"But, you are certainly not the only one who is confused.  And, I'm sure you're not the only one who's not sure what to think.  But, everyone has a right to the feelings they are currently feeling.  Not allowing them to express those feelings can cause them to fester into bitterness and hatred.  We may have different feelings and perspectives of what happened.  We may have different responses.  But, we can be unified in our pain and our loss or we can be divided in our differences in where we lay the blame." 

Tulojow pursed her lips in thought before taking a sip of her tea.  "You know, at my school, our history teacher had spent several years studying with the monks at a monastery.  She started a tradition based off of the evening vespers.  At least once a week, the girls would gather on the western most island at evening.  We'd usually build a fire and anyone could share whatever they wanted or needed to: songs, poetry, dance on a few occasions.  Some just came to listen and watch the sun set.  Perhaps tomorrow shouldn't even be a SAWS event.  Just an opportunity for anyone to come together, if they chose."

Fauna looked up gratefully when Tulo sat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. As the Healer reassured her that many people were confused and that it was okay for everyone to express different feelings, she poured some tea into the cup that Tulo had left out for her earlier. The way she described her experience, Fauna almost wished she'd gone to the Northwest Witches Academy. It seemed so peaceful, and Fauna was drawn to the idea that she wouldn't need to plan much for tomorrow. She could just set up an opportunity for the students to come together.

Yet SAWS meetings had a history of stirring up conflict and dissent among its members. Every single time they had a meeting, students left, students fought, or someone said something hurtful. They all managed to pick themselves up at the end of the day and get through it, but perhaps it was too much to hope for that she could invite SAWS (and others) to hang out at the hut without also inviting some disaster.

"Maybe..." Fauna trailed off, sounding unenthusiastic. She managed a small smile. "I want it to be that simple," she added. "It's just... based on how other get-togethers have gone, well, there's always some fight in the middle of things," she gave Tulo an apologetic look, feeling bad for being pessimistic. Taking a sip of tea, she paused for a moment before bringing up one of her concerns.

"What should I do if someone, um... if they start talking about werewolves like they're beasts or something? I don't think I can... hear that without getting upset, and I don't think SAWS is really the place for it. But at the same time I'm not sure I should be telling someone who's just been attacked, or lost someone, that they shouldn't say stuff."

Fauna sounded dejected but curious, thinking about Bagnold's general attitude and Sasha's words at St. Mungo's.

Tulojow leaned back in her chair, watching the young woman next to her closely.  Fauna wasn't exactly a classic extrovert but her hesitations and uncertainty were there to read in her features.  But, there was nothing Tulojow could or even wanted to do that could simply whisk that uncertainty away.  It would remain until Fauna found a way to convince herself it wasn't necessary. 

"Whatever you do, I doubt it'll be simple.  Nothing's simple about this matter.  I think it should be organic but that's not necessarily the same thing as simple."  If Tulojow had noticed the look of apology, she gave it no credence.  Tulojow certainly didn't feel a need for it.  It was entirely true that, in the past, conflict had been a routine attendee at the SAWS meetings. 

"That's to be expected," Tulojow pointed out. There was no sense in sugar coating it.  "When you make a stand for something you believe, there will always be people who disagree.  You have to be prepared for that.  But, if this gathering has no predetermined agenda, it'll be harder for others to grab a foothold to disagree with something." 

Which, yes, meant that there may be those that said things that Fauna and the other SAWS members would disagree with.  "Why would you need to do anything?"  Tulojow asked.  "I guess, this comes back to what your goal for this meeting is.  What do you hope to achieve?  And, what do you think needs to be achieved?  Those sometimes are two very separate things."

"I don't know," she admitted. She didn't know what she wanted to achieve, or what needed to be achieved. She was confused about her role in the group, and how to create a safe place for everybody, and to prove to everyone she hadn't given up.

But had she? People were depending on her. That was the main thing driving her forward right now, and it didn't feel like enough.

"I don't want to lecture, or worry about fighting. But I know if someone says something... hurtful... I have to be able to handle that, right? I mean, I just... I haven't handled it well in the past." That's how she felt.

"And now, I mean, there are a few things I could bring up. Like when I visited Greyfriar over the spring holiday, he... said that the Ministry treated him badly. After the attacks. We could focus on that? We could try to make things fairer for the werewolves in holding, but... by doing what?" Fauna swallowed, staring at the tea cup in front of her and fiddling with the handle. Her dismal view of the situation showed clearly on her face.

She cared about Greyfriar and Ollie. They would never dream of hurting anyone, they hadn't attacked anyone on purpose. The other werewolves? No one could be sure. With all the stories about MacDuff in the paper, and the threat of daylight attacks looming over them, Fauna had a hard time focusing on the state of the holding cells or the procedures, and wasn't sure she even should be.

"You don't have to know," Tulojow made clear, again.  "And, maybe that's what you need to remember.  Maybe you don't actually need to achieve anything.  Other than offering an opportunity for people to come together to share in their pain and loss.  No political agendas.  No social agendas.  Just a human agenda." 

Wounds were too fresh.  The pain was too recent.  There was really no right or wrong way to feel about what had happened and most people would be far too closed off to any type of academic discussion. 

"Why do you have to handle it?"  Tulojow shifted in her seat to face the table straight on.  With her arms rested on the table she looked down at both of her hands.  "What's the worst someone might say?  Picture it in your mind.  A group of students gather to share their thoughts and their feelings and someone stands up.  That person - what they have to say is that worst case scenario you are fearing.  What is it?  What does it look like?  What's being said?" 

Fauna fell quiet, feeling like she was missing something and that they were going around in circles. She was looking for concrete advice about how to lead successfully tomorrow, how to let people talk without hurting each other, but she was missing Tulo's point that she didn't necessarily have to handle it like that.

"Well," she bit her lip as Bagnold's face, Sasha's face, and the Flickwicks loomed in her mind. None of the Flickwicks had said anything to make her feel bad, but she worried about them because their mother had died. That nagging, critical voice she'd managed to push aside for most of the year had sprung up again, and like a boggart, it morphed from one SAWS member to another, from one disappointed face to another. She was embarrassed to admit all of her worries out loud, but Tulo was trying to help, and Fauna wanted to get past this.

"I could see someone saying, you know, that I took too long to even organize some kind of get together. That... because I don't have a plan or ideas means I don't care. That I'm not focusing on what's important, or thinking about who's going to lead all of this when the seventh-years graduate."

She let out a breath, then went on. "And on the other side of the spectrum, I can see someone saying that it's pointless for us to try to talk about things or bring something positive out of what happened in March. That we should just give up. That werewolves don't deserve to be helped after everything that's happened. That I shouldn't care more about Ollie than... who she might have hurt," her voice dropped to a mumble.

Fauna glanced worriedly at Tulo, hoping she understood her apprehension.