Who: Carabosse and Puss de Carabas
When: A Thursday, late evening
Where: The forest
What: They chat about her arrival and other things

It was late in the evening, shadows creeping along the trees.

Carabosse stood stately in the midst of the forest. She hoped to catch a glimpse of the King but she could not know the kind of mischief he was running about just now. When the cat slinked up behind her, brushing his bright orange tail over her clean, black dress she almost frowned.

"Do you care to explain what took you so long de Carabas?"

He purred rather loudly, as if to say I missed you before he spoke. "I had to find someone I could trust. I can't exactly write with my paws."

"Did you forget about the signal I made for you?" she asked, her perfectly plucked brows crinkled. It hadn't taken all that long to put together. She packaged it simply so that the cat could easily open it. The black butterflies inside would float back to her and burst into red flowers if it was a good location for her to move, black flowers if she needed to find some other place to dwell.

"Oh," he said. "Oh. Yeah. I did forget." It was still resting in the bottom of his bag, forgotten underneath his discarded, scarlet clothing.

She should not have been surprised. Puss had a famously bad memory. She took a few steps further into the woods, her long black dress swishing around her legs. "Have you seen him?" she asked the cat who trailed behind her.

"Oh yes," Puss replied. "He looks wonderful," he said. "Up to trouble."

"Of course he is," the tall witch replied. She was fey too. She understood the need to cause havoc and chaos, as if it were a biological imperative. "Have you seen her?"

"Well Boss," Puss answered, using his favorite nickname for Carabosse. He shrugged his rounded shoulders, a gesture hardly noticeable from his stance on all four paws. "I haven't. He doesn't seem too perturbed that she hasn't arrived yet. His season's carried on longer than normal."

"Curious," Carabosse said quietly. She wasn't about to explain why this was so curious to Puss. He knew a great deal of information her typical servants would never learn. Of course, Puss wasn't her typical servant; he wasn't a servant at all.

"I did find someone you would take a great interest in," he said proudly, as if this were his first task and not some secondary mission he'd assigned himself. "She's a witch, but she doesn't know how to use her magic yet. She was a princess and she wandered away from..."

"Carabas," she said, silencing his rambling words. "I did not come to take an apprentice. I came to settle a place for myself."

Puss laughed, such a strange noise from a cat, "if you don't take her on, I will." He wasn't going to tell her that he already promised his tutelage to the girl.

"You'd teach her the old ways?" Carabosse asked suddenly disturbed. "Blasphemy."

"You think I don't have an itch to practice my own magic?"

"You'd be her slave."

"I'd be her servant. It's not entirely the same. My servitude would have a length, an end result. And I would see her have magic to rival your own."

"Honestly Puss," she said, using his common name, an uncommon thing for the dark fey. "I believe you capable and you have a wonderful eye to pick out those with talent. Just the same, I would rather not see you serving some creature that you had to teach the ancient ways. If she cannot learn to invoke you herself then she has no right invoking you at all."

Puss was quiet for a time, sitting next to one of his favorite ladies. He had this habit of collecting powerful, magical entities to surround himself with. It was almost like being home, amongst his own people. He often wondered, since Cara obviously knew the ancient ways, why she had never invoked him. He chalked it up to stubborn pride. What she couldn't achieve on her own was hardly worth achieving. "I see someone who needs my help Boss. I can't help it. I haven't felt this way since the miller called me forth."

Carabosse shook her head. "You do what you want to Puss. If you can achieve some measure of success with your little witch I may just take her on."

The cat was practically glowing with happiness, relieved that she agreed. He purred his approval rather loudly and rubbed against her dress leaving little remnants of orange fluff on her hem.

"Really now Carabas. Do you know how difficult it is to keep black clothing free of lint?"

"Did you go to the main office yet?"

Carabosse made the tiniest sound of disapproval. "I won't have dealings with that blithering hell cat." She'd seen the Chesire Cat slinking about, invisible to everyone; she had an eye for such tricks and the good sense to stay away from a secretive creature like that. "Need I really go?"

Puss wrinkled his nose, whiskers twisting this way and that as he did. "They seem to take it pretty seriously. At least you get free lodgings in exchange for a little work."

The witch frowned at him, barely visible in the darkness. She laid the palm of her left hand on a nearby tree and let it speak to her. This is a good place. A safe place. She let go before letting her own thoughts run free. She hated safe, good places; so damn predictable, filled to the brim with the honorable and innocent. At least her King was here. Together they could raise an impressive amount of hell.

"There's another mayor who sits at the office in the daytime. If you speak with him I'm sure he'll be reasonable and fair."

She clucked her tongue. "How much did you tell him?"

Puss sat, his front legs holding him erect. Of course his Boss could see straight through him; it was one of her gifts. "I didn't tell him about the shapetide. Only that I'm capable of certain kinds of blood magic and more powerful than I look."

"Did he asses you as a threat?"

"He's a child. One of the goodhearted, kind folks. I don't think he knew enough to see me as I am."

Carabosse nodded, satisfied. She wouldn't walk into this meeting entirely disillusioned, but she had a very good head start on what to expect. "If you don't mind, Puss, I'd like to take some time to familiarize myself with these woods."

"Course not. Good seeing you, Boss." With that the orange cat scampered off into the night, a flick of orange tail around a tree and he was gone.

The witch lingered where she was, touching trees, asking polite, quiet questions of the wood. Her King was in this world, but not in the forest tonight. She would be welcome here. The magic she spent on traveling to Haven was already replenished by her conversations with these trees. It was as if the land was as nourished by her arrival as she by simply tapping in to say hello. She wasn't entirely certain that Haven was as suitable as Puss thought, but she was willing to give it a try.