Catherine Forbin

“I’ll take your word for it, Catherine.” Lorenzo grinned, he liked eating protein rich foods – steak, chicken, lamb. How well a fish soup and vegetables would fair in this palette made him think that he may not particularly enjoy it as much as he would a good ol’ steak. “If it’s coming so highly recommended,” He smirked, “I ought to give it a go.” As the two were set on the dishes they were having for the night, Lorenzo politely motioned for a waitress to attend to them. “We’ll be having the Soupe de Poison Rouille?” The werewolf said, looking cluelessly at Catherine, sure that he had butchered the name. “That’s some very interesting history of French cuisine, Ms. Forbin.” He smiled, “Although what I really did what to discuss this evening was the French Revolution.” 

“Thank you for the vote of confidence” she answered with an easy smile. The werewolf would trust her judgment, all she could hope for now was that he would not be disappointed for heeding her advice. Once the waitress approached upon Lorenzo’s request, Catherine offered the woman a polite smile. She caught the man’s look at her and and a gentle smile made its way to her lips “-Poisson à la Rouille” she whispers slowly, discreetly correcting his pronunciation of it. “I know you did. But we had to start somewhere” she offers with a light shrug “A slightly less elaborated version of this soup was the dish that I prepared most often for the people I tended to help- poor people, that is”. she says as a hand moves up to brush a loose hair, setting the golden thread behind her ear “I fed this soup to the revolutionaries that later ordered my execution”.

Give me a ship and I’ll tell you:

“I’ve never had that.” He confessed. Each time he’d come dine in this well respected establishment Lorenzo Valerio ordered one thing and one thing only: his beloved and delicious medium rare steak. It reminded him of his mother’s cooking, a privilege he hasn’t tasted in years. Dinner time in the Valerio home was something Lorenzo was always looking forward to each day. They’d gather around the dinner table, say grace, and dine like kings – with a few food fights instigated by yours truly. “Poisson à la Rouille – perhaps I’ll try it tonight. A little change.” He smiled, a smile for new taste. “I’m sure, I’m sure,” Lorenzo said, waving a hand, “– if I wasn’t I wouldn’t have invited you out here in this fine place.”

“Then you are missing out, Mr. Valerio” she replied with a gracious smile. The dish she was thinking of ordering had her stamp of approval in every way. Born a noblewoman, well-acquainted with refined flavours and the fanciest of foods, Catherine considered herself a good authority when it came to French cuisine nowadays. The Whitelighter’s lips curved into a soft smile when the professor decided to other that same dish as well “Well, now my good word is on the line. I hope that you shall enjoy it”. She picked up the glass of water that was set before her and took a sip “Did you know that this dish originates from Provence? Throughout history Provençal cuisine has had three foundations: olive oil, garlic and aromatic herbs. All three are in the Soupe de Poisson à la Rouille, of course. Jean-Noël Escudier, an author on the history of Provençal food said that the king of Provence is the olive tree. I always found the monicker suited the olive tree far too well. There is no good cuisine without good olive oil, after all. There’s some history for you, Mr. Valerio” she finished, a gentle smile settling on her lips. The purpose of this dinner had been to discuss history, after all.

The Whitelighter had left Savannah in the infirmary several hours ago, parting from her only to head back to tend to some other injured students. Even if the witch’s situation was no longer one of life or death, Catherine had continued to worry over her health, and so she was back to check up on the redhead. “Miss Thorne?” she said with a gentle knock on the door. “May I?” the woman was prudent enough to ask, considering that in her state, perhaps the girl was indisposed to receive visitors. If she wasn’t, at least she would leave the small box she was holding in both hands. 

This wasn’t the first time Savannah had been healed. In fact, with her antics, she wound up in Harvey’s office far more often than what someone would deem normal – even for a self-proclaimed klutz. In those cases, however, Savannah would have no trouble admitting that she’d usually brought it upon herself; thinking surfing a mattress down the stairs, for instance, or drunkenly making a flip off the Huntsman’s roof. Her injuries were mediated by reckless behavior and stupid decisions. But it was fair to say, this time round, it wasn’t entirely within her control. Who would have known a pack of Manticores would be crossing through this neck of Clearbrook’s woods? If the faculty had known, surely, the camping trip would have been postponed or some precautionary measures would have been taken. 

Once Savannah’s eyes flickered open, Carter allowed himself to start breathing again. He didn’t know how he would have lived with himself if she had - no, no. Just the thought alone was too painful. He had grown far too attached to the redhead and there was no turning back now. He would lay down his life for her though he had almost failed earlier today. But all was…better now.

When trying to heal someone as wounded as Savannah had been moments ago, it was always a gamble. There was no way for Catherine to know whether or not her powers would be enough, all she could do was try and hope she would not be the one who failed to keep her alive. The last thing the woman wanted was to have the weight on her shoulders, the bitter reminder in her mind, that she had let the girl’s life slip through her fingers. Fortunately for all three of them, the witch hadn't crossed the line into the unknown just yet.

People on the brink of death always had great stories to tell; a bright light, life flashing before their eyes, a flood of regret for not having led their life right … every cliche in the book had been adapted in the form of a movie, book or song. Savannah wasn’t sure what to expect, nor conscious to really speculate about which of the big cliches she’d endure. 

Time seemed to stop once he got back on the camp ground. Each second that ticked by felt like it could be Savannah’s last. And there was nothing Carter could do but scream until he was blue in the face. So he did. “Help! Someone! Now!” He desperately screeched not able to move.  Why wasn’t anyone there? Didn’t anyone care?

“I do not know, Carter...” Catherine answered truthfully. She would not like promising that she would save his friend when she was not sure she would be able to. The woman stared at the redhead with fear embeded in her eyes. Her whole power was being poured into healing Savannah, the white glow intensifying with each passing second. But even all her will to save the girl could prove to be insufficient. Whitelighters were no miracle workers. When a person was too far gone, when the damage was just too great, there was nothing their powers could do to bring them back. The paleness of the witch’s face caused dread to settle in her heart for a moment, fearing that perhaps the girl was a corpse already. 

Of all the near-death experiences Savannah had had, this one would have to be one that terrified and shook her the most; neither one of them was really sober or in any condition to quickly make smart, life-saving decisions. And worst of all, if things weren’t getting better from here on out, she would be facing a slow and painful death. Bleeding out, mangled and sore, really wasn’t the way anyone wanted to go. If things got even worse, Carter would join her, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Oh shit. Oh holy motherfucking shit. ‘I have a new power. Savannah is fucking dying. My arm is bleeding quite a lot. There’s still a bloody manticore a few feet away from us. I don’t know if I can fly right now. Savannah never answered my question. What the fuck do I do?’ the witch fretted, eyes darting up, down - Savannah’s body, left, right, all through the woods. And what if the fucking thing woke up? He was not meant to deal with these situations. Carter was a scientist, not a warrior.

As soon as word around camp said there was a Manticore going rampant in the woods, all students were adviced -ordered, more accurately- to stay put in their tents by the chaperons. No one needed reckless acts by the more adventurous ones, so Crowsfall students were being watched with a little more scrutiny than their peers. It wasn’t that the Whitelighter didn’t trust the students, but Catherine had a tendency to fret a little too much about their safety and so she decided to go ahead and check tent by tent that everyone was where they should be.

“I’m not the empathetic type,” Christina replied. “She may be in trouble but it is not my job to take care of her. Perhaps you should go and look for her instead of speaking to me.”

“Either way. A girl is lost, it is a serious matter not to be taken so lightly” she states in a calm voice. Christina’s indifference towards the present problem could be noticed miles away, but if there was one thing she’d learnt over the years was that people couldn not be forced to care. Some could be persuaded to dissent from indifference and apathy, however. “Perhaps we could look for her together. I have heard great things about you, Miss Laurent. Maybe you are the kind of person I need by my side in this search. You could give me a hand, since my efforts to find Miss Wilkinson thus far have proved unfruitful”.

“Me too,” Charlie nodded enthusiastically as she fell in step with the whitelighter. It was obvious by the pace alone that the kitsune was anxious to be reunited with her lost items. Keeping with Miss Forbin was difficult as she just wanted to go faster and basically run there. But now wasn’t the time. However as soon as they arrived and the cardboard box was placed in her fingers, she began to sort through everything. First priority was her game controller. Within a minute she had found it. “Yes there you are, beautiful! Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re back,” she shrieked happily, putting it safely in her bag before looking through the other items she had pushed aside. “Thank you for bringing me Miss Forbin!” 

Catherine stands by the kitsune’s side, hands folded together before her, patiently waiting as the girl rummages through the box to retrieve her items. Hearing Charlotte’s excited announcement brings a smile to the woman’s lips, knowing that the unknown controller device she seemed to love so much had been finally found “I am glad to know it was here”. That was all the Whitelighter needed, knowing her efforts for helping out people were of some worth. “You are welcome, Miss Zhu. I am glad this small endeavour was met with success”.

Even the womans voice helped to calm her mind. Its what helped her throughout her entire hospital stay, thanks to her mother. Watching as her hands moved to her ankle, she couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful glow. It was an amazing power to have, not the taking some pain away, but actually being able to heal someone. “Its beautiful.” She couldn’t help but say.

A warm smile appears on her lips as she hears the girl’s words. It was indeed something beautiful and very precious to be able to help people this way. Catherine’s hands stay over the injuried area for a little while until the white glos dissipates gradually. “The pain should be gone now” she announces, looking up at Maeve “Does your ankle feel alright?”.

“I did too, admittedly,” Al shakes her head, her arms going limp at her sides. A long, low sigh is expelled into the forest air; the forest air once held an element of magic for Alana, but now, it appears to be thick and dark, haunted with the grim chances of finding the missing student. “Each minute that she isn’t found bodes badly for her health, if she is out here. спасибо, but I just wanted to ensure that the most ground possible is covered.” The fae normally might take the compliment with excitement and until her efforts were rewarded, she would not feel accomplishment. Al took a deep, grounding breath, shrugging off her sagged posture, “давай, let us keep looking together before we lose the light.”

A comforting smile settles on the woman’s lips. Even in times like this, when Catherine was worried herself, she was seeking to help out the fae, to cheer her up in a simple way through a smile “Sooner or later we will find her” Hopefully still alive... The Whitelighter did not want to think grimly about the situation, but she had to take into consideration that perhaps things would not have a happy ending. That was often the case with missing people. “You did well, Miss Antonova” Catherine reassures her, her features softening, the lines of worry missing for a moment. It was nice knowing Alana cared to find Jasmine, not all students were putting as much effort into the search as the fae was. “Of course” she agrees with a nod. “We should cover the ground south-east of the lake, I have not seen search parties in the area. Would you mind if we orb to get there? It would save us some precious time” the woman says as she extends her hand out to the girl. Orbing was often a weird experience for those who weren’t gifted with the skill, but right now it seemed necessary to put Alana through it in order to get there faster.

“That would be nice. I’d have a full closet again,” that hadn’t happened in a long time. But perhaps she could change that today. Unless everything was already out of her personal style. Multiple hairstyles had been changed and several style phases had been changed. “Right! Let’s get going! Uh, you lead the way since I don’t really know where this place is.”

“I certainly hope you get to replenish your closet, Miss Zhu” the woman adds with a kind smile. If Charlotte’s lost items had been taken to the lost-and-found the Whitelighter hoped that no fake owner had reclaimed them and that the kitsune would have her chance of retrieving them. “Of course. Follow me” she says as she begins to walk, leading the girl through the halls of the castle until they reached the administration offices. “Good morning” she greets the people inside the offices “May we take a look at the lost-and-found items please?” she asks the woman who had said box in her possession. She nods in a thankful manner when a big, cardboard box is handed over to her. “Here you go, Miss Zhu. Are your controller or any of your clothes here?”.

“That’s quite alright, Ms. Forbin. We will keep searching together,” Al sighed, not quite discouraged in her venture, but disappointed that the whitelighter’s efforts had not gained them anything. “I passed a few deer, who I asked to be on the lookout. But, I am afraid they do not see differences in people too well. They assured me if they find an injured woman, they will return to tell me.”

The Whitelighter nods along with Alana’s words. “I just thought that we would have found Miss Wilkinson by now, that it all. Or a clue of any sort”. Catherine’s inherent motherly behavior towards others was what made her worry about the missing girl the most, that need to protect her, making sure she was well... As the fae shares the plan she’d set in motion with the deers, the woman nods “That was cleverly done, Miss Antonova. I hope they find something”.

He smiled. Chivalry was part of house Crowsfall’s traits, albeit bravery and rebelliousness seemed to play a more prominent house in the average Crow’s making. “My pleasure.” Once sat, his hand reached for the napkin positioned perfectly with it’s edges making a triangle. Whoosh! A small flick of the wrist unfolded the cloth and Lorenzo placed it down onto his lap, smoothing out the creases in the white fabric. “Me too, I can tell you the steak here is a winner.” The werewolf grinned, panning through the menu. “Ms. Forbin,” He chuckled, she could just call him Lorenzo but formality was indeed ingrained into her, “– you’re my guest tonight. I won’t let you pay.”

Courtesy was one of the highest valued traits a person could possess in Catherine’s eyes, and Lorenzo’s displays of it were something that she appreciated very much. It was evident in the way a soft smile settled on her lips for a while, her appreciation showing. Just like the werewolf had done, the Whitelighter picked up the fabric napkin and in a set of graceful movements, placed on her lap. “Indeed it is, I have tried it a couple of times” the woman agrees with a nod “My absolute favorite, however, is the Soupe de Poisson  à la Rouille”. A dish that reminded her of her country, her of her time as a regular human. Her eyebrow move up as her colleague makes a particular emphasis in her name and chuckles “Mr. Valerio?”. The woman appreciates the gallant offer Lorenzo makes, smiling briefly as a result “That is a kind gesture, thank you. But are you sure?”. Catherine simply did not want to burden him with paying for an expensive dinner.