Marlene felt a little unsettled, walking down Diagon Alley next to Efa Chittock, for reasons that had nothing to do with what had happened the last time she had been on this street. It was because of who – well, what – Efa was, and the fact that Marlene hadn’t even thought about that when she’d asked the younger witch for help. She’d only been focusing on finding an alternative source for some of the farm’s more crucial supplies while the regular one was rebuilding their shop and supply lines after the damage done by the Death Eaters. Efa had seemed the obvious choice (everybody knew about her father and his weird ideas so who better to find suppliers off the beaten path?) but now Marlene was realizing how much more obvious a choice she should have been, if only Marlene had been thinking more clearly…and that belated revelation had her brooding.
Had she overlooked the fact that Efa Chittock was inhumanly charming because she’d been distracted worrying about the horses and fretting over the attack? Or because Efa didn’t want people remembering how “charming” she really was?
Well, either way it wasn’t going to stop Marlene doing what she needed to do – or taking advantage of Efa’s help. And if the girl could put her charms to use on behalf of the horses, well, so much the better, right? No matter how uncomfortable it made Marlene…
Her distraction perhaps inspired her off-the-cuff raw honesty in response to Efa’s observation: “Are they?” Marlene said bleakly, looking around at the detritus and destruction that marred the once-cheerful storefronts and shoppes of Diagon Alley. “I suppose that’s good,” she added, despite being unable to see any evidence supporting Efa’s statement. “Rebuilding, I mean. We certainly need to.”
She sighed and tried to shake-off her gloomy mood. “Right – yes. Good idea. Well, the most crucial thing right now is securing more puffskein jelly. We brush it onto their wings,” Marlene explained, meaning the horses of course. “Helps with pruning and glossiness, but the most important part is that it repels rose-wing mites and kills their eggs. Spring is when we go through the bulk of that.” She wrinkled her nose. “The cool, wet weather is a perfect breeding environment for the bloody little pests, and the damage they do to feathers when left untreated…ugh. Let’s just say it’s something we want to avoid.”
Puffskeins were common creatures, of course, but they were most often treated as pets and to most wix, only their hair – which could be harvested easily without harming the creatures, of course – had any useful or commercial value. This made it difficult to find suppliers who could provide jellied puffskein – especially in the amounts that the McKinnons needed to care for their steeds. There just wasn’t much demand – which conversely meant rather limited supply. But Marlene had witnessed the results of an unchecked rose-wing mite infestation before, and it wasn’t something she was eager to repeat. Especially not among her horses!
Marlene clearly sounded off, by the way she responded to Efa's comment with so much distraction, but the half-veela wouldn't hold it against her. It'd been rough lately, for everyone. Hours blending into days, days blending into weeks, war had a horrifying way of warping one's perception of time and their surroundings. Even her father, who wasn't directly involved in this mess -- she could tell he was starting to lose himself to the fear, too. She wasn't feeling quite herself either, the usual skip to her step gone, the fire within her chest taking a bit of time to start up, extinguished down to a pathetic, meek little flame.
Her companion was soon picking the conversation back up, though, so she couldn't complain much. She nodded along, as if any of this horse-stuff made any sense to her. She hadn't been one to visit the McKinnon stables much, and she never even imagined their care took all this work; puffskein jelly was not easy to come by, let alone to buy in bulk, it'd certainly not be cheap.
"Right, I think the guy I mentioned will have it," she reassured, leading the way down to the hidden store in a forgotten nook of the alley. And then, for lack of anything better to say, "That does sound like a terrible time for the poor horses."
When they reached the shop, a cramped little store that looked like the definition of visual pollution, Efa pushed in first and was greeted by the man behind the counter. He had pitch black hair despite the age clearly shown by the wrinkles on his features, and his mouth was twisted in a permanent frown even if he seemed pleasantly surprised by the familiar visit.
"Hey, Fran," Efa signed, speaking along for Marlene's sake. Her sign language was rough, learned solely for the purpose of making transactions easier in this shop, so she didn't have much practice, but it was something. "This is my friend, Marlene. Marlene, this is Francesco." And then, turning to Marlene, "he reads lips, if you don't know sign."
Francesco scowled, but nodded in greeting. "Pleasure," he signed back. "What do you want?"
"He's asking what we want," Efa spoke, then signed along again. "Do you have... puffskein jelly?"
