AN: Here's the final chapter that will be posted on this one. If you want the rest (as I'm sure most of you probably do, seeing as this doesn't have any sort of story conclusion), you'll have to shift over to 'Feathers (Reformatted).

Feather Eighty

Wings were a creature inheritance. A rare one, one that hadn't happened in 'a very long time'. They were a blessing, doubly so as air was apparently Siobhan's elemental affinity, or so Alannah said. This blessing was also supposedly from Magic – capital 'M' and all – and an indication that Ireland and Norway had been right to send her assistance.

"I can't imagine how much fumbling you would be doing without us," Alannah had sighed out.

"I doubt I would be fumbling overmuch," Siobhan refuted, "I would have simply sought assistance here. I already have Walter, so that covers most of what Asbjørn has been able to teach me without straining my magic. I'm also sure that, if I had asked, Kuche would have seen about setting aside time to help me train."

Actually, come to think of it, why hadn't she asked Kuche for additional help? Too distracted by the Twins' deaths, too distracted by her own little problems, she mused, a frown ticking down her lips. The young witch made a mental note to ask if the Dog would be willing to help in any way.

"Kuche?" Alannah asked, spine straightening and pale eyes narrowing, "Who's that? Another mundane?"

Siobhan shook her head. "He's not a mundane," she stated, purposefully not elaborating.

"He could be dangerous," Asbjørn warned. Sweet of him, but. . .

"Of course he's dangerous," Siobhan said with a small huff, "But he's not dangerous to me." Not currently, anyway. The Guidelines were easy to follow for her, after all, and the Dogs were only sent after people who broke the Guidelines or tormented mundanes. She dare not explain that to her mentors, though, fully aware that anyone knowing of her connection to an actual Dog could seek to exploit said connection.

"Siobhan – " Alannah started, only to be cut off by the younger witch.

"No, Alannah. Kuche is a friend. Trust me."

The ginger let the subject go, even as the troubled look on her features grew.

At least Asbjørn hadn't argued.