03-02-2022, 06:04 PM
Peggy Powler could smell the newness the Meeting Hall straight away, the aroma of pine and cedar told of recent work
that made the little guest tucking her hat into her satchel think that the building had only been constructed very recently.
However, Peggy would later discover she was wrong.
"Welcome Miss Powler..." a female's voice said from the long bench at the rear of the room, "...we hope your journey here
wasn't too tiring". Eight people sat on straight-backed wooden chairs -where Peggy would consider was, the wrong side of
an elongated table and all of the dark-red robed people had their backs facing her.
Two plain lanterns sat on the well-polished surface, but only one of them was lit, but the vigilant spellbinder did notice
other objects on the table she wasn't currently able to distinguish. "Please excuse the clandestine nature of this assembly,
but the night can be a worrisome time here at Pook Hill" the unknown woman added without emotion.
Placing a bare foot on the well-swept floorboards, Peggy surveyed the one-roomed single-storey building that smelled
like a carpenter's shop. The dark-oak beams above the shadowed group had odd-looking items dangling from hooks
and it took a moment in the dim light before the scrutinising sorceress realised were metal charms of an esoteric nature.
Bark-free hoops of willow turned slowly in the quiet gloom, bound with strips of leather, the rings held filament-wrapped
clumps of pine needles and gilded effigies of the sacred-deity Pook.
Peering up at the draft-moving display, Peggy recalled the first time she'd ever had seen such an image. Somewhere on
the eremite-folk's property was a larger stone idol of Pook and though she'd remained reverent during the viewing, she
couldn't help but notice the resemblance between Pook and Herne the Hunter.
The standard representation of Herne was a supernatural wilderness-being with antlers, a masculine bearded face, a torso
of a well-muscled human and cloven-hooves instead of feet. Pook also sported antlers and a long unkempt mane indicated
a divine god that lived with nature, but the furry shoulders and legs took his legend more into a creature-of-the-wilds position.
The muzzle-like features of Pook's face also added to the bestial notion, but the creators of the models always made sure
the deity's eyes were set with a humanistic, enlightened quality.
Four close-shuttered windows were on the two longer walls and apart from a simply-made footstool near to the far-end of
the right-hand side wall, no other furniture decorated the room -excluding the eight chairs and the long bench. The far wall
was blank. No framed painting of their demigod or an alter for prayers, just blank unpainted wooden facades that said a lot
about the impassive nature of the community.
"Whey, it's been awhile since Ah' last visited..." Peggy answered into the echoing chamber with a tone to try and lighten the
mood, "...Is Alaric Hobson still about?" A hooded figure sitting at the far-end of the trestle bench lifted one of the items from
the table and the curious conjurer recognised it immediately.
It was a polished metal tray that doubled as a mirror and squinting to see better in the single source of illumination, the little
Witch saw Brenna Hobson gazing back at her. "Alaric was taken last winter and the cause of this loss is what we reluctantly
wish to speak to you about" Brenna answered coldly.
...................................................
She felt stupid standing on the hassock, but since she had been invited to look through the knot-hole of the wooden wall by
the woman she'd first met many summers ago, Peggy placed her face to the pungent surface of the wall and peered out into
the darkness. There wasn't anything to see.
"It's night?" the balancing Bewitcher suggested and gave Brenna fake innocent look as she beheld the hunched shrouded
group watching her through their respective reflectors. The churlish woman in the red tunic that Peggy had now assumed
was the mouth-piece for the Pooker committee didn't outwardly show her exasperation, but Brenna somehow managed
to transmit her pique.
"Keep looking Miss Powler, if you would be so kind" came the repeated request and so once again, the little Witch in the
old poncho sighed to herself as she peeked through the naturally-formed orifice.
There... it wasn't much and it moved quite quickly in the blackness. There were obstacles that stopped the glow from being
a constant view of lustre and after a moment, Peggy guessed the effect was due to tree branches. It was a light -possibly a
lantern and seemed high off the ground. Allowing her limited inventiveness to explore the possibilities of the source for the
luminosity, Peggy judged that she was looking at a light in a clump of trees from a distance that would infer the carrier of
such a torch to be either conveying said vivid item on his head or that the bearer was...
"How big...?" the lone figure asked from her position at the Meeting hall wall "...how tall would you say it is?" Peggy astutely
appended without looking at the congregation. Ignoring the irony, she continued to observe the light moving away with the
branches blocking out most of the lambency now.
Brenna stood up and walked close to where Peggy was mounted on the formal footrest and looked at her shiny metal tray.
"He's big enough to smash into this building and take Alaric without a second-glance" the reflection of the stern sister of
the Pookers said menacingly. Peggy deliberately used Brenna's shoulder to lean on as she climbed down from the stool,
it was an act of invasive casualness that the wily Seer knew would effect Brenna's composure and hopefully, the others
who were watching.
"Aye, he's a big 'un, and yer' only see him at night?" Peggy asked as she withdrew her at from her bag and saw Brenna's
reflection nod an affirmative. "Good, that means Ah' can look fur' the bugger durin' the day, then" she added and recalling
the paltry input from the Red-Smocks last time she was here, walked out of the stark interior of the Pooker Meeting Hall.
that made the little guest tucking her hat into her satchel think that the building had only been constructed very recently.
However, Peggy would later discover she was wrong.
"Welcome Miss Powler..." a female's voice said from the long bench at the rear of the room, "...we hope your journey here
wasn't too tiring". Eight people sat on straight-backed wooden chairs -where Peggy would consider was, the wrong side of
an elongated table and all of the dark-red robed people had their backs facing her.
Two plain lanterns sat on the well-polished surface, but only one of them was lit, but the vigilant spellbinder did notice
other objects on the table she wasn't currently able to distinguish. "Please excuse the clandestine nature of this assembly,
but the night can be a worrisome time here at Pook Hill" the unknown woman added without emotion.
Placing a bare foot on the well-swept floorboards, Peggy surveyed the one-roomed single-storey building that smelled
like a carpenter's shop. The dark-oak beams above the shadowed group had odd-looking items dangling from hooks
and it took a moment in the dim light before the scrutinising sorceress realised were metal charms of an esoteric nature.
Bark-free hoops of willow turned slowly in the quiet gloom, bound with strips of leather, the rings held filament-wrapped
clumps of pine needles and gilded effigies of the sacred-deity Pook.
Peering up at the draft-moving display, Peggy recalled the first time she'd ever had seen such an image. Somewhere on
the eremite-folk's property was a larger stone idol of Pook and though she'd remained reverent during the viewing, she
couldn't help but notice the resemblance between Pook and Herne the Hunter.
The standard representation of Herne was a supernatural wilderness-being with antlers, a masculine bearded face, a torso
of a well-muscled human and cloven-hooves instead of feet. Pook also sported antlers and a long unkempt mane indicated
a divine god that lived with nature, but the furry shoulders and legs took his legend more into a creature-of-the-wilds position.
The muzzle-like features of Pook's face also added to the bestial notion, but the creators of the models always made sure
the deity's eyes were set with a humanistic, enlightened quality.
Four close-shuttered windows were on the two longer walls and apart from a simply-made footstool near to the far-end of
the right-hand side wall, no other furniture decorated the room -excluding the eight chairs and the long bench. The far wall
was blank. No framed painting of their demigod or an alter for prayers, just blank unpainted wooden facades that said a lot
about the impassive nature of the community.
"Whey, it's been awhile since Ah' last visited..." Peggy answered into the echoing chamber with a tone to try and lighten the
mood, "...Is Alaric Hobson still about?" A hooded figure sitting at the far-end of the trestle bench lifted one of the items from
the table and the curious conjurer recognised it immediately.
It was a polished metal tray that doubled as a mirror and squinting to see better in the single source of illumination, the little
Witch saw Brenna Hobson gazing back at her. "Alaric was taken last winter and the cause of this loss is what we reluctantly
wish to speak to you about" Brenna answered coldly.
...................................................
She felt stupid standing on the hassock, but since she had been invited to look through the knot-hole of the wooden wall by
the woman she'd first met many summers ago, Peggy placed her face to the pungent surface of the wall and peered out into
the darkness. There wasn't anything to see.
"It's night?" the balancing Bewitcher suggested and gave Brenna fake innocent look as she beheld the hunched shrouded
group watching her through their respective reflectors. The churlish woman in the red tunic that Peggy had now assumed
was the mouth-piece for the Pooker committee didn't outwardly show her exasperation, but Brenna somehow managed
to transmit her pique.
"Keep looking Miss Powler, if you would be so kind" came the repeated request and so once again, the little Witch in the
old poncho sighed to herself as she peeked through the naturally-formed orifice.
There... it wasn't much and it moved quite quickly in the blackness. There were obstacles that stopped the glow from being
a constant view of lustre and after a moment, Peggy guessed the effect was due to tree branches. It was a light -possibly a
lantern and seemed high off the ground. Allowing her limited inventiveness to explore the possibilities of the source for the
luminosity, Peggy judged that she was looking at a light in a clump of trees from a distance that would infer the carrier of
such a torch to be either conveying said vivid item on his head or that the bearer was...
"How big...?" the lone figure asked from her position at the Meeting hall wall "...how tall would you say it is?" Peggy astutely
appended without looking at the congregation. Ignoring the irony, she continued to observe the light moving away with the
branches blocking out most of the lambency now.
Brenna stood up and walked close to where Peggy was mounted on the formal footrest and looked at her shiny metal tray.
"He's big enough to smash into this building and take Alaric without a second-glance" the reflection of the stern sister of
the Pookers said menacingly. Peggy deliberately used Brenna's shoulder to lean on as she climbed down from the stool,
it was an act of invasive casualness that the wily Seer knew would effect Brenna's composure and hopefully, the others
who were watching.
"Aye, he's a big 'un, and yer' only see him at night?" Peggy asked as she withdrew her at from her bag and saw Brenna's
reflection nod an affirmative. "Good, that means Ah' can look fur' the bugger durin' the day, then" she added and recalling
the paltry input from the Red-Smocks last time she was here, walked out of the stark interior of the Pooker Meeting Hall.
Edith Head Gives Good Wardrobe.