I see a red door and I want it painted black – storm

If anything, she hadn't expected the first voice to greet her to be one from a dog. A dog? Her brow furrowed, before glancing towards the huge black dog. Huh, an Irish wolfhound? At least that was what she suspected; a dog breed she knew well, at least. It was bigger than any dog she had ever seen, but these days, she wasn't surprised. New York was a strange city, and there had been stranger things than a guard dog at a book store.

The other woman who was carrying a few things in must be the one Hywel knew of. She was still not a hundred percent sure of the name, but it didn't matter. Names didn't really matter to Rhiannon anyway; humans were humans and rather unimportant once outside of the moment.

"Mm, my brother sent me to...what did he say, look for a book here? He gave me the address and said whoever was here would know which book I'm looking for. He didn't leave a name for the book...but I suppose if it's in your system, it'd be reserved under the name 'Hywel?' perhaps?" Her voice was soft, with the sing-song tones of a slight Irish accent flickering in and out. She wasn't sure if he had given out her name, but if they had chatted long enough, this woman would certainly know his.

She had to admit, part of her was curious to how they had met, and perhaps curious to how they knew of each other. If she was a regular customer at his bar or something, Joey would've pointed it out, but this face was completely foreign to her. Not to mention, she kept a dog in the shop, and knowing her brother, he hated dogs. Sort of terrified of them, really, even if he would never admit it. A lot of things were curious about this situation, and if curiosity killed the cat, certainly satisfaction of learning more would bring it back.

Ah, so Hywel did mention her. It saved her from having to introduce herself at least. Hunter Dumont. It wasn't an unusual name by any means but it was the first time she had met anyone named Hunter. She gave the woman a polite smile. "I am," she spoke, as the white kitten popped his head from under her coat. Rhiannon hadn't planned on bringing the kitten but the young one seemed rather insistent today, so she had given in.

Rhiannon gave the cat a look. "Play nice," she reached a hand for the cat, and if anyone had looked closely, one could almost swear that the cat had rolled his eyes. She glanced at the dog once more; if she didn't know any better, she'd suspect that the other was a witch too. The dog reminded her far too much of a familiar, or something else. If anything, it seemed as if the woman didn't know what she was getting herself into.

Right, the books. She immediately moved towards the dusty tomes, holding it delicately in her hand, as if something precious. From just a glance, she could tell it was a grimoire. Probably some other witch or warlock had passed away and left it behind, or at least she'd assume so. They weren't very descript from the covers, a simple leather-bound cover. She was already looking through it, flipping through the diagrams. The language was Cyrillic in origin, she'd assume, though she wasn't 100% sure. Probably passed down a few generations.

She was half-listening to Hunter. "Oh, I get what you mean," she spoke absentmindedly, "some books just speak to the soul." As the other woman asked her about her brother, she glanced up, skeptical eyes looking over the other woman. She could hear it in her voice, the way it had gone a tad softer, the smile on her face–Rhiannon smirked. Oh, if only Hywel was here. The other man was always so oblivious, and she was always the one with her nose too deep into other people's business.

Well, it wasn't her place to point out that her brother didn't exactly swing her way. It was still amusing though. "He's doing fine; I heard Sylvan had a bit of an adventure last night too. My idiot brother's taking a day off today I'm afraid. I heard he was checking out some new supplier for the bar; he should be there tomorrow though, if you want to find him." Of course, she'd be there too, and there was nothing Rhiannon enjoyed more than eating her metaphorical popcorn.

She continued flipping through, before stopping, her hand holding a page halfway, her eyes hovering over a symbol drawn in the margins.

Circle, square, triangle, except the shapes were in a different order. Alchemic in origin, but...not. She had seen this symbol before, years ago, carved into a sigil somewhere. It was unique, an identifier of a fellow Alchemist she had heard of, and huh. So he was still alive then.

"When did you get this book?" she spoke, brow furrowed, her eyes meeting Hunter's, "it must've been a family heirloom or something, no? How much did it cost you?"

Sylvan gave the dog an innocent meow, big blue eyes looking up at the creature, though his tail lashed in the mischievous way it did when he was planning something. The cat was a clever one, after all, despite its young age. Today, it seemed more curious with exploring the book store, climbing onto the dog's back before letting out a purr, tumbling off the creature as if he was a hill to climb just the same, already heading towards the bookshelves in the back. It didn't seem to be as obsessed with hunting down mice as it was with looking over the books. Sylvan prided himself in being the sophisticated type, despite how completely contrary his actions were.

The cat simply followed Mcrorie, purring in amusement as he watched the dog snap up a rodent. Hm, maybe he was getting a bit hungry, and well, if Rhiannon wasn't looking, he might as well try his hand at hunting. He was still young, but hunting was in a cat's instincts really. The scuffling of feet on wood could be heard, and Sylvan's ears twitched, crouching down and wiggling into the shelves, trying to figure out how to get the creature out.

Rhiannon however, was rather surprised. Free? Someone left them behind? Huh, wasn't that interesting. Someone certainly was getting tired of his craft no? She was almost certain it was that strange warlock she had met once, a couple decades back in a dive bar getting wasted on shots of whisky. What was his name again? Charlie? Carl? Something like that at least; if he was still alive, that was. Knowing the man, he was...well, not the steadiest folk, even if he did have some talent in his field.

"Mm, that's unusual," she replied off-handedly, "these are really old...some would say they're probably kind of valuable." She turned to Hunter with a raised brow. "Are you sure you're just willing to give them away? This is a bookstore, no? Shouldn't I at least pay for these?"

It was that moment when Sylvan saw the quick dash of a tail, immediately breaking off into a chase, a hiss leaving his mouth.

Rhiannon glanced up. Dammit, what was that cat getting up to again? She sighed; that blasted creature certainly loved making her life just a little more exciting, didn't he?

It was rare for anyone to give things for free, especially in this city. People could be nice, but Rhiannon had learned throughout her years that nothing ever was truly free. Even if the woman didn't believe of their worth, she couldn't help but wonder what the ulterior motive was. Did she expect something from her? Or was this going to be something where she'd have to help in return, somewhere in the distant future?

"Are you sure?" she was tentative, "and what do you mean giving them to just anybody? Is this in return for some favor in the future? Or some other trade I can provide?" She didn't know how much she knew of her and Hywel, and maybe the other man wasn't the suspicious type, but she certainly was.

"No one gives these sort of things for free to someone they've just met and like you said, you're not just giving them to anybody, no? So why are you giving them to me?"

Sylvan was scuttering about next to the huge wolfhound, when a creature shot out from the shelves, and immediately, the kitten began to chase whatever it was when the large bark made him jump.

Rhiannon immediately turned to the sound, swearing something under her breath at the loud roar that came from the dog. "Jesus Christ what the hell was that?"

It was clear that despite them both being from small towns, they had very different upbringings. Rhiannon was no stranger to living away from the city; despite the memory being hazy. Perhaps in the modern day, people were kind, but in a famine, there wasn't enough kindness passing around. Even if they had been friends with their neighbors, everyone had to fend for their own. It was why her mother had married her father, how she had come into the world.

She knew everyone had motives somewhere. Some were just less obvious than others. Swallowing her own retort, her nose flared for a moment at the naivete of the other woman. Rhiannon didn't trust people; that was a given, and this woman and all of her 'pay it forward' made Rhiannon trust her even less. It was easier to know one's motive in the first place without all this fluff and fodder.

The other woman's comment about men made her eyes flash in amusement. Poor choice in men indeed; she could tell Hunter had a thing for her brother, and she had been wondering if there was some type of weird barter card–books in exchange for some inside knowledge or something-in this exchange, but she hadn't brought it up.

The loud bang shook her out of her thoughts, and she immediately moved towards a more defensive position, eyes sharp, taking small steps towards the source of the noise. "Sylvan?" she called out, "you there?"

The cat had been thrown back at the strange incident, completely dazed from what had happened. What had happened? He wasn't sure, simply twitching his ears and looking up to see...wait, a human? What? Was that...the dog from earlier? He had never seen anything like that, and suddenly, he was turning tail, running back to Rhiannon, where things were safer and more predictable.

Rhiannon really didn't think anything would surprise her anymore but here she was, staring at a naked man who was once the dog? The dog who was watching the shop? Wait, did this woman even know...?

She turned to Hunter with an almost fierce expression, before taking a step back from both of them. "What are you?" she demanded, glancing to her before turning to the man standing, looking confused. Was she a witch? Perhaps the type to trap others by luring them in, with books promising glory and knowledge?

The woman was actually freaking out. Her voice was getting louder, and the air felt tense. Whatever she was, she had no idea what was going on. Rhiannon would assume she wasn't like them, at all, but she knew better to assume. The city had secrets one wouldn't believe, and she wouldn't set her mind so soon, especially for a situation like this.

Rhiannon stared at the man, brow furrowing. So that was why Hywel had mentioned feeling strange around the girl's dog. Now she knew why. She assumed he was a shifter at first, but a cu sidhe? She had heard stories of them when she was young, back in Ireland. Her mother used to tell them of the fae and the creatures of the forest, and the hound of death was one of them.

The next thing she knew, the other woman was passed out on the ground. Rhiannon simply stared for a moment, before turning to the creature. "Where the hell did you come from?" she spoke, her voice cold like ice, "thought your kind only lived up in the moors of Ireland with the other Druids. You're in the wrong continent, mutt."

She didn't trust fae; it was foolish to do so, trickery was in their blood, after all.