Anna isn't sure how long she's been up in the tree, but it feels like hours. The dog still prowls at the base, no longer bouncing like a jack-in-the-box, but growling and yapping here and there to remind her that she isn't off the hook yet. Despite her exhaustion, she doesn't dare close her eyes or take a rest. The branch is not that thick, and without her claws hooked deep into the bark, she doesn't want to take her chances against the battering wind.

Desperate, weary, and beginning to feel downright sorry for herself, she sends another plea to Hans, as loud as she can to make it through the rain. I'm sorry, she tells him, I'm sorry for arguing with you. I know I should have been back by now, but I'm really about to become dog food here!

Not a single jogger or bike rider has passed since the torrent began, and she doesn't blame them. The ground is thick and muddy, and the rain is falling sideways now, permeating the branches and splattering her, leaving itchy spots of wet fur. As if things couldn't get any worse, she feels the barometric pressure dropping - great! Anna considers herself a pretty brave person/cat, all things considered, but she has always hated storms. It was one of the first signs she had the gift, according to her mother. Along with her obsession with fish, and tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and run around the house for no reason.

'incommmmiiiiiiiiing!' A voice approaches from the distance, growing louder and closer, until a mess of black feathers tumbles onto the branch above her.

'Phineas?'

'The one and only!' The black crow gives himself a shake, trying to smooth his ruffled feathers, wobbling a bit in the wind.

'Boy, am I glad to see a friendly face.' It's a figure of speech, but Phineas is a friendly looking crow, if such a thing is possible. And a friendly looking human, too, if his Instagram page is anything to go by. He seems to have a lot of spare time for parties and barbecues. It gives Anna hope that her life will become more balanced, too, once she builds her skillset.

'Heard you calling and I came running! Or… flying. Technically tumbling through the treacherous sky risking life and wing.'

Anna giggles and looks up at him with a glimmer of hope in her heart. 'Wait, you heard me? So you were at the workshop then?'

'I might have been.'

Anna cocks her head, wishing she had eyebrow muscles to denote her scepticism. Phineas only comes to town for the same reason any of Hans' brothers familiars do: to spy on each other, steal recipes and figure out who is making the most money.

'What was he doing? Was he, by any chance, getting ready to come and get me? Maybe putting his shoes on...'

Phineas rolls his little black and white eyes, 'Lying in bed, eating donuts. Scrolling on his phone, pictures of girls mostly. Looked like some kind of dating app. At one point he took a picture of his, well, you know-'

'Oh, gross!' Anna says, irritated but sadly not surprised, 'I can't believe it! I'm stuck out here and he's swiping Tinder and eating donuts?'

'Sorry, bud.' He shakes his head, 'But hey, while we're on the topic, you wouldn't happen to know his last quarterly profit margin would you?'

Anna laughs. 'I don't even know what a profit margin is. Does Klaus share that kind of stuff with you?'

'Well yeah, of course he does! I do all the bookkeeping. Do my own pay with a bonus on the side - don't tell the tax department! I was an accountant before I took this gig, you know? Ugh, ten years of my life I'll never get back! I'm telling ya, kiddo, the magical path is the best path. Don't let anyone make you doubt it-' He stops as a fat raindrop hits him in the eye, as if to remind him of the situation at hand. Uncertainty creeps into his voice, 'I'm sure Hans will be here before the storm rolls in. I'd best be off though, or Klaus will start watching The Bachelor without me! It's disgraceful, the way they treat us sometimes.'

Anna can never quite tell if Phineas is just being sarcastic when he says things like that, or if there's a double entendre there, but she laughs along with him anyway, disappointed that she will be alone again so soon. 'Do you think you could maybe distract old Rover down there, on your way?'

They both look down at the silly beast with its big black nose and spiky wet fur. Its hunting strategy stands to be improved, but she does have to admire its persistence.

'I'll see what I can do, comrade.'

He flies down, beating his wings determinedly against the wind, pinching and pecking the dog. It works, and he manages to lure the dog away, skillfully avoiding its snapping jaws. Anna breathes a sigh of relief. Familiars do try to look out for each other, where they can, but still. She'll have to take him out for drinks some time to thank him. Just another addition to her ever-growing list of tasks to squeeze into her ever-shrinking human time.

The rain washes away all scent trails, and makes it difficult to sense movement, but she knows this is her window of opportunity to try and leave the tree. She does the best she can, inching toward the trunk and hooking her front claws in securely. She tries moving her left leg into position but it flexes and scratches awkwardly, unable to find that right spot where her weight is centred and secure. It just feels so unnatural. In her defence - and in defence of all cats, really - going back down a tree really, truly is a lot more complicated than it seems. But she has to try and at least take the first step. After all, this is real life, not some fairy tale. No knight in shining armour is coming to save her, not that she wants one. That's super un-feminist. And besides, she's a strong, independent woman, currently in the form of a four-kilogram ginger cat, but still. The point is, she doesn't need no-

Of course, the damn dog is back.

Well, patience is a virtue. She climbs back onto the branch and sighs, a little jealous of bird-familiars who can just fly away from situations like this.

Anna doesn't even hear the stranger approach from the thick of the woods, through the noise of the rain, walking on such light footsteps. Bare feet sloshing through the mud. Pale legs poking out of an oversized, scuffed, navy blue raincoat. Face hidden underneath a hood.

Knowing her luck, it'll be some drunk hobo, or worse, a nasty school kid here to torment even further. Anyone out in this weather is probably either crazy, or crazy-bored. Anna shrinks into herself, ready to hiss.

'Oh dear.' The stranger's voice is a gentle contralto, barely audible under the sound of rain and wind. She looks at the dog, then up to Anna, lowering her hood to reveal soft blue eyes. Delicate features and a mop of platinum hair. If she's a hobo, she's certainly the prettiest one Anna's ever seen. The rain seems to sparkle iridescent as it bounces off her. 'Do you need a hand?'

'A hand, a foot, I'll take whatever I can get!' Anna says.

The woman giggles politely, with a hand over her mouth, and turns to the dog, holding her other hand above its face. The silly creature looks up at her elegantly swaying fingers, mesmerised as though she's holding a steak. 'Off you go, now,' she says, kind but firm, 'time to go home.'

Without looking back, the dog turns and walks calmly into the rain, tail wagging softly behind it. Anna is feeling just as mesmerised as the dog was. She's seen Hans send various bugs and mice out the door. Even the occasional bird, with enough concentration and a little bit of shouting. But never that kind of flawless mastery over such a large, intelligent, willful creature, and never with such ease. She's probably used up loads of her mana, and Anna feels a little guilty. Will she demand payment from Hans?

It doesn't stop there. With a groaning sound like a ship, a couple of branches shift from their bases, lowering themselves down to the ground. The woman steps onto them, balancing effortlessly, and allows herself to be lifted by the boughs until she's several metres high and the two of them are face to face.

'Hi.'

It takes a moment for Anna to shake herself into her senses and answer the gorgeous lady with those stunning pale eyes. They're really like two shimmering moons and- focus, Anna! 'Hi- Hi me?'

'Well, I wasn't talking to the tree.' The woman smiles. There's a kind of tranquillity about her, though her face is wet from rain. 'Not that they don't have something to say from time to time.'

'Right, right, of course.' Anna says, smoothing back the fur on her face. What has come over her? 'Sorry, I'm just so used to…'

Not being heard. Anna can't say that, though. It would come dangerously close to badmouthing her boss - not a good look.

'Well, you know, I don't exactly get a lot of two-way conversation when I'm like this. Thanks for dealing with my, uh, canine problem. You could say it's been a bit of a… rough day.'

Oh, she actually laughs at the terrible dog pun. Who is this witch?

'I'm Elsa.'

Well, that answers that question. Sort of. Not really. Anna's never heard that name before, and the magical community around these parts is quite small. Everyone pretty much knows everyone.

'Anna.' She replies, leaning forward and having a sniff at Elsa's pale, wet face. Her magic smells cool and clean, like a waterfall. Not the burning, metallic scent of Hans' magic. 'Are you new in town? I haven't seen you around.'

'Kind of. I've been here a little while but… I keep to myself.'

Huh. Well that seems perfectly reasonable. Just a little bit mysterious. A mysterious, beautiful witch emerging from the woods. Anna's curiosity is piqued, to say the least.

'Would you like to get out of the rain?' Elsa unzips the top of her raincoat and unbuttons the top of her coat - a clear invitation.

It seems a little intimate, having just met, but her options are quite limited and the pastel patterned knitted jumper beneath Elsa's coat looks dry and warm and just irresistibly cosy. An all around a nicer place to be than this wet tree. Much more appealing than walking all the way home in the pouring, freezing rain. So, with her signature impulsivity that turns her mother's hair grey, she jumps right in and curls up against the bosom of this beautiful stranger.