A/N: Second chapter is up! Yes, so here, we get to meet one of Morgan's roommates. Ooh- and no comments about Ajeeta from you guys who know me from Screen Scene, okay? Or those who know me in general…. Well, you get the idea.

Read on and enjoy…

Chapter Two

When I reached my dorm room, my arms were aching from the weight of my bags. I stumbled over to the larger of the two couches and dumped my bags on them, grateful that I didn't have to climb up any more flights of stairs with all my stuff.

I have yet to understand why I have so much make-up in one of my bags- I never put the stuff on unless I have someone like Mary K or Bree- or even my mom- at hand to prevent any clown incidents… I can't imagine what kind of mess I'd get into if I tried to do it myself.

Dagda's small paw swiped the back of my leg and I realised that, in the midst of marvelling at my mass of beauty problems, I had forgotten to let him out of his carrier. Apologising profusely to him, I undid the latch to the kitty carrier and opened the door. Dagda padded out and stopped to stretch, happy to finally out in the open. He was standing opposite an open door, which was revealed to be a bedroom. Dagda's eyes met the sight of the bed in the middle and bolted towards it.

Forgetting about picking up my bags to unpack, I ran after him. When I got into the bedroom, I found that it was larger than I expected. It appeared to me that, like the rest of the school, the historical appearance had been preserved, but it had some modern conveniences put in, like up to date electrical wiring. Always a necessity.

The room was split into three sections by beaded curtains, and each section contained a bed, a dresser and a trunk at the foot of each bed. I found Dagda on the middle bed- the first one he had spotted- kneading his paws into what appeared to be an article of clothing.

"Hey you!" I lifted the mischievous little feline from the bed, pried the garment from his claws and put it back on the bed. I held him at face level with both hands,

"No. No, we don't do that here." His paws kept moving in the motion he made when he was kneading, and he was purring.

"Cat causing havoc already?"

I jumped when I heard a voice in the room. I put Dagda on the floor and turned in the direction of the source, mildly surprised that I didn't sense anyone come in.

The girl was about the same height as me, with dark brown hair that settled just above her shoulders. The colour complimented her eyes of the same colour, although the style didn't flatter her face shape. Her face lacked make up and her hair held no product, but something told me it was because she chose not to wear it, not because she didn't know how to use it. She was slightly overweight and she was dressed in casual clothing: black sweatpants and a pale blue top that provided a strong contrast to her dark skin.

A pewter pendant hung from her neck, settling just below her collarbone. She wore a very warm and playful smile on her face.

I suddenly realised that I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights… especially since I hadn't answered her question yet. I stopped studying her,

"Uh… yeah. I'm really sorry." I picked up the clothing that my cat had tried to savage and held it forward, "Is this yours?"

The girl took it from my hands gently and inspected it. I realised now that it was a purple t-shirt with an image of a guitar on the front. Due to Dagda's sharp claws, several of the threads had been pulled and part of the design had been pulled off.

She looked at me, and I was relieved to see that she didn't look angry.

"Don't worry. These things happen- it's the price of being a cat person." She assured me. Her accent- although very English- was very different from the people I had encountered so far, and it sounded nothing like Hunter's, Sky's or even Daniel Niall's crisp British accents. I made a mental note to ask her where she was from.

"So… you're not upset that my cat ruined your shirt?" She laughed and shook her head,

"Of course not. I only wear that when I go to dance rehearsals anyway- it isn't anything fancy." Her mention of dance rehearsals surprised me- she didn't strike me as the dancing type,

"You're a dancer?" I asked.

"Yep- freestyle." She replied. I got the impression that I wasn't the first person to ask her that question. If she was offended, she made no show of it. Instead, she smiled, "But I'm getting ahead of myself. My name is Ajeeta Mowry. You must be Morgan Rowlands."

In a way that would have suited a 1990's sitcom, Ajeeta quickly pushed up her glasses that were sliding down her nose before holding out her hand for me to shake. I shook her hand and nodded to conform who I was.

"It's nice to meet you." I replied sincerely. I looked around, "So I take it that you're the roommate with the cat?"

"Indeed I am." She led me around to the side of her cat to reveal a medium sized cat bed with a tortoise-shell kitten sleeping inside,

"Her name is Pip. She's my baby. When I was leaving, she kept following me and crying when she was brought back inside, until my mum decided that she could live with me. We packed her up in a carrier and brought her with me. I couldn't live without her."

Ajeeta bent over and gingerly stroked Pip's head before straightening and gesturing at Dagda, who was curling up on her bed,

"What's his name?"

I scooped him up and put him on the bed that was intended for me,

"Dagda. I named him for my mother's cat. I live quite far away, so I sweet-talked my family- especially my little sister- into letting me take him with me."

Ajeeta nodded in understanding, obviously recognising from my accent that I was American, then offered to help me unpack.

I accepted and, as we did so, we got to know each other. I learned that Ajeeta was one of the few non-blood witches accepted into the school and that she felt a strong connection to the Burnhide clan. I asked her what part of the country she was from, and she answered that she was from Essex- a place she described as a little county tucked behind London. I told her about my being adopted and who my parents were (I was astonished that she knew full well of the Woodbane reputation and who Ciaran was and didn't hold it against me), although I left out a lot of the gruesome things that I had experienced since learning I was a blood witch. She knew about my experiences with helping to defeat the dark wave and she admitted to admiring me for it.

When I asked her to tell me more about the school, she told me the different rules that applied, who to stay away from, which teachers she found the best, and also of the sacred area of the school grounds. It was off limits except for esbats and Sabbat celebrations, when teachers and students alike gather to rejoice and participate in circles. She said that they kept a stone altar in the centre, and each student and faculty member had added something to it.

"There's a circle tonight welcoming the new students. All you need to bring is a tool you would like to contribute to the altar." Ajeeta explained as we finished unpacked and returned to the main room. As we sat on the couch, I frowned for a moment, racking my brain for something to give.

"What did you add?" I asked Ajeeta.

"Predictably, a crystal." She laughed, referencing her love of crystals, "I gave them a chunk of black tourmaline. When I leave Dubhlan Cuan for good, it will be given back to me. The item you choose doesn't necessarily have to be magickal, just as long as it symbolises you."

I must have had a totally baffled look on my face, because Ajeeta laughed again and got up,

"Think about it. I'll make us some herbal tea."