"Sister, d-did you s-s-see him?"
"See who, Strelitzia, dear?"
"Th-the turtledove w-with the f-feathers t-t-torn out of his ch-chest."
"Why, no. Oh, the poor guy!" Protea exclaimed in concern. "Did Human Girl see him yet?"
"I d-don't think s-so," Strelitzia replied worriedly. "We sh-should tell her. Sh-she's only a h-human, b-but I th-th-think she'll know w-what to do."
Later, the Human Girl was told of the poor wounded turtledove, who walked with a slight limp, and had a huge tuft of his blue-grey feathers torn from his chest.
She told them that there was nothing she could do, really, except maybe keep an eye out for him, protecting him from whatever had wounded him in the first place.
She also found his missing tuft of feathers under The Magical Rosemary Bush, and informed them that there was no blood on them. But she saw too that his leg was obviously badly hurt.
But this information was not enough for the sympathetic Snow Sisters. They remained anxious for the bird's safety.
They began to leave leftovers for him and his wife at the end of every meal, and didn't chase him away when he wanted to drink from the waterbowl.
But even so, the Snow Sisters wanted to do more for him.
It was Strelitzia who thought of the perfect solution to the problem. "I know! W-we can ask R-Rowena t-to do us a l-little witchcraft f-for us."
Protea thought this an excellent idea. Rowena had learned basic witchcraft and potion brewery in her youth, during her visits to her cousin, Lady Avirana Sandclaw, queen of the nomadic Sandclaw tribe. Both the Ravenclaws and the Sandclaws had dominant magic in their blood. Rowena was a fine example of a powerful born witch.
Strelitzia went to ask her.
Rowena was dozing in the hazy gold of the afternoon sun when Strelitzia made her petition.
"R-Rowena! Oh, m-my s-s-sister! It's s-so awful! T-t-t-torn! His feathers w-were t-torn, all t-torn out! Th-the poor innocent c-casualty! Oh, R-R-Rowena! I h-hope against hope I c-c-can earn y-y-your help in w-whatever way m-my f-f-few, girlish s-skills c-can! Rowena, u-use your m-magic, you m-m-must h-help us!" Strelitzia said in a stressed rush of words. Her stammer was worsened by her gushing urgency.
Rowena grunted, not quite awake. "Shush, Strella. Go away."
Strelitzia jumped up and down impatiently. "Rowena, w-w-we need y-you. We n-need witchcraft, for h-healing, n-now!"
"Go away," Rowena mumbled.
"Pretty p-please with a ch-ch-cherry on the t-top?!" Strelitzia begged, with her best I'm-so-sweet-and-adorable-you-can't-refuse-my-request look on her rosy face.
Rowena glanced at her blonde sister through heavy eyelids, looking thoroughly exasperated.
"Geez, Strel," she yawned. "Okay, I will do witchcraft for you ... What do you need?"
Strelitzia gave a small squeak of triumph. "So my natural charm and pretty pleading is effective!"
Rowena snorted. "Natural charm? You wear makeup and take drama classes. Besides, I'm doing this for the 'poor innocent casualty' you oh so desperately brought me news of 'hoping against hope you would earn my help in any way your few, girlish skills could?"
Strelitzia, looking slightly miffed, replied meekly, "Yes, Your Ladyship."
Rowena considered her. "As you do not have any skills I'd find the least bit useful, I'll do it for free. For the casualty, which I assume is one of our local bird-friends?"
"Yes," said Protea, who was standing by them. "It's Illuvia Turtledove's husband. She never told us his name. But he has a large clump of feathers torn from his chest and he walks with a slight limp."
Rowena grinned as if the problem were already solved. "Torn out feathers, you say? This will be easy-peasy. Just get me one of his feathers, while I go to my lair and boil up some goldstone and gossamer oils."
"Yes, Princess." Her sisters obeyed her command without question, only too pleased to have gotten her to help.
They had Human Girl bring them a feather from the clump she had found lying under The Magical Rosemary Bush.
The Princess went to her lair, where she muttered spells and brewed bubbling potfuls of colourful liquid.
Finally, Rowena emerged from her lair carrying a small glass bottle of thick golden oil.
"Drop the feather in." she ordered her sisters.
Strelitzia did so, and the feather dissolved instantly.
"Now what?" They asked.
"Now," said Rowena. "We simply ask our Human Girl to bring us a nice hunk of fresh bread, and then we soak the bread in this healing remedy. Goldstone gossamer oil is expensive, but it works miraculously, speeding up the feather growth. The bread must simply be put in a place where we know the turtledoves like to sit. Illuvia and her husband will spot it, eat it, and the wounded one will find his strength renewed, and his feathers growing twenty times faster and prettier!"
Her astounded sisters stared.
"Rowena, y-y-you're brilliant!" shrieked Strelitzia.
"Of course I am!" Rowena snapped. "Now, where's Human Girl?"
So Human Girl fixed a snack plate high up in a tree where the turtledove couple liked to sit and preen.
She dished the oil-soaked bread onto it, along with a few other tasty scraps.
The magic oils did their job well, and two days later their 'friend' Illuvia came to them with great news that her husband was recovering swiftly and she had found what seemed to be a magically-refilling-itself plate up in their preening parlour!
Of course, Illuvia was the kind of bird who talked constantly for one to three hours before giving a rather breathless goodbye which took at least fifteen minutes before she actually left to her hosts' extreme relief, but today she only talked for forty-five minutes with the hens, before giving an incredibly short goodbye:
"I don't know why, but I get the feeling that this has something to do with you, Princess Rowena," and Illuvia smiled very sweetly. "Thank you."
The End.
