Light crept in through the curtains in Rowanne's room.

Everything hurt.

Rowe just wanted to sleep more, but between the daylight practically burning her eyelids out and those infernal instincts screaming at her to get up and get ready for work, that wasn’t happening. She put up a valiant effort to fight it by pulling her pillow up to shield her face, but the damned light always got in, and she knew it was a losing battle. So with a groan and several extremely sore sounding cracks, she dragged herself from the warm sanctuary of her bed and got on with her day.

The late-December air very quickly woke her up properly, and in a most unsubtle manner told her she hadn’t sufficiently banked the fire last night. She dashed to the coal house, trying to ignore the freezing cold tiles, and started the process of getting the stove lit. Once the fire was up and burning properly, Mary stirred and joined her as she started work on breakfast. She’d decided to treat them both the night before, so there was bacon in, and some bread for the drippings afterwards, both of which her little sister devoured happily.

Rowe passed her a hapenny. “Here kidder, gan get dressed and go grab yourself some ket* or summat from the post office after breakfast.” She couldn’t help smiling when Mary’s face lit up; she knew the bairn would come home with this week's issue of butterfly. She always did. She didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but she loved her comics.

Today, Rowanne could take it easy at least; there was no school, and she had time off work. Though relaxing too much wasn’t on the cards. She had a different plan for the day. One way or another she was going to get answers, and since Mary had a comic she’d behave herself on the train. Well that was the plan at least.

“If ya fancy it, I was thinking since I had a bit of business down by the whispering cave, do you fancy a picnic on the beach?” she asked, suppressing a chuckle at her sister trying to be all mature and hide her enthusiasm.

“Sounds good to me since we’re ganna have ta gan anyway,” Mary replied. Then quick as a flash she was off to get changed, it barely took five minutes till she was back and making a bolt for the door, but Rowe hauled her back.

“Not so fast sis,” she said, checking up on her condition. “Ye could graa chetties ahent those lugs, now gan get washed properly.” Mary obeyed, albeit with a halfhearted complaint under her breath, then as soon as she was cleared to leave she was off out of the door to pick up her comic. Hopefully before Sam Wilkinson picked it up and she had to endure the train trip without.

While her sister was out, Rowanne tried to figure out how you approach the witches' cottage and ask, “say, do you have any idea why I suddenly have a tail?” Because it did not sound like the kind of question you just asked outright. At least not if you didn’t want a mob showing up on your doorstep the next day. She needed a pretense, and eventually settled on going to buy some herbs that didn’t grow round here. Scurvy grass should do.

While she planned, she packed their bait boxes, Nothing fancy of course - just some sandwiches and a flask of tea - but it’d do. By the time she was done packing, Mary was back and already had her nose in this week's comic. As soon as they were ready they headed to the platform, and boarded the train to the harbour. The little narrow gauge locomotives always amused her, looking more like a bairns toy than a marvel of modern engineering. But they definitely pulled their weight.

Stevenson had of course proposed much larger engines too, but with the cost of iron these days until duralumin** came onto the scene, those had been restricted to the big cities. The villages were more than happy with the little tankies, and never saw the point in going with bigger more expensive options.

Soon enough the little number 5 engine pulled out heading towards The harbour, which was a hell of a trip, then a walk along the beach to their destination. But at least they were on their way now.

Mary soon got distracted from the comic by the scenery whizzing past, and dragged her into a game of I spy. Rowe didn’t mind, so long as it kept her occupied. She leaned slightly out of the seated tub. Further up the train was of course a fancy looking car, with a roof and all, but tickets for the posh car were expensive, and her and Mary preferred to keep a bit aside for a rainy day. After her dad had passed they hadn’t had a choice in that, and now it wasn’t a habit she was in a hurry to lose.

For now though she passed out sandwiches as they made their way to the coast. If anybody would have answers for her on this, it would be the witch.