Midnight takes the day off and around an hour before the meeting, casts her ritual. A simple spell, but it required the sacrifice of time and effort to Mother Earth nevertheless. As she finishes, Arkhermiens lights up like a Yule tree with the characteristic orange-blue of transmutational magic and the gravelly-platinum of temporal magic. She gives the bow a single draw in quicktime, and the string stretches appropriately, rather than snapping like a traditional bow would when drawn at such speed.

Satisfied, she carries the bow over her shoulder today as she makes her way to The Smoking Pit. Maybe if the meeting went well she would have an actual chat with locals about wild game in the area, get some information about what lurks in the woods. That was a huge benefit from the last thirty years compared to the prior thousand or two - way fewer people treated her going hunting as something too bizarre. The past few decades after a warming up period, she could just talk to hunters about what they found in the woods, listen to the “Ain’t seen nothin’ like it” stories. And her personal bow would certainly draw eyes. The weapon was once a simple bow made from the heartwood of a single tree, but over the millennia grew to be a composite of wood, bone, and horn. Only a few splinters of the original remained.

She gives the room a once over look before heading into the jackalope room.