With a gentle sniff, Aunt Mary Lin stepped out her niece’s embrace, and smoothed her woolen skirt.  “Ye go’n and git whatcha be needing for this trip, lass.  I’ll pack up some food fer ye, an’,” with a glance to the elf, “some fer yer guide as well, in case his huntin’ donna go so well.”<br/><br/>Her eyes shone slightly, Tara nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak, and hurried out of the kitchen, racing up to her room, grabbing a back pack and stuffing odd clothing that she thought she might need; a sweater, a fleece pullover, even a wool stocking cap. It might be late spring but the chill was still in the air, and the mornings felt almost frosty.  Quickly she changed into a set of hiking boots, she'd gotten for hiking in the Adirondacks.  She wasn’t sure if camping was what he had in mind, though for the life of her, Tara couldn’t quite imagine Parne curled up under a tree, let alone dancing in a ring of mushrooms.  The image startled a soft snort of laughter from her, as she grabbed a few toiletries, soap, a mirror, and a toothbrush for good measure.<br/><br/>Slinging the pack over her shoulder, she took another glance around the room, her glance passing over the small silver frame that held a picture of her family, laughing at the picnic table that stood outside their cottage on Cape Cod.  Rusty, their Irish setter had just stolen a hamburger and was gleefully gulping it down, no matter how hot it had been from the grill.  Biting her lip, she wasn’t sure whether to laugh at the memory, or cry a bit at how much she suddenly missed them.  Still she was probably making more out of this than was necessary.  She still didn’t quite believe Parne’s claim that she would learn magic and be able to help defeat this Ancient.  It would probably turn out all for naught, and he’d have to grudgingly escort her back to make it in time for Aunt Mary Lin’s deadline.<br/><br/>Setting the picture down, she headed back downstairs, a long woolen coat over one arm and the pack over the other.  The braid she had wrapped around her head, so that it formed a sable coronet around her face, though she still hadn’t noticed the slight smudge of flour on her cheek.  “I’m ready!” Her voice sung out, almost lyrical in her eager anticipation.   Aunt Mary Lin had a linen satchel all packed up; meat pies and apples, a small quarter of cheese.  She handed Tara the satchel, all business like, and then in an obvious step, so that Parne couldn’t help but be aware of it, she passed Tara a sheathed knife.  “Keep thas near ye.  It’s protection from mortal and fairy, made a’ cold iron i’tis an' with a sharp edge.”  Lifting her chin, she looked over to Parne, “Sheathed an’ wrapped it won’t hurt him, but ye keep it close… jes in case.”<br/><br/>