Admittedly, the Irishwoman had yet to learn this new instrument of hers that she cradled carefully in her arms. Then again, she wasn't necessarily gifted in the art of music either. Truthfully, Maera had only just purchased the acoustic guitar just last week. Actually, she'd stumbled upon it quite literally the same day that she stepped off that plane and onto the foreign soils of this new country that was so different from her own. It had been harder for the young woman that she could have ever imagined, to say goodbye to her parents the way that she had. They hadn't been able to come with her to the airport for fear that the coven might spot them together. It was something that her family had come to realize, the traveling in singles or pairs to keep things as discreet as they could manage. It almost felt like they were trying to smuggle themselves away, hiding in those safe houses and always moving from village to village. It was even harder for the young woman to see the way that The Hand Of Balor seemed to so easily tear apart the very thing that she cherished above all else. It wasn't just her aunt and uncle that had been lost at the cruel hands of the murderous coven hellbent on gaining ultimate power that would surely never come. She knew of cousins and second cousins that had succumbed to the same fate, and while she might never have met them before, it was still heartbreaking all the same to know that what had once been a beautiful, peaceful existence in a land so green and so rich in culture and history was now a place that was no longer safe for her or her family.

She had needed something to keep her busy, something that would keep her mind off her mother and father and the very real danger that they were still living in. She'd never been the type that could simply lounge around and do nothing all day every day. No, she was much more accustomed to helping her parents with chores. Before her whole life changed, before The Hand Of Balor had risen from a few extremist members to one of the largest covens in Ireland, she and her parents had lived off the land like so many could only ever dream of being able to do. She would help feed the cattle and the chickens in the mornings. She would help collect the eggs and tend to Nóra, the family's beloved Clydesdale mare that they counted on to help them with grooming their fields, and when she wasn't helping her parents with those old-fashioned chores that few these days likely grew up being charged with, the young woman was spending her time with Killian. They would often find themselves wandering around the villages, and it wasn't long that she noticed her cousin taking an interest in those local pubs. When they were both eighteen years of age, the legal drinking age in Ireland, that was when the warlock truly seemed to glow when he would watch those bartenders mix and serve those drinks. He soon began to seek employment at those establishments, and with the two cousins so attached at the hip it seemed, Maera had followed suit. She could never forget how happy the Irishman was when he worked behind those polished bars, the way that he seemed to truly shine in that sort of environment. Even Maera found that she enjoyed the warmth and easiness that would more often than not fill the air within those authentic small-town pubs.

But now, that life was far away. Miles and miles, an entire ocean separating her from the world that she had grown up knowing and loving. It was so... isolating. Stressful, either as she spent that long flight wondering if she would ever see or hear from her parents again. She prayed with desperation that they would find their way to this country, far away from The Hand Of Balor. The chances that the murderous coven would find their way here, it seemed impossible. Nothing was ever impossible, though, and it was that very thought that had the young woman anxious and in need for something to help keep her mind busy. As she wandered down those first few streets after having arrived in Sacorsanct, fate would have it that the witch would come across a music store, that beautiful blue acoustic guitar on display in that perfectly polished and shined window. Perhaps it had been nothing beyond pure impulse that she purchased the guitar without knowing much of anything on how to play it, but it would give her something to learn that was new, and new was something that she needed right now. After having settled into her new home that still felt so far from what home had been, she knew that she needed to learn more about this city. And what better way that to explore it. Hence how it was that Maera found Hyde Park and instantly fell in love with its gentle slopes and scattered trees, the laughter of children as they played in the snow and the couples that would walk hand in hand, talking quietly with one another. It was the closest thing to familiar for her, until she could figure out where it was that her cousin resided here in this large and strange place. And that is how one is brought to the here and now, Maera glancing through the trees as she hoped to see whatever it was that had so alerted her feathered companion.

The branches above rustled quietly then, Eurostar's own pearl-hued eyes looking up and having Maera's blue-green gaze quickly following before the next thing she knew, a girl was falling from above. The blue slate white flighted bird startles slightly, wings flaring for a moment in surprise, one wing smacking the witch but she hardly scolds Eurostar as she jumps in her seat a little as well, eyes widened as the girl is now standing there in front of her, her own big eyes bright with curiosity. Suddenly she is bombarding Maera with questions about Eurostar who is now standing there perched on the witch's shoulder, head bobbing slightly as he eyed her curiously in return. Before she can even answer that first wave of questions, the girl is speaking practically milliseconds later as the small girl begins to remark on her playing, Maera thankful that the already rosy hue of her cheeks would hide the blush of slight embarrassment before the girl is reaching for Eurostar. The pigeon welcomes the gesture, squinting his eyes in delight as she ruffles the fluorescent feathers on his neck, hardly protesting at the attention he was getting. Maera can see that her feathered companion amuses the girl and so her own eyes gleam with amusement as she watches the bird soak up every ounce of that gentle ruffling. Finally, the girl has her attention back on Maera, her question abrasive to say the least, though the witch hardly minded."Yes, I talk. And I've only been... trying for a couple days. As for Eurostar, I raised him from a baby so he follows me everywhere", she answers warmly in those rich accented words betraying her heritage as she gives the girl a small smile, trying her best to remember the flurry of questions she'd been given. Those dark eyes are on the guitar now and this time she begins to interrogate the young woman about it. Again, she hardly has a moment to answer the girl's questions before she is carrying on yet again, though the witch was a patient creature and hardly minded the girl's curiosities she clearly didn't have a problem making known.

Even Eurostar seems to be interested in the petite girl, fluttering easily from his perch on Maera's shoulder and to the snow-covered ground, pecking gently at her clothes as if to ask for more attention from her. The witch simply nods, the girl's words making clear sense and only making it that much clearer that she still had much to learn in regards to this new hobby of hers that she was determined to master, just as she had her control over water. She glances only briefly at the truss rod then â€" or what she thought it was if she was remembering right â€" at the girl's comment of the buzzing before Maera's focus has her looking back to the girl asking her briefly why she was playing here despite the clearly concerned remark about paying the guitar in such weather. The witch simply shrugs slightly as her small yet friendly smile remains upon her lips."I just like being outside. But I'll remember that advice for next time", she assures the girl after offering that ever so simple yet true explanation. She watches with soft amusement in those sea-hued eyes as the girl crouches down to where Eurostar dances around the girl, his deep cooing bellowing into the cold winter air. How she loved that sound of his. As the girl offers Maera what she knew of pigeons, all she can do is offer her a warmer smile as she nods gently."Truly remarkable creatures, aren't they?", she asks simply, unsure if her words might bring forth another wave of rapidly spoken questions. Not that she minded of course. She'd always been told that her patience was something of a feat in and of itself on most days. The next string of words falling from the stranger's lips were not a question this time, but rather a statement that might have perhaps caused others to flinch, but Maera is hardly phased. She wasn't saying it to be rude. At least, she didn't think so."Maybe he thinks his singing can help me improve", she muses playfully before that question she'd expected a while ago seems to find the girl's lips, nearly taking her by surprise that she would ask at all."I'm Maera. And that's Eurostar", she answers warmly before glancing to the pigeon who flutters up to perch himself on the girl's head, bringing a gentle note of laughter from the witch before she meet's her inquirer's gaze once more."What's your name, if you don't mind me askin'?", she asks in return, irish accented voice smooth and kind as a gently flowing brook, the witch waiting patiently for whatever reply she may earn from her first new face since moving to Sacrosanct.