The house was truly nothing of value, property-wise. It was falling apart, there was a hole in the roof, the windows were cracked. The garden around it was large, filled with all sorts of unusual plants.

As Magica approached the old house, there was a great cry from the roof - a black bird swooped down to perch on her shoulder, nuzzling her with affection.

She'd been crying since she left the campfire, quietly so. "I'm sorry I'm late, Ratface." She said gently, taking out a piece of fish for the bird to nibble on.