Private Finished Interview at Lockwood

Arriving at the clinic a little after eight, Natasha hummed happily as she took off her fur coat and hung it in a closet. She was probably one of the few that truly enjoyed all this snow. It reminded her of her childhood, and her time at the Russian court when five or six of the girls would pile into a horse-driven sleigh, under mounds of blankets and furs as they went racing across the snowy fields.

Turning on the lights and opening blinds to let in some natural light, Natasha put a few drops of lavender and vanilla into a diffuser and turned it on. The two scents together created a calming, warm and inviting atmosphere. She then went to the kitchen area and made herself a tea. She really didn't need it, but it was warm and comforting, and Natasha just liked the idea of drinking tea even though it gave her no real nourishment anymore.

Taking her tea to her office, Nat looked at her day planner to see her appointments for the day and remembered that she had an interview that morning with Dren A Tre Medhyk.

@Romi

As she was putting down her daytimer, Natasha heard the knock on the door and looked at the clock. Seeing it was almost the hour for the interview, she got up from her desk and walked through the empty clinic. Almost all her appointments had cancelled for the day - probably because of the snow.

Opening the door, she let in, who she assumed to be Dren A Tre Medhyk. A tall satyr-like individual. Regarding him curiously for a second, she immediately thought that he reminded her of something out of her Russian fairy-tales.

"Do come in," she said politely, her voice lightly accented. She had never really lost her Petersburget accent, not even after 250 some odd years.

"You are Mr. Medhyk, no?" Natasha asked him as she gently closed the door behind him, gesturing that he should step into the clinic where it was warmer.

"My apologies, Dren," Natasha nodded when he politely corrected her and offered up the explanation as to why he was not Mr. Medhyk. She had met a few other people over the course of her lifetime that followed the same social naming rule, so while unexpected, it was not something she hadn't encountered before.

Walking almost soundlessly across the hardwood floor of the clinic, Natasha decided to take Dren to the empty waiting room area that was warm, quiet and filled with plants."Have a seat, please," Natasha said as she indicated that he should make himself comfortable.

"You are from A Tre Medhyk?" she asked Dren politely. "Where is that exactly?" she added with genuine interest. Nat had never heard of such a place before, though if she had to guess it seemed somewhat North European - that is if it were even located here on Earth or in this very dimension - which it might not be, she reminded herself.

Natasha smiled then and tried not to laugh, not wanting to offend him. She finally realised after sensing his confusing, that Dren wasn't quite sure what she had meant.

"A doctor's office? Where you a doctor, or was somebody in your family a doctor?" she asked him, deciding that she could come back later, if she wanted, to the previous question. Right now, she just wanted to get a feel for the person she would most likely be hiring.

Natasha nodded at that. It was good to know. It meant, well, she didn't know what it meant exactly, but to her, it was a good sign ... a good omen, portent... whatever you wanted to call it. Natasha still believed in those type of things. The witch in her couldn't help but believe in things like that, she was even, perhaps, a tad superstitious at times if truth be told.

"Your doctor was a medic..." she said with a warm smile as she sat a bit forward in her chair, "And what about you? Did you ever help him, or have an interest in what he did?" she enquired, now extremely interested in knowing his life story.