Xaviers!

"I'd no intention of causing a scene, but you may get what you expect if you keep this up..."

Erica's eyes flash with purple energy briefly before she turns and walks up the stairs with a stiff posture, "There's no profit in me forcing you to make a scene. Close the door behind you."

In the room is a young man in a suit, holding a pair of smith's tongs. The tongs are clamped around some something, their vice end and the clamped item covered by a cloth stitched with rough symbols. Below the cloth is some sort of chest, the interior worked in symbols as well.

Wanda's standing, her head tilted as she looks at the strange scene.

Isolde does exactly as asked, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it as she crosses her arms. She keeps a sharp gaze on the man.

To his credit, the man doesn't immediately wither under the gaze. Erica moves over to the cloth, "Wanda, I just want you to give me your impressions of this item." She pulls the cloth off, revealing that the tongs themselves are worked with symbols of their own. In the jaws of the tongs is a horn. The horn itself is twisted like a spiral staircase and appears to be from some sort of goat, if Isolde is any judge of animals. There's some subtle carving on the horn, but it's difficult to make out what it is at a distance.

What's not difficult to make out is Wanda's reaction to the item. One of her hands goes to her stomach and Isolde picks up on a wave of nausea slamming into her.

"Cover it again," Isolde says, curling a lip.

"In the chest with it, Stewart," Erica instructs and the young man complies quickly, but efficiently. Erica toes the box closed.

As soon as the lid drops, the nausea begins to subside and Wanda straightens up. "That... that thing is vile..." She almost spits.

"I'm assuming you didn't bring her here to be the canary in the coal mine."

Erica shrugs, "Your assumptions are your own. I had my suspicions, but I needed a second opinion." She leans back against her desk, crossing her arms. "I will say that I didn't expect her to react that strongly."

"What is it, besides an affront to nature?"

"Not, apparently, what it was advertised to me as. I am going to have a long talk with that supplier about what our agreement specified."

"She's done injury to you, Wanda."

"Ask her your question. You're owed it."

"You've a rather liberal definition of injury," Erica protests. At the same time at some unspoken signal, Stewart picks up the box and carries it from the room out a hidden door in the wall. "I trust the two of you to be discreet and not reveal knowledge of that door to anyone," Erica says, "In the interest of not having to curse a werewolf, I'll answer your question, Wanda."

Wanda looks back and forth between the two women, "Isolde says that the Children are known to put down roots and pick a 'place' for themselves. How... early does that usually start?"

Erica raises an eyebrow, looking at Wanda and then at Isolde.

"I can't have been the only one that noticed that. You've encountered more than a few yourself."

"Certainly, but it's a... strange question. And I've not made a study of these things, so I can only say that it seems to vary for no trigger that I understand. Certainly there's no trigger that I'm aware of, but appropriately attuned, you can see the magic tying them to the land. That much I can tell you."

"So you've never encountered one before this happened."

"Not to my knowledge. I've encountered several of various ages, but they all seemed pretty settled. And 'how did you pick this place' never really came up."

Wanda frowns, obviously not getting the complete answer she was looking for, but, she supposed, Erica couldn't know everything. "Well, I take your answer in payment for the injury."

Erica smirked at Isolde, "She's learning."

"One tends to, when thrown in at the deep end."

"I'm sure her choice of guardian doesn't hurt," Erica says with a wave of her hand. "I have no more for you tonight and I have someone to make very sorry, so if you'll excuse me?"

Wanda nods, turning back towards the door, "Isolde, I feel like dancing. Shall we?"

"Just like that?" She asks, quirking a brow.

She's already offering Wanda an arm, though.

As they leave the room, Wanda takes her arm, "I just have a feeling moving will help me more than alcohol."

"Fair enough. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"No permanent harm done as far as I can tell," Wanda says, "And you showed admirable restraint. Thank you."

"...I suppose that was restrained. By my standards."

"I appreciate it all the same," she says as they get onto the dance floor, pushing out to the center of the crowd. She turns to face Isolde, putting her arms around Isolde's neck. Without warning, she leans in to kiss Isolde passionately. They certainly aren't the only couple this close on the dance floor, but Isolde can feel there's more to this. Even though there's true passion in the kiss, Wanda does have feelings for her after all, the kiss is also possessive. The kiss is flag-waving. She is mine.

Isolde for her part isn't unreceptive to a kiss that passionate, but she does look a bit confused once their lips part.

"...I don't think I quite earned that tonight."

"Maybe tonight put you over the top," Wanda says as she starts dancing, still not having removed her arms from Isolde. "If you object, I can try to take it back," she teases.

"I can't say as I'm complaining."

"One more thing to get used to, I suppose."

"But something you could grow to like, right?" There's a flicker of doubt in Wanda's eyes that get buried quickly under some sort of fire.

"...you don't have to worry about driving me away. I'm not sure you could."

"But I do have to worry about leashing you, if you'll pardon the inappropriate analogy," Wanda says.

"I know not all of my impulses are useful..."

Wanda's dancing slows, "Not what I mean. Rough edges, sure, let's deal with them. But I don't need you to be less... you. I'm not communicating this well."

"I went into this with eyes open, Wanda."

"Besides, a dog on a leash can drag the other end," she smirks faintly.

"I think you do sometimes," she says, "I think I kind of like it." Her dancing begins to pick up again.

"Then perhaps we're worrying for nothing," she says, a bit of gold seeping into her eyes.

At this point, Isolde quite definitely starts to lead the dance, showing Wanda that all those years weren't just spent in the woods.

As they dance, the rhythm almost takes on a heartbeat-like quality and Wanda seems to be doing a pretty good job of feeding into Isolde's lead. A few of the people near them start to follow their dance, obviously watching the two exceptionally tall women.

If anything, Wanda keeping up well encourages Isolde to keep the pace brisk, trying more adventurous moves like dips and twirls.

She couldn't care less about being stared at, the level of connection here is something she didn't know she was craving.

Wanda seems to actually feed off of either the attention or the few people nearby who are trying to copy their dance, it's hard to say. Her skin, slightly pale after her encounter with the vile item, begins to regain its color.

Isolde isn't going to say 'no' when her dance partner seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself, so she pours on the effort, more and more daring until she ends the song with a low, sweeping dip of Wanda, grinning toothily.

"Maybe now I've earned it."