Welcome!

After the radio broadcast, Cecil did as he'd promised and came back to his room and hugged Foucault a lot. And fed him; he was about the size of a really large turkey now, and his adult feathers hadn't even started coming in yet.

Then he fussed about his blood-stone circle for a while to make sure it was perfect before he commenced one of the oldest and most important rituals he knew, which basically translated to "please leave me alone".

He could do this. He hoped.


[OOC: open room and post!]