The Snoot was looking with a malicious eye at the line of tasty looking spell jars.
Its liquid fur aglow, he had just appeared from the Rand Holm, hanging by a thread of welcoming vine lazily slithering over Glynis’ window.
The Snoot was attracted by magic like a glukenitch to damp darkness, and it would once ingested, often turn his fur all sorts of dazzling colours —a well known mating ritual for the little creature.
Sadly, people misunderstood the Snoot most, and he was anima non grata in magical lands, people blaming it for all sorts of mishaps and unusual events. He didn’t know that Glynis was good-natured and well disposed towards all sorts of lifeforms, so he was waiting in hiding, using the birds as a cover.