Like a moth to a candleflame [Closed to Myr]

[somethingwild]

WHO: Myrobalan Shivana & Newt Scamander
WHAT: Myr and a rifter magical human disaster vs. a bunch of angry moths.
WHEN: Late Cloudreach 9:44, post Mage Strike and Rifter Arrival
WHERE: An unfortunate storage room in The Gallows.
NOTES: Mentions and descriptions of angry moths. For the Research division assignment here.

Newt couldn't help but find himself delighted at his latest assignment for the Research division of the Inquisition. Moths! Angry moths, apparently, destroying perfectly good and innocent books. Any work that he can do involving creatures of any sort gets him excited, these days, cut off as he is from his work on magical creatures back home.

He has a partner for the assignment, which excites him because, if he needs a partner to investigate moths, surely they most hold some sort of danger? Perhaps they breathe fire, or have sprouted fangs in unusual places. (It would hardly be the most surprising aspect of any creature he's studied before; he's seen plenty of unusual things in his time.)

He takes his wand with him, even as he knows well how unreliable his magic is as of late. He'd rather have it with him than not, no matter how useful, or not, it turns out to be.

He reaches the door to the storage room in good time, he thinks. He wonders if his partner is already inside, and decides it can't hurt to look, just in case. He opens the door.

Moths. So many moths. A whole army of moths, it would seem, all of them fluttering like mad about the crates of helpless books.

"Merlin's beard," he exclaims quietly. A smile tugs at the corners of his face. This ought to be fun.