Local griffon wasting away, says local griffon. Local griffon skin and bones, reliant on the charity of kind young witches to liberate him from the cold, unfeeling clutches of his partner's starvation rations—

Hermione holds out her hand and Ghostface lunges at it. Before he gets even a step closer to her, Talin swats mildly at the griffon's chest and clicks his tongue, sharp; Ghostface responds to the correction with a grumbling sort of coo, and approaches Hermione slowly this time. He takes the candies delicately out of her hand, one by one, careful of the sharp points of his beak on the soft meat of her palm. His restraint earns him a smile and a scratch behind the ears from Talin, and that seems enough to appease him.

For Talin's part, he notes the scar Hermione sports, first idly and then more obviously—she sees him see it, and she can choose whether she wants to say anything about it.

"They're very handsome animals," he agrees, while Ghostface stares intently at the bag the oranges came from. Talin stops scritching, and Ghostface's ear flicks back at him, his tail lashes once; Talin chuckles and starts scritching again. "I never thought I would see one in the flesh. I'm surprised Riftwatch doesn't have more people signing up just to see them.

"I'm Talin. Don't let him guilt you into giving him any more candy than you feel like parting with."