Chaucer's dull grey eyes shot over to Severia and gave a wide stare as though she had just told him the Philosopher's Stone was in her pocket. The lad had a habit of sitting down and asking himself a thousand and one questions and becoming very bored during the actual answering aspect. As a result, anyone who offered an explanation to his thoughts was as good as a sage.
"Truly? Muggles have such bizarre imaginations - innovative and silly! And yes, the familiars... black animals are considered to be of the fey realm, aren't they? And also associated to witches? I wonder, I wonder..." He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the unusual ceiling. He was surprised at the enchantment and made a little surpised jump before resuming a contemplative position; finger tips touching and raised like a steeple.
"And there's always the link with the dead - marvy what a different notion! You had me entertained there, did you see?"

Chaucer raised a skeptical brow as he continued his stare into the hypnotizing ceiling. "The funny thing was, dear one, that I too looked for this monster. I had read Beowulf and was emboldened by his defeat of Grendel." He turned his serious stark features to Art, as though about to reveal a terrible secret. "And you know? I searched all through that closet - which was no easy feat mind, it does have all my clothing - and there was a dark box at the far end that I didn't recognize. I was tempted to simply fling the thing into a fire, but I wasn't allowed near a match at that age. That's responsible parenting!" He added this matter-of-factly before continuing.
"So I continued towards it... I carefully opened the lid. I tell you, my screams shamed the banshees that night. Turns out there was a bogle in my closet that my parents never knew about. I had a bit of bad luck on a farm as a tot, and it knew this; it formed a maniacal turkey." The hysterical gobbles of which still haunted him to this day. My heart races now to even think about it!