"Yes," Hecate replied, her eyes trailing from Qebhet's eyes that seemed to be two pairs of eyes at the same time, to her mouth, to her wound, and back to her eyes (no, Hecate realised, she'd been mistaken: three pairs at once, perhaps more.) She seemed caught between some transition, but that was not an unfamiliar phenomenon to Hecate, who had walked the boundaries of the world for eons.
Uncomfortable, sure. But the scales and the feathers were not enough to freak her out, though the energy rampant around Qebhet could be a real danger. To her? To Qebhet herself? To Hecuba? Hecate was glad she hadn't bought the puppy.
Hecate placed both hands on the floor, fingers splayed wide, a physical representation of grounding as she reached deep for the energy of the earth. Below the floor, the earth turned on, its energy unhindered, and Hecate wove her own energy into its cool, dark ancientness, so she would be unhindered too. "Ground and center, Qebhet," she encouraged the girl, the chaotic-warring-snake-eyed-shaken goddess. She offered a hand, if Qebhet wanted the connection, and could only hope that their two distinct forms of magic wouldn't clash in some unforeseeable way. "You remember who you are. You can do this."