"Peanut butter and pickles? Are you sure you're not pregnant?" She grins as she says it, actually teasing him even as her mouth curves up at the corner, scribbling herself a note.

She stops, though, and it's weird. It's weird, because she never thought she'd just... know something, know something magical that a witch doesn't, and she can't stop the well, duh tone in her voice. "A pooka's a ghost horse. Well, sort of. It's a shapeshifter that brings either good or bad fortune with it." She did look at the internet for a lot of it, but pookas and selkies and banshees and the like were the stories her mother told her when she was little.

"Seriously. I just don't want to be all 'Oh, no, werewolves aren't real' and surprise! You know?"