Yes, not totally failing to exist sounds like a very sweet deal, if you ask her.

And about this Other... do the people here care about it at all?

Not really, mostly because of a lack of information. It's just another predator as far as the council's concerned, even if being an Other makes it technically "their" "business." Larger magical towns might have designated monster hunters, but this is rare enough here that it doesn't become a problem unless it eats someone's pet or something.

And does it at any point seem called for to offer to go investigate?

Called for? No. If she volunteers out of nowhere no one would object, though they might be curious about Sadde's motives.

Yeah, she'll keep quiet for now and go investigate on her own, anyway, and return with her findings if there are any.

It's always better to ask neither forgiveness nor permission. Probably no one knew any more than what was said anyway, just what was found and where.

She has been keeping a habit of writing the discussed stuff down on a notebook (if anyone asks, she's doing it in a sufficiently oblique way that it probably looks like fictional worldbuilding), so she notes the what and where and when there.

Does anything else of interest come up?

No, just the usual. Behaims and Duchamps jockeying for position over nothing while Rose Thorburn looks inscrutable at them and Mara almost audibly shuns everyone.

Of course.

She waits it out.

A few of the younger practitioners roll their eyes along with Sadde occasionally. That's pretty much the extent of the agreement from anyone who isn't Crone Mara.

The meeting eventually concludes, having accomplished nothing important to most of the practitioners.

Of course not. And what time is it again?

By now, about 8:30. Late enough that it's definitively after sunset. 

Hmm. She doesn't (yet) want to go after Others at night. She goes back home and sleeps.

(Oh, and she lovingly pets Bob before going to bed. Bob is very nice. She likes Bob.)

The next day, he gets up early, ducks away from his place, and goes to the last place someone found a half-digested corpse.

The remains of a bird, is what he'll find, with its feathers and bones all intact. But it smells worse than dead, and it seems to have shrunk, as the meat has been eaten away. 

No insects or scavengers are to be found. But with glasses removed for the Sight, he'll notice a large ring of stones that have moved, so it's wider than how it looks with. 

...huh. Weird. He goes to inspect it a bit more (with the Sight).

The stones form a ring several meters across, though there's no sign of why they were there. The bird's not inside it (and neither is he) but they're both of them close to the edge.

While the pieces themselves look like regular rocks, with their sizes from "gravel" to "huge," the connections between them stand out in the Sight and the spirit-world ring slowly grows.

...wait, really? It's just—how is it growing, are the spirit-rocks just being dragged or, what?

They are sliding not rolling, it's glacially slow, and he almost can't see it at all. The physical stones haven't followed it yet, or they have but they haven't caught up.

He finds a twig somewhere else and throws it in the middle of the circle.

And it doesn't respond.

He finds a longer twig and uses his glasses to try to poke one of the real rocks from a distance.

Then it tips like a normal rock should.

And it doesn't roll suspiciously towards its spirit self more than the laws of physics strictly ought to allow it to?

Well, not while he's watching. Things need an excuse to match up with their alternate selves. It could have rolled farther and didn't? But moving back needs a plausible cause.