"I dunno," he sighs. "I'm not good with names."

His mother, however, notices a very small snow owl over there. The other owls seem to dislike it as much as they dislike Sadde.

Scott observes the owl saga unfold while he tries to think of names.

"Baby, come here a minute?"

He sighs but does. The other owls dislike him. The small one doesn't seem to.

"I think that one likes you!"

He blinks and comes closer. The owl lets out a soft, high hoot. "Can I have them?" he whirls on the spot to ask the shopkeeper.

"I don't see why not. That owl has been rather unpopular thus far, so you'll be getting a fairly low price."

He proceeds to offer a fairly average price for the owl. 

Laura sighs and goes to deal with the whole "purchase" part of the process.

And Sadde offers the snow owl a finger. It nips shyly at it.

"Are you a he-owl or a she-owl?" It hoots once. "He-owl." It hoots again. "She-owl?" It doesn't hoot. "Okay. I'm gonna call you Richard." Low, happy hoot.

"That's a good name! You said you were bad at names!" 

"Scott, honey, we talked about this." 

She pays for the rat. 

The purchase is fairly easy!

He'll just take her money, and would she like to sign up for this newsletter, or his member's club?

No member's club, thanks muchly.

"It's because of Richard Feynman. I'd have named it Marie if it had been a girl owl."

Hoot.

"Who's he? That sounds like a good way to do names." 

The boy tags along behind Sadde.

His mother falls into step with Laura.

"Hey. Nice to meet you. Are you new, too?" 

"In a manner of speaking. I didn't know about—all this—until recently, no."

"He was a physicist! Marie Curie was one, too."

"Oh, okay. Jane Goodall, maybe. Wait, is it a boy or a girl rat? I should have asked the shopkeeper."

"I didn't know anything. My ex-husband didn't see fit to tell me the whole time we were married, and he left just in time for Scott to start...doing magic, I guess."

"My son was quite the active accidental mage. I knew about magic since he was one year old. But until recently, I didn't know of any other magic than his."

"You could ask," he suggests, petting his tiny owl with a finger through the cage.

He heads back towards the shopkeeper, and runs back.

"Boy. I don't know any men who studied animals. I should find a book on it."