Down in the forest, there is a tree.
What's left of one, anyway.
The Nemeton calls another supernatural creature to its town.
The blood that drips onto it forms a circle.
She's meditated before, the principle is familiar. Though irrelevant, of course.
As the man says, only the powder, and the voice.
"Walk forward, one step at a time. Begin to pour the powder, bit by bit, as you walk in a circle."
She steps as instructed, allowing the powder to dribble out in front of her as she goes.
She pours, and pours, and halfway around, she knows she doesn't have enough to complete the circle.
"The powder will be enough," he insists, voice calm and gentle.
There's half a circle of powder on the floor.
"The next test is to see if a circle can contain you."
"Evidently, our magic sees you as a supernatural creature. Supernaturals keep magic within them, and can't achieve the right mindset for druidry. A werewolf who tries finds his temper flaring, a kitsune's fox spirit becomes restless. If you create a barrier of external magic, they cannot cross."
"I see."
She looks back at the half-circle and gathers the powder up into a neat little ball with a thought. She floats it over back into the jar.
"Now, I'll be pouring this in a circle around you. If the finished circle traps you, we should consider you essentially equivalent to local supernaturals. If not, we'll at least have another data point."
He starts to pour, walking a circle around her.
"Fascinating. You're interacting with the usual rules as if you're native to our world. Try moving something outside of the circle."
"Try bringing it into the circle. There are those whose powers extend beyond it, but can't operate on or within it."