Scratch. Circle. Scratch. Another circle. Jasveer bent down, and surrepticiously scratched a circle on the staircase there, too. Each little chalk outline was marked with a tiny little inscription inside, barely two wiggly lines. It wasn't a code or anything, just runes. They helped her concentrate. And right now, despite the cold and sea breeze, the girl in the brown poncho was sweating. Each step she took up the long flight of stairs was slow, thoughtful. At least until someone shouted at the top and she jumped, scared out of her wits of the punishment that would inevitably happen. Oh. It was just a kid, somewhere at the front of the gathered flock of children. She couldn't see why he'd yelled, but it'd still broken her concentration. She turned back to the staircase, and moved out of the way of the last aspiring magician who came out. She gave him a smile. He gave her a wierd sort of wink, which quite startled her. 

After a small moment for her to regain her concentration. She turned back to the convoy, and set to walking in that same slow, leisurely pace that she'd been taking all the way up the stairs. As she walked, her brow knitted and became beady with sweat as she concentrated on a few chalk marks several yards away.

On the cliffs, there was nothing but seagulls and moss, desperately trying to cling to their little niche of land where the earth and saltwater met. One hopped across a nice crag, pecking at some of the richer areas looking for food. It came across a convenient crag and settled down in it to roost. With one beady bird eye, it glanced at the walls of the cliff. There was something new on it. Something white, circular. and etched onto the wall. It was glowing, slightly. As it watched, the chalk outline became grey, waxy, reflecting the light of the barely risen sun with a strange, ethereal light all of it's own. Behind it, the earth was moving in tiny, tiny increments as rust broke down into air and earth and pure iron moved in snakelike ways close to the sygil, wrapping itself around the marks that were forcing the very earth itself to heel. The circle, now silvery and raised over the rock made slight [i]pink[/i]s as it cooled against the fresh air. And all along the cliffs, a few more were going through the same process. 
 
The girl in the brown poncho breathed out in one gasp, satisfied in the knowledge of a job well done. Those would last better then chalk did, and she could come back later with a wheelbarrow and reap the iron quicker this way. She picked up her pace and hopped along at the back of the pack.