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Hannibal's daemon was an ethereal-looking barn owl, hooded in unusually dark feathers for her species which framed a ghostly, white face. Its pitch-black eyes were what stood out the most, and looking into them was akin to looking into the cold abyss with how they seemed infinite in how much they took in, observing with the same cool and slightly amused detachment to everything around it as its master.
As it stood there, perched on Hannibal's shoulder, razor-sharp talons placed delicately so as to not risk snagging and pulling even a single thread from his suit-jacket, Will could not help but imagine describing it as wraith-like. He got the chilling sense that had such an animal existed in antiquity, it would have been regarded as an omen of death and misfortune, especially with the disconcerting and frankly ominous way in which it loomed, eyeing Will intently.
As Amelia usually did when Will found himself studying another person in such a manner as he did to Hannibal, whether intentionally or unintentionally, she shifted to copy to the other daemon's form, albeit slightly smaller with lighter coloring, and half as intimidating. Hannibal's eyes widened ever so slightly, as if in surprise, and his lips curled in the ghost of a smile. Will cursed underneath his breath and looked away, preparing himself for the haughty, condescending, or pitying taunting that usually came from people when they realized the rumors of a certain Will Graham were true.
"Your daemon has yet to settle," Hannibal observed, a simple and bare statement of fact. Even so, Will still could feel the heat rising to his face from having it put out there so plainly; Hannibal may as well have been remarking on the weather for how he took notice of what many others were so quick to write off as an unnatural aberration. As if it wasn't bad enough already, Amelia suddenly shifted again in response to Will's otherwise well-concealed embarrassment, turning into a mouse and scurrying down into the breast pocket of his jacket to escape the uncomfortably calculating gaze of the owl. The other daemon clacked her beak as Will's disappeared from sight, earning a reproving look from Hannibal, who murmured something Will couldn't hear, and the daemon spread her wings and flew up to the upper banister which ringed the second level of the library within Hannibal's office. Will marveled how silently she flew, the beats of her wings making nary a whisper against the air. Though, seeing her up there, half-concealed by shadow, dark feathers made darker and white face made whiter by the contrast, combined with those all-seeing black eyes, Will found it even harder to keep himself from likening the sight to that of Death itself, ready to swoop down at any second and snatch away his soul in those same gleaming talons which were so careful not to mar Hannibal's clothing just moments before.
An awful lot of morbid metaphors, Will thought to himself wryly, for the daemon of man who was otherwise very distinguished-looking. Will decided to ignore it from then on out.
His head tilted as he appeared to take in Will in an entirely new light, wheels turning and eyes glinting in a way that Will couldn't quite describe when he glanced back up.
"Jack told you," Will said just as simply, almost accusatory but not quite; for the most part stated in the same plain and bare way as Hannibal had. Sometimes it felt like Jack enjoyed flaunting him around if only because he found a way to use Will's peculiarities to his advantage.
Hannibal smiled that mysterious smile of his, and tilted his head, eyes glinting in a way that Will couldn't quite describe.
"Jack only told me that we were an important asset to the FBI, and that he wished to have you as a profiler for a while longer yet." Hannibal smiled again, tight and closed-lipped, and spread arms in invitation. "So, here we are."
Will found it hard to believe the idea that Jack would so carelessly leave the subject of his daemon out of any conversation, but nevertheless found himself believing it from Hannibal all the same. He sat down in the plush armchair for lack of any real argument against this situation Jack saw fit to thrust him in, and Hannibal followed suit in the chair opposite. One leg crossed over the other and his hands laced together in his lap as he patiently observed Will across from him.
Above, Hannibal's owl daemon lurked, unnaturally still as the unblinking eyes felt as though they stared into Will's very soul.
"Yes, Amelia hasn't settled," Will began without any pretense. "She usually takes the form of a dog of some kind. Makes it easier for people not to notice right away."
"Dogs are typically known to be the daemons of servants," Hannibal commented, nodding. "As well as soldiers, of course, but society is naturally inclined to look over something as common and unassuming as a dog. A worthy disguise."
Will felt somewhat perturbed at the thought of being compared to a servant, of all things. Even if he did feel like that at times, especially with how Jack expected his orders to be followed without hesitation.
"We try not to shift in front of others," Will continued as though Hannibal hadn't said anything. "But, it... it can be unavoidable, at times, with my... unusual empathetic ability." Will grimaced, hating how the words tasted on his tongue. Jack's own kind words regarding him. "She tends to assume the shape of whomever I happen to be associating with, especially when I'm working."
"Your daemon is closely connected with your empathic abilities, a factor which Jack uses to his advantage," Hannibal surmised easily. Will nodded hesitantly in confirmation. He was moderately grateful that Hannibal chose not to mention how she had shifted to copy his own daemon.
"When I... enter the mind of a killer," Will continued uneasily. His hand went up to his breast pocket, to feel the quivering mouse-shape that was Amelia. He wished that she could be a dog, curled up at his feet as she usually was when he was teaching classes. "There's a decent chance she will shift into something closely resembling their daemon, if it's not already known. When I'm in that headspace, she is too. It helps when building profiles."
Hannibal nodded slowly, a knowing smirk gracing his lips, eyes glinting again in that same indescribable way that had begun to both intrigue and unsettle Will at the same time. Amelia emerged from his pocket and became a russet-colored stoat, coming around Will's shoulders and neck, beady eyes staring almost challengingly up at Hannibal's daemon.
The owl above clacked her beak again, talons clicking on the lacquered wood of the bannister as she moved and shifted, head bobbing slightly in curiosity. Amelia hissed warningly, shrinking back. Will fought the urge to cover his face. The last thing he needed was his habit of avoidance to cause his daemon to start a feud with his psychiatrist. Hannibal shook his head in minor annoyance, looking back at Will apologetically.
"I do apologize for Elžbieta. I acknowledge that she can be rather intimidating to some, on occasion." He inclined his head to indicate that he also took no mind to the way in which Amelia continued to watch his daemon suspiciously. "I try to keep out of direct sight, but I have noticed that the absence of a daemon can upset others just as much as the presence of one can. I've taken to observing the reaction of a patient's daemon first, to see which action might be more preferable to the person."
"No harm done," Will muttered, giving a nearly imperceptible nod in acceptance of Hannibal's frankly unnecessary apology. It was nice, but Will was far too used to the daemons of others antagonizing his own to really care. Still, Will mentally admonished Amelia for acting out. As if sensing such, a small growl of petulance rumbled in Amelia's throat and she shifted again, this time into a magpie, fluffing her wings indignantly on Will's shoulder. The whole show appeared to amuse Hannibal more than anything, Will noticed. Though, not in the way it tended to amuse others– as if Will were nothing more than a circus act in a freak show. Hannibal's amusement was more... polite, in a sense. Like the sort of amusement a parent might give to a wayward and excited child. Will pulled a frown at the thought.
Hannibal was quick to notice the shift in Will's mood.
"You are disquieted by the fact your daemon has already shifted forms many times in front of me," he said.
"You could say that," Will snorted bitterly, not bothering to hide the amusement from his own voice.
"Care to explain?"
Will did not answer for some moments, looking everywhere but at Hannibal in an attempt to avoid those indescribably piercing and attentive deep, maroon eyes.
No, Will thought suddenly. He could describe them: intoxicating, like that of a predator, and he would be lying if he said he could already feel himself be drawn to them like prey to a well-laid trap. Regardless, he shook the feeling and went on as prompted.
"I feel like it causes people to see me as childish," Will worried his bottom lip, pausing. "That, because my daemon hasn't settled still well into adulthood, something must be wrong with me. That I'm unstable. Dangerous. People can't place what I am based on daemon alone, so they either fear me or regard me as some fancy pet."
The last word was practically spat out, Will's face contorting momentarily into a scowl of scorn and resentment, Amelia cawing softly in sympathy in an effort to calm him. Hannibal regarded Will quietly all the while, human and daemon observing the other and his daemon with well-hidden but newly-resurged interest.
Hannibal hummed, turning over what Will had said in his mind.
"The daemons of adolescents are usually regarded as unstable because they tend to shift to match the often equally unstable, ever-shifting mood of their young child. People do not know what to make of a daemon that won't, or can't, settle. The reason is as unknown as the reason why daemons ever settle in the first place."
"Are you saying that Amelia can't, or she won't?" Will retorted dryly, finding Hannibal's initial response far too clinical for his liking.
Hannibal only smiled. "Who can say? Daemons themselves often do not know. You may ask her yourself if you do not believe me, though I suspect you already have."
Will was reluctant to admit that Hannibal's suspicions were true. There had many a night that Will had asked Amelia why in futile desperation, only to have her respond in frustration that she had no answer to give him.