“The name is intuitive…” Right. So it’s something that is easily and quickly associated with some quality of the wand and what makes it unique from every other stick on the planet.
“… but something I’d never pick.” Argh. There’s the problem. So the first ten candidates are immediately rejected. Because they are all something that works for me.
I think there’s a lesson here about ownership. If the wand was just a mere tool, then I would be in full rights to name it as I please. But it has developed/nurtured/incubated/taken on a spirit of its own. (Remember the wand turned into a small snake with independent activity in a dream. It is mine, but it is not a part of me.)
Okay. Gotta think this through. It told me its name, so it named itself. When people name themselves, it’s usually based on something about themselves that they are proud of. When they tell others this personal name, there is some showing off of the justification. So…
When the wand told me its name, it also showed me why that is its name. I can’t remember the name, but I remember the actions at the moment of its telling.
~thinks hards~ ~shuts up smoke alarm~ ~resumes thinking~
All it was doing was showing me… oh.
~much laughter~
So there’s a feature of the physical stick that is the wand that I have always seen but never really gave it much thought about because it’s a thing that all sticks have. And in that crucial scene, the wand’s spirit was showing me how it was happy to have that feature in a certain way.
It’s intuitive alright. I’ve spoken of it before to others as part of its physical description. And it’s something I’d never pick because it’s something all sticks have unless intentionally removed. It is like naming a spotted dog, Cerberus Spot. It is what it is.
I now consciously know the wand’s name. Because of what it is, I reserve the right to use That Cheeky Shit as a nom de plume. ~laughter~
On second thought, I’ll just use either “the snake wand” or “the bone wand” as its nom de plume, since both descriptors have been proven to apply. Context and habit will determine which sticks best.
It’s a little thing, but it’s worth mentioning. Somehow I’ve managed to bring the bone wand into the Boneyard. It appeared as a thin ulna, intact and heavy with fluids. On realizing I had brought it with me, I quickly tucked it into the folds of my clothes. The Ravens saw, but said nothing. Yet. I’m sure once the current series of shenanigans come to an end, there will be something.