"Oh no," Helena said quickly, giggling. "He's somewhere in the owlery." Probably trying out for a hooting band or something. Maybe an orchestra of hooting owls? Or... maaaybe none of the above? "I'm not giving him letters yet. He's still..." ... young? "My little baby," she finished, grinning. Besides, there were a lot of owls willing to send letters, in case Helena needed one.