Whitefish River Little White Fish

sure, that'd be lovely!

"T'ey name me Awenfen," the ghostly fae murmured, owlish eyes blinking solemnly. A flicker of a smile graced her lips, "Awen if ye prefer." 

"It 'as been a pleasure," the mother agreed softly as she rose to her feet. "But..time stills for no'one," came the vague lilt as seelie optics rose to the dark font shadowing the heavens overhead, the snow still falling mutedly about them. She needed to seek shelter for the looming evening, something to fill her belly. 

"I should be goin'," she imparted regrettably as flakes showered from her form, the accumulation of precipitation gathering upon her throughout their conversation. 

"Don't freeze out 'ere," Awenfen wisped as she treaded past him, attempting to jest though it rang with concern despite her efforts. She paused by his shoulder, recovering with a light quip of, "it vould be a shame. I should like to meet ye again." 

Offering him one last, vaguely impish, grin, the sylph walked away, vanishing into the snow-blanketed wood.