Sawtooth Spire i'm bound by the feeling that's so easy to fake

Laughter filled the glade, though it was overshadowed by a fleeting feeling of abandonment on Phaedra's part. Stag did not know the inner workings of the girl's heart, and had he known of the melancholy that threatened to set up shop in Phaedra's conscience, he would have held her all the tighter.
Jerking his elbow away with a giggle, Stag delivered the much anticipated squeal that was customary of him when he was assailed by needle-teeth; he gave no riposte, for already Phaedra was nimbly flitting away like the mischievous faerie she was. "My teeth are big?" Stag grinned, bearing every row. "All the better to ---" He leaned in with a sloppy lick -- "GIVE YOU KISSES."

 He did not follow through, for Phaedra's soft quip was enough to stay him. Lachen -- laugh, maybe? He wasn't sure what soviel meant, but did not press as the conversation naturally transitioned back to a matter of importance: Phaedra's new garden.

"Our own special." Stag confirmed, rolling a rock with one of his big old clown feet.  He didn't see any loosestrife either, but if need be, they could fashion their own barricade to prevent pesty brothers from intruding. "We can always find some and plant it around the perimeter.." He suggested, scanning the vicinity for any sign of briars. 

Finding little besides rocks and pinecones, Stag put them together in a small pile as he thought of Phaedra's most recent question. He gave it careful consideration before he replied. "Those objects probably become bad luck.. But I don't think you need to worry about that -- you are good, Phaedra. Only good things can come from you." He nudged her softly as if to hopefully push her away from such dark thoughts. "Go pick a place, and I will start putting stones around it to keep your sdinkenbrüder at bay."