Hushed Willows where the world is in the making

Kincaid's tail wagged unconsciously as his "home" was praised. He thought it was quite a place as well, and didn't mind claiming it at all. "I don't know," he said with a little shrug. "Valette's a sensible gal. I kin try'n bring it up, if they'll still have me. Thing is, I been gone a little while, now. I ain't wanna leave while things is still worrisome in these parts."

Both for Eleuthera, and for the sake of a poor little faerie like this. Her kind didn't run away, she said, but her kind seemed very soft and fragile to him. Some of this sentiment showed on his face when he looked back at her, but he was quickly taken in by more talk of faeries, and his worries were put on the backburner once more.

What kind of faerie would he be? Not one of fire, that was for certain — but while he was a little more like Lumiya than he was like Orlaith, he didn't think that quite fit, either.

"How'd you end up a faerie in the first place?" he asked her. "I ain't ever met one before. Eleuthera talks 'bout you all like she ain't quite one of you — not that she don't hold you all in great esteem."