Hushed Willows your arms full of lullabies, orchids and wine

caw is not a warrior. he is aware of this, at least! this does not keep him from being quite certain he is capable of fighting; nobody has yet proved him wrong. it is very simple, or it should be. he has chased his prey and torn it before until it has stopped moving, he has been able to do that much – why not the same with wolves?

“can fight!” caw says, buoyed by her nod of approval. this is not a lie, strictly speaking. he is just not very good at it (not that he knows). head still angled to the side like a dog hearing a strange noise, he blinks at her. “why do saints bother faeries?”