Hushed Willows she thought she was done

✹☾❂

Eleuthera by far wasn’t the only wolf who visited the willows these days, but perhaps she was the only one who lived there in a punctuated, weekly fashion. She spent some days within the willows and then she wouldn’t, disappearing for however long she felt necessary to quell her desire for entertainment, or company, or just something different — but then she would come back, and visit the watch that lay next door, and repeat the whole process again. 

The lilac faerie wanted to stay abreast of all the happenings in her willows, even if she loathed to spend every moment of her life in such a sad, sober place. She found this way of things worked well for her, as the whispering woods always held their secrets in a language she easily understood — scent. Scents lasted long in the early winter, without the heavy precipitation to wash it all away, and she could easily figure out who had been where, when they arrived, what their intentions were, and when they left.

Upon her most recent reentry, the willows told the woman a story of a sad, shivering wolf who took harborage within them — only that the wolf was still there, and the story was still unfolding. Eleuthera, more out of curiosity than it was out of any sense of ownership here, sought out the newcomer almost immediately. Leu found her, frightened and wide-eyed, beneath one heavy, weighted bough.

“Hey,” she cooed softly. “You alright?”