Hushed Willows Selectively after The Rain

it is still very wet. the floods have not yet fully receded, and everything still squishes under his feet. some of this is fine for him, because he does not like to sleep in tiny spaces underground where he cannot see the sky, but mostly it is inconvenient. it makes digging holes for his herbs very hard, and gets his paws all sticky with mud.

but it has stopped raining! and it is also not very cold still, even though the willows are beginning to turn pretty colors already, so he can curl up and sleep on the flat tops of the rocks, and it is not too much of a problem. except this morning lumiya's call wakes him from his slumber and when he leaps to his feet he forgets exactly where he has put himself the previous night, trips off the edge, and finds himself with a faceful of mud.

when he arrives to the faerie queen he is not in too good a mood. he has pawed most of the dirt from his face and it is not so visible on his black fur, but the taste lingers on the back of his tongue no matter how much water he finds on the way. he squelches through the willow curtains with chin dripping wet and feathers askew – her call has not suggested any danger – and finds a ring of tiny mushrooms blossoming from the soil just before he treads on one.

caw hops backwards, suddenly very alert. his tail sweeps behind him as he crouches to the grass to peer at them, fascinated though he knows exactly what is going on. he has only seen one faerie ring before, back home. they are good luck! but only as long as you do not disturb them, or you will disturb the faeries who have made them.

now he is a faerie! so it is probably...safe? safer than it was back in the valley. but he knows he certainly has not put this here, and the stories do not fade so easily, so he is appropriately careful as he circles the mushrooms and looks from them, curious, up to the faerie queen, tail still swaying gently at his back.