Hushed Willows Could've been the wine

caw has not made himself so familiar with the faerie court just yet. it is a big place they have! a pretty one too, of many willows and streams, clearings and fireflies. he has even come across the lavender he has been searching for, in small patches higher up, into the mountains.

it is on the way back, with the herbs safely stored in a tiny pocket of earth near the mountain slopes, that he is distracted from his task. he does not know individual faeries, not so well, but he knows the smell of the court! and this is not it.

like a compass needle inexorably pointed north, caw pivots on the spot and chases after it. he is not very quiet in the brush, but he does his very best not to damage the faerie lands, and that includes the plants. he sprints for a long ways, and then, very suddenly, it is there, looming through the undergrowth. and it is not a wolf.

caw has never been a sensible person, so of course he does not do the sensible thing. with vrána tugging insistently on his ear, he tiptoes forwards, looking wide-eyed at the cat wandering by. it is so big, and it walks through the faerie lands without hesitating. perhaps it belongs here? if there are faerie wolves, surely there are faerie cats as well! but what if doesn't? it would not be good if he was to let a stranger wander in! he has told the faerie queen he will defend the willows, and it is not good to lie to the faerie queen!

but he does not have the time to step forward before two other wolves appear from the trees. they are no more familiar to caw than the cat, but they also do not seem happy to see it! so perhaps the cat is no faerie after all? in which case it is certainly not supposed to be here!

with the sort of reckless courage that only belongs to someone who has absolutely no fucking clue what bear trap they are sticking their nose into, caw slides out of the undergrowth, ignoring vrána's protests, and into the light, and hurries just ahead of the stranger.

caw feels very tiny standing in front of him, but he cannot leave now! he looks to the other two wolves, and then to the cougar, crimson eyes wide. "cannot stay. willows belong to faeries!" caw informs him helpfully. his hackles bristle uncertainly, a soft fuzz of grey. "okay to make mistake!" he clarifies. "but if not faerie, should not be here."