Hushed Willows Could've been the wine

tail sweeping happily back and forth, caw returns the smile, still completely unaware of anything going on under the hood, so to speak, of this standoff. vrána’s talons curl uncomfortably through the thick fur of his nape and into the skin, but he is very used to this, even if it does not make things any less painful; again, he is more absorbed by the compliment.

if he was a little less naïve, he might have been aware that it was probably not great to make an intruder happy, but! orlaith has that lesson covered spectacularly well. caw’s ears flatten back at the boom of her voice; he ducks his head, though his stare, bright and unblinking, remains fixed on virtute’s face.

surely that does not mean he has to stop looking! even if it does, it is probably not enough to deter him. and the faerie queen is speaking now anyways; caw is content to let her while he hovers, quiet but still fascinated.

it is only her particular choice of words that makes him look away. a small thing, but for once a small thing is enough for caw to pick up – two of them? he cranes his head curiously, searching through the canopy and, very abruptly, stills when his eyes land squarely on a second cat.

orlaith has told him not to speak! and he probably should not wag his tail, because lumiya wants them to leave now. he stares at the cat instead, wondering if they will listen. it is okay to visit, but it is not okay to ignore the queen’s word.