Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. Or pockets at the very least. Rowan had spent some time building a decently sized cage, far from the village and from the prying eyes of his fellow fae and now it was time to put his plan in action. The poor little creatures of the woods were getting sicker and sicker and nothing was getting better. So, he thought, he would gather up the squirrels and maybe the birds and house them. Then, they wouldn't be eaten by predators and spread the sickness, but also so he could care for them. Their little eyes were blackened, their little paws, it would be hard for them to find food and drink.
So far he had found a single squirrel, young and mostly bright eyed but clearly showing signs of new Blight. Poor thing. It was currently trying its best to eat an acorn and think of ways to escape the pouch it had been put in. One down, several more to go. Probably.
So far he had found a single squirrel, young and mostly bright eyed but clearly showing signs of new Blight. Poor thing. It was currently trying its best to eat an acorn and think of ways to escape the pouch it had been put in. One down, several more to go. Probably.
