Golden hands, unmade plans

CAIsiDE Though they’d been annoying, and felt like an intrusion at first, Caiside found he was growing more comfortable with the little hands on him. It was almost soothing, in some strange way, to have so much contact with anything else. ”Tulmhainar...?” He repeated softly, trying to recall the name from anything else. Being forced told to shush, and then to follow came unexpectedly, but Caiside found he didn’t want to disobey. As curious as he was about the tulmhainar, or whatever other danger they were running from now, he was still more curious about the sprites, what they were, how they knew him. Rising quickly, and sparing a brief glance around, Caiside followed the trails of gold in the air, delighted to find that he could keep pace, could stride from tree to tree as if it were once again his domain. A giddy, delighted laugh threatened to escape him, his hand coming up while Caiside ran to cage his jubilation behind a palm. He’d already avoided capture, or worse, thus far, it would be stupid to invite now. the whole world trying to tame the spark, but I've got fire burning bright.