Take Me to the River

Indeed they have tea, and not only the sort made with peppermint bark! Hazel can think of twelve varieties in  Mother’s larder right away, and nods, “yes, many sorts. Each season brings a fresh array of flavours. Peppermint is my favourite.” She wants him to accompany her one day. All of the finest ingredients (not only for tea), lie in plain sight and she feels it would quench a little of this thirst for knowledge, for lore, that he has. The girl too has an insatiable appetite for learning and exploring; for understanding this world around them. Perhaps they will sit and muse over tea together one day (the dream is wicked, she knows).   Also, she is quite familiar with the heralds her company mentions, though her knowledge and understanding of the trio is not as thorough as with Vi, Mort and Rae. Many among the Fae pray to one of these exclusively, leaving their various offerings at shrines and uplifting frequent praise, but Hazel, herself, is yet to realise why any might suit her better than another. If she prays, it is to them all. Jigano, she thinks, prays to Ludo, and while she listens to him speak with her face tilted thoughtfully, the small native can’t help but wonder what compels his choice. A pause. She is considering his statement, the reference to Long Night, and her smile grows still as if spell-bound. “Long night? Aye- …Thoughts churn through memory of it, nervously imagining the week cloaked in darkness; before hand, stockpiling food and trading woven craft for skins and thread, gathering and storing snow moss to aid with silent travel, searching for glow stones (if you’ve been good). In the months to come, they, the Wild Fae, will be leaving food out for the Luxere. Hazel’s expression grows as dim as the borrowed beams of moon or stars. Savage, monstrous, creatures woke during Long Night. “...at Deepfrost’s end.