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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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some times i see people talking about the Earth and climate change saying things like "now i know it is difficult to deal with utter hopelessness, terror, and visiting the thoughts of death"

and it's like wow I am so deeply sorry about the suffering. but...concern. Concern. Tell me, am I missing something important? Why do I feel a sense of hope for our planet? Am I a lonely fool? Have I been consumed by naïveté and misguided optimism?

That would be weird. It feels weird. It feels like I would be well suited to despair. My natural temperament is Mortal Terror making my body crushed for a thousand years at the bottom of the deepest trenches of the ocean. I've thought before "I can't live any more. This exceeds the tensile strength of the human spirit."

And then? After irreversible catastrophic failure of the soul, there is...what?

We try to imagine the future where we fight to save our home and it is very painful. The resistance feels so small and the machine of death feels so vast. But something's missing.

Everyone else is missing—the plants, trees, bugs, beasts, and creatures. Hello? Are the other humans seeing this? Nature wants you to know that she is not a princess in a tower. Look! Look at the chaos moving through every cell! Iterating! Adapting! Becoming! Thriving! Watch the pollinators tirelessly at work, observe the mycorrhizal network in the forest floor distributing the rich fruits of decay and photosynthesis for every inhabitant! Pay attention! We belong here too. They feed and shelter us, give us the very air we breathe, and in return we plant and propagate, cull, thin, and burn, shape, trample, till, shepherd and sprout seeds. Our species can look toward the future, to the world of our descendants. We can call every plant and animal by name and teach our children to use and care for them responsibly. We can feel this anger, pain, and grief on behalf of the family of Life, OUR family, and we can love the smallest beetle and the humblest moss.

Look at it! This thing is nothing like me, it does not benefit me, it has no use or purpose for me, but LOOK at it! Look at its intricate structure! Look at the marvelousness of its behaviors and biological functions! Look at its uniqueness throughout the whole universe! Look at it, and see its infinite value!

I saved a baby tree from the scorching hot gravel of a parking lot. I watched it grow and thrive in the hands of its caretaker. Many more followed, trees and herbs and flowers, rescued and carefully placed in cups and old tubs that once held yogurt and sour cream. This is so strange, I thought. They're everywhere, offering themselves for free, and no one thinks to take them. Everyone thinks transplanting a tree is hard and that nothing grows on the edge of the pavement but weeds. But it's so easy??? This is weird. Plant Nurseries Hate Her: Get Free Plants With This One Weird Trick.

I protected an old barren garden patch where nothing had thrived from being mowed and weed-whacked, and transplanted little plants that I found. I marveled at the bees that came. Chicory bloomed, then asters and goldenrod. I shed actual tears over a spicebush swallowtail. I ordered some milkweed from the internet, and the monarchs came for them. Less then twenty-five bucks for a divine experience like this. Wow, everyone else really needs to know!

I started volunteering at a nature center, and was allowed to transplant flowers where they sprouted in inopportune locations. I collected tons of seeds all fall and winter long.

There is much, much more, all of it bigger than I ever would have imagined. But this spring there were more birds, in number and in species, than I'd ever seen in my back yard before. Chickadees, swallows, finches, nuthatches, jays, cardinals, warblers, sparrows, woodpeckers of every kind...I remembered just a couple years prior when all I ever saw out there was a couple grackles or starlings or robins, with the occasional sparrow. Those birds come in flocks rather than couples now. And then the bumblebee arrived. An American bumblebee, endangered now, a queen. For a few days she was always out there, would fly out and buzz around me when I came out to tend to my now-innumerable plants. It's nesting time for them. She chose this place I was creating. She saw that this place would take care of her.

A week ago, I discovered wild strawberries growing in my Mamaw's driveway. I found lyreleaf sage growing beside a gravel road. I've become a master of transplanting; I took several of each home. Yesterday, I saw a tiny, metallic blue bee, an Osmia mason bee. Today, I saw an oriole and a strange, very fancy fly. I see something new almost every day. Every day I am being irreversibly changed as a person. How did I ever fail to see how much this matters?

I said I feel hope...do I feel it? I don't think it's a feeling, I think it's a practice. It's being part of our communities and our ecosystems. Nature's interconnectedness is both reality and example: to survive, we take care of one another. And when one member of the community helps another thrive, it creates a cascade that increases the thriving of all. Just by existing, you help us all survive.

You can only take care of so many plants before you have to give some away. You can only hold so much knowledge before you have to give it away. I gave seeds to a dozen different flowers to my next-door neighbor and she invited me inside and wouldn't let me leave without food, and we talked about plants and trees. A family friend lets me have goats' milk and heirloom vegetables in exchange for help around the farm, and I listen to him talk about trees, bugs, and soil and learn so much I feel like I'm about to explode from knowledge.

Being a caretaker is unavoidably a community-oriented, community-forming thing. You can't grow plants all by yourself. Your garden will make too many tomatoes. Share them. Your milkweed will make hundreds and hundreds of seeds. Spread them. Wild blackberries invite you to take and eat. Your lonely retired neighbor invites you to talk and keep her company. Once you grow delicious fruits or little oak trees, you always have a reason to greet someone and say, "Look, it is a gift!"

We're not alone. We are not separate. We take care of each other. Every species, every individual. A single action of caretaking creates a cascade effect of thriving. A single unapologetic love for a creature creates a blossom of curiosity and fascination in everyone surrounding. It's so powerful.

As my chemical romance says "I am not afraid to keep on living"

#nature #community #plants #gardening #you are not separate from every other thing #the wonders #caretaking #plantarchy

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perfettamentechic · 2 years

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25 maggio … ricordiamo …

25 maggio … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2020: John Peter Sloan, è stato un insegnante, comico, cabarettista, attore, commediografo, regista teatrale e cantante britannico. (n. 1969) 2020: Paolo Marzotto, imprenditore italiano. Apparteneva alla famiglia dei Marzotto. Figlio del conte Gaetano Marzotto. (n. 1930) 2018: Sergio Graziani, doppiatore, direttore del doppiaggio e attore italiano. (n. 1930) 2014: Herb Jeffries, pseudonimo di…

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cielospeaks · 2 years

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i wish i drew more of robin solely for the fact id want people to see pictures of robin and assume that hes a canon character in 6 (esp if they assume the story of 6 is about robin and mashu friendship rather than the garbage we got in canon)

#ive literally had a joke sir robin servant for like. since i have gotten into this game and franchise #and he was mostly intended to just be a joke character until 6 dropped and i really didnt like the concept of the fairy knights #so i just made robin and made it so hes a fairy knight. and then canon got worse #but actually canon getting worse made robins story better #he got this cool plotline with the nature of purpose and identity and had the cool detail of being a pucca fairy #like robins story was not supposed to be this cool but it is #its like a story abt finding your own purpose and identity and the nature of courage and the power of companionship/friends and grieving #its unfortunate that i didnt find as much to write abt herb/patsy/ect but i like to think eventually ill flesh them out more #i think rob had his design already and hes the last knight from the main group so it focused on him #also mashu being in just such. a. horrible. storyline. and rob protecting her in a way with his cowardice was just -chefs kiss-#mashu protecting rob physically and rob protecting mashu through like the most last minute unrehearsed 'deception' is so good #i think theres angst potential for mashu (or even david and/or zerkerlot) meeting herb due to his resemblance #which i think is prolly bc of meeting mashu and co. he latches onto an appearance they like #idk maybe herb is like. similar to a siren? i never established what his fairy type is #i think thats another thing. rob being the servant to puck and therefore his fairy type being pucca was just such a good fit #i was salty puck was cut from canon (esp since puck is actually a legit thing in mythology) for dumb reasons #but i like the idea of puck willing his legacy to rob and rob having the pressure of taking it up #patsy and lilys relationship was sweet too. with patsy being like the jaded older sister figure to lilys (remaining) innocent kindness #bc lily has learned abt the worst of things after sw2 but she still has a lot of innocence and naivete #in a way patsy saving/encouraging the last bits of innocence/naievete/faith that lily has is very sweet #and in turn lily being the support that patsy never got but realizes she really loves is also great #and thats just the fairy characters. not even counting the cucu subplot #bully cucu as i call it lol #but its actually a suave backstabbing frenchman and a high school magician thief standing on each others' shoulders in a robe

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greenwitchcrafts · 7 months

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October 2023 witch guide

Full moon: October 28th

New moon: October 14th

Sabbats: Samhain

October Hunter's Moon

Known as: Blood moon, drying rice moon, falling leaf moon, freezing moon, migrating moon, moon of the changing seasons, shedding moon, ten colds moon, winterfelleth & windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirits: Frost faeries & Plant faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Kore, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia, apple, cypress & yew

Herbs/Plants: Angelica, apple blossom, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & Uva ursi

Flowers: Calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, obsidian, opal, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, dark blue, Dark greens & purples

Energy: Artistic works, balance, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer and other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes and wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

The earliest use of the term “Hunter’s Moon,” cited in the Oxford English Dictionary, is from 1710. Some sources suggest that other names for the Hunter’s Moon are the Sanguine or Blood Moon, either associated with the blood from hunting or the color of the changing autumn leaves.

Samhain

Also known as: All Hallow's Eve, Ancestor Night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmas, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios, Shadowfest & Third Harvest

Season: Fall

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom(brooms), black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, boar, cat cattle & dogs

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, brass, carnelian, clear quartz diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Foods: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corm, fruits, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/plants: Acorn, Allspice, catnip, corn, dittany of Crete, hazel, mandrake, mugwort, mullien, oak leaves, pine, rosemary, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle, wormwood & yellow cedar

Flowers: Calendula, chrysanthemum, deadly nightshade, rue & fumitory

Goddesses: Al-lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Banba, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Ishtar, Kali, Macha Mania, Morrigan, Nemesis, Nephthys, Nicneven & Rhiannon

Gods: Arawan, Baron Samede, Belenus, Coyote, Cronus, Dagda, Dis, Hades, Loki, Nefertum, Odin, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Issues Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honoring ancestors, introspection, the otherworld/underworld, release, visions & wisdom (of the crone)

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Related festivals:

• Day of the Dead- (Spanish: Día de Muertos or Día de los Muertos) is a holiday traditionally celebrated on November 1st and 2nd, though other days, such as October 31 or November 6, may be included depending on the locality. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed & is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage. Although related to the simultaneous Christian remembrances for Hallowtide, it has a much less solemn tone and is portrayed as a holiday of joyful celebration rather than mourning. The multi-day holiday involves family and friends gathering to pay respects and to remember friends and family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember funny events and anecdotes about the departed.

• All Saints Day- is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honor of all the saints & martyrs of the Church, whether they are known or unknown

Activities:

• Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse your with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Leave offerings to the Fae

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is a Gaelic festival on 1 November marking the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter or "darker half" of the year. Celebrations begin on the evening of 31 October, since the Celtic day began and ended at sunset.

This fire festival is celebrated on October 31st & is considered the Pagan New Year. It is the first Sabbat on the Wheel of the Year, a cross-quarter festival & the third (final) harvest festival of the mundane year. This is the time when the veil between the worlds of the living & those who have passed is the thinnest, which allows greater communication between the two

Some believe this is the time of the Goddess's mourning of the death of the God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess's sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival of cold weather

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year

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Midsummer nights madness.

Yandere!Fae x Gn!eader (Inspired heavily by fairies from Midsummer Nighs Dream).

Minors dni

Warnings: Suggestive content; manipulation; magic; mythical beings; intoxication; drugging?; coercion; and one very clingy boy.

A/N: Was in a Shakespeare mood and fell in love with Puck, also known as Robin Goodfellow; from Midsummer Nights Dream. Thus, I tried this fic out. Please enjoy!

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Brown, fallen leaves crunched under foot, the sun setting slowly just beyond the forest's dense canopy. Skipping down the muddied, beaten path is you, a simple peasant on a delivery run for the local apothecary. Your mother, a hermit widow and herbalist, was known in the county for her incredibly potent herbs, and her garden was unmatched. Despite how the people revered her work, she was never a social woman. Lately, she had become rather ill, and while she was at home curing herself, her deliveries still had to be made. Though it caused her great grief, though you were unsure why, she gave into your pleading to let you make the delivery.

"But mother, I'm perfectly capable of a small trip through the woods!" You had exclaimed. She only shook her head weakly, waving you away with her hand as she moved to grab the wicker basket of roots and plants. However, her ill state only becomes more evident when she suddenly collapses on the dirt floor of the hut. "Mother!" You cried, helping her trembling form stand. Walking her to her bed, she sits down, and sighs. "Mother, you're in no condition to deliver the herbs, please, allow me to go in your place!" You begged had begged. Begrudgingly, she had allowed you to take the ingredients, but not before slipping a small, worn scroll into your palm. "Remember the rules, my dear. The woods are not safe for anyone, much less someone alone, at the mercy of the night...". She had warned you off the usual dangers, wolves, bears, and thieves, but these simple natural occurrences did not seem to be what worried her most. The scrolls instructions were simple, and went as follows.

'Rule one, to prevent most danger, continue the path and speak to no stranger.

Rule two, if talking is their aim, always remember to not give your name.

Rule three, even if kindness they exude, from a stranger, never takes food.

Finally, rule four, if danger is discerned, touch them with iron, allow them to burn...'

While you must admit you weren't entirely sure about the Iron part, the other rules made sense. It was always best to avoid conversing with strangers in the woods. After having gotten a string of leather from your mother, one which she hung a ring of iron on, you had set off, leading to where you were in the woods now.

You sigh, taking in the fresh air of the forest around you. Being stuck at the cottage all day, allowed to walk no further than the garden, you didn't get too many opportunities to take in the beauty of nature. While initially you had been anxious about the woods, due to mothers warnings, they seemed rather peaceful. The sounds of a nearby stream paired with the gentle breeze make for a relaxing walk. As you hear a twig snap, you think nothing of it, until you look down, noticing that there is no twig under your woven sandal. Something else must have made that noise. You freeze, a feeling of ice in your veins spreading slowly as you look around, trying to discern the source of the noise. After a few seconds, something snaps again. You gasp, now sure that something is nearby. Clutching the basket to your chest, you begin to back away, and as your foot steps land just barely off the path, you hear scurrying. Convinced something is approaching, in a moment of panic you bolt.

Your light footsteps ring out, breathing growing heavy as you sprint away from the path, sandals rubbing harshly on your feet causing them to grow sore. The sound of the approaching beast grows quieter, but you continue to run. You whip your head back for just a moment, to see if you can catch a glimpse of whatever creature is stalking you, when you are suddenly thrown forward. You fall with a cry, slamming into the soft dirt of the forest floor, the contents of your basket scattering as they hit the ground with you. Still panicking, you ignore the pain and sit up quickly, your eyes following your now injured leg to what caused you to trip. Furrowing your brows, as you look closer, you realize you've tripped on some sort of mushroom. A small patch of blue and purple fungi rests where your foot was, stretching around you, as if forming a sort of ring. You hold your breath for a moment, straining as you try and hear any noise from the direction you came. You sigh when you hear nothing, assuming the wild animal has given up the chase in favor of another prey. Now that you feel slightly more secure, you wiggle your ankle a little, trying to work off any pain. Once you're convinced you'll be okay, you take a moment to steady your breathing. Looking to your left, you see the goods you were to give to the apothecary scattered amongst dirt and leaves, but your basket appears to be missing. You gasp, looking to your left and right for the basket, when suddenly a hand appears from behind you, offering you your basket from over your shoulder. You let out a terrified screech, whipping around and scrambling away from the mysterious figure, hands brushing against the edge of the mushroom ring.

As you tremble, your eyes focus on the figure before you. It is not a roguish thief, nor a golden-eyed beast, but rather a bare-chested, wild-eyed young man. He is squatted down on a stump in the center of the mushroom ring, head tilted with a mischievous smile as he peers down at your shaking form. Small horns emerge just past his head of wild, curly hair. Though shirtless, jewelry of animal bones and twigs adorns his neck and shoulders, with splotches of smeared ink and paint spread across his arms and pecs. He would be oddly alluring, if not for the paralyzing shock of his sudden appearance.

"W-who are you?" You exclaim, curling into yourself and staring up at him with a frightened gaze. The odd boy laughs, an impish sound, before leaning forward on his toes, allowing him to peer down at you. "Hmm, I don't know. You first!" He says, grinning as he looks at your face change from fear to confusion, your posture relaxing a little. "Me first...?" You repeat, before you gasp. Mothers scroll, you've already broken one of the rules, 'do not speak to strangers.' You mustn't break another by revealing your name. " I can't say. Besides, I asked you first." You speak out in a moment of boldness, and though his face falls for a moment, taken aback, he smiles once more. "Very well, mortal. They call me Puck, spirit of the northern wood, knave and jester-servant his majesty, the fairy king of the Seelie Court." You tilt your head, rather shocked at his introduction. "A spirit?" He nods. "A fae, in a more specific sense, though I doubt you mortals have an easy time discerning the difference." He sighs, hopping lightly off the oaken stump and shuffling closer to you. "A fae, what is that?"

He lets out a choked gasp at your questions, as if personally slighted. "What is a fae? Have you not heard the legends and tales of my peoples exploits from the drunks and gossipers of your townships, little mortal. We..." He pauses to stand and spread his arms wide, twirling once with a roguish glee. "We are the nurturers of nature, acolytes of the autumn and worshipers of the winter. You owe your fair green fields, evening rains and bountiful harvests to use, you know." He spins back around to face you, leaning down to meet your gaze. "I wonder how you've gone so long, living in neither awe nor fear of my kind." He ponders. You look away, upset about being reminded of your naivety of the outside world. You shrug. "I live with my mother, in no specific town. We are rather isolated, so we don't get the newest information." You explain, and Puck nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. You can't look past his whimsical aura to see the plan forming in his brain. "Aw..." He puffs out his lips, pouting. "Poor mortal, your homely duties allow you no knowledge of the world us fae give you? And no time for jest and entertainment? What a sad life." You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm quite fine with my life, I'll have you know. A-and I get out plenty, I'm delivering good for my mother right now!" You snap, feeling rather patronized by the spirit. He laughs, flopping his head to the side and sticking out his tongue. "You're lying, I can tell. We fae are very keen when sensing deception." "I'm not lying!" Puck only holds his hands up, as if giving you permission to remain in denial.

"Besides," You grab your mother's basket from his hands, ignoring his protests. You quickly begin to place the herbs and plants back into it, very concerned with both making your delivery and getting away from Puck. He seems nice, but... mother had warned you of strangers. As your hands rapidly sift through leaves and dirt, brushing off the produce, you stand back up. You move backwards, not turning your back on the spirit boy. "It's been... interesting to make your acquaintance, but I really must be going if I'm going to make my delivery and return home by nightfall." You attempt to bid Puck farewell and step back over the line of the mushroom ring, but as you do, Puck's eyes widen in momentary surprise. Jolting forward, the wild boy takes you quickly into his arms and leans over you, almost knocking you backwards with the sudden imbalance of your two forms now meshed together.

Despite his thin and lanky stature, his arms and body are surprisingly strong. You can feel his toned muscles press against you in this moment, as his surprise turns back to his grin. "Wait now, sweet mortal friend... there's no need to flee from Puck." He can clearly sense your nervousness, though you can't tell if he truly wishes to ease your fear or enjoys the power he holds over you. "Let me make you an offer-" "I should really-" "No, no, no... just give a spirit a chance, hear my offer before you decline me." He presses himself a little closer to you, though not in a way that makes you feel preyed on, persay. If any other man were to try and hold you to him like this, you would feel sick to your stomach, sure of the man impure and perverse intentions. With Puck though, even though you are frightened by his magical and impish nature, he touch feels almost... nice. He holds you to him, but not tight enough to be threatening, and his lanky limbs hanging from you makes the embrace playful. You open your mouth to speak, but close it, curiosity eating through your nerves. He leans in closely, shaking his head slightly and whispering his offer. "I'll take you to where your delivery is, the-" He pauses. "Apothecary." You finish. "Apothecary, and in turn, you will accompany me for a drink." He presses his forehead to yours playfully, invading your personal space for yet another time as he stares intently at you.

"Oh, no, no, I can't accompany you anywhere!" You take his moment of softness as he waits for a response as a chance to pull yourself from his grasp. To your surprise, he doesn't grin more or even pout at your refusal. Rather, his brows furrow and his smile fades. He seems genuinely disappointed, possibly even hurt. "And for what reason? Surely not for your delivery, as I promised to take you there quicker than any mortals legs could carry them." He inquires. You shake your head. "While I appreciate it, I'm not supposed to speak to strangers, much more accept things from them! My mother says-" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, your mortal mother told you. If I recall, you told Puck that you and your mother know nothing of spirits and fae, so how can you truly know she speaks an accurate portrayal of my people?" He sighs. "I often find the mortals fear us more than they need, just think of me, for example. Has this shadow done anything to offend your nature or kind thus far?" You pause, but then shake your head. "And I'm sure you've broken some of her rules..." You gasp, looking up at him with a bit of a glare, causing him to laugh as he falls back onto the stump. "How did you know about the rules she gave me?" You ask. "I had your little basket with more for quite some time, gave me plenty of time to read." He says. From his hair, he pulls out the worn scroll, and rolls it open, turning to shield it from you when you lunge to get it. "Rule 1, hmm. Well, you've spoken to me, so consider that rule broken." He tears off the top of the scroll, making you groan in frustration. "Rule 2, you've told me no name, so consider that one intact." He moves down to the third rule. "Rule 3, says to accept no food from me, but... it says nothing about a drink...?" He pauses, looking at you. "I- fine, I will accompany you, but I must be home by midnight!" He hops up, and in a rush of glee he throws you up into the air, spinning you in his arms. When he places you back down, still embracing you, it takes you a moment to catch your breath. "You have my word, little mortal, and a faes promise is a powerful thing."

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Several hours later, (though you yourself have lost track of time), you find yourself with Puck, sitting on a smooth rock just beside a waterfall, which leads into a stream. Various flowers of all shapes and colors bloom around you, with one of them producing the sweet nectar which Puck has so graciously been serving the two of you. Despite your initial fear, this evening has been rather enjoyable. Puck tells you much of his life and his people. You learn his works directly under the king, serving as a companion and jester. He regales you with tales of his exploits, from curdling the milk of a farmer mid-drink to scaring a nun into believing she was haunted, nearly driving her mad. He tells you of the king and queen's affairs, the queen's bitterness and the king's anger. You smile, feeling the nectar relaxing you with every sip as you grow sleepy, time becoming of no importance. "More nectar, my mortal friend?" He asks, extending a cup of petals to you. You shake your head, waving him off weakly. "No, I couldn't... truly." He nods and places the vase away.

"Now, what of your home? Tell me what is it a lonely mortal like you does all day?" He inquires, leaning back as he stares at you. "Mmh, I'd tell you if I could think right now, but in all honesty I think this drink is affecting me... perhaps mortals like me are more weak to it?" You ask. Puck chuckles, he himself is calmed by the drink, when he notices your flushed face. Your eyes are dropping, the majority of your body weight leans against the rocks behind you. He often enjoys the drunken antics of his fellow fae, and though he knows mortals to be quite quicker to become inebriated with fae drink, he hadn't expected you to succumb so quickly. In truth, he had only given you a small amount compared to himself, but then he supposed you must not even drink much human ale. "Puck?" You mumble, looking at him through your hooded lids. He is shaken from his thoughts, and nods for you to continue. He tries to focus, but finds your once shy form now relaxed and happy quite charming. "S' getting late, I think... could you take me home?" You ask, slurring your words a little. In truth, he had planned to get the attractive little mortal in a drunken fever with fae ale, and in your combined lustful state enjoy a night of pleasure, before leaving you to find your way back to your human hovel. However, as he argued with you in that mushroom ring, and invited you out, he found himself growing more and more attached, your naive mannerisms and innocence providing a contrast to his wild and knavish behaviors. Now, as you ask for him to return you to your home, he feels the same aching inside him he first felt when you had pulled away from him. He bites his lip, one of his hands wringing and tugging at his leafen skirt, his eyes full of conflict. After a few moments, he swallows, and begrudgingly nods, before attempting to put on his usual grin and try to see unbothered.

"Very well, my mortal friend. Come into my embrace and I shall lead you through these woods to your little mortal abode." He only opens his arms a little, before grunting as you flop into his arms, any resistance sober you would have had completely voided by your drunken stupor and need for warmth. It was rather cold in these woods at night. Puck is taken aback, usually he was the on invading space and hanging uncomfortably off those around him, often being scolded for his perverted clingyness, even among the rather wild and lustful fae. He halts his breath for a moment, before a genuine smiles spreads across his face, though he tries to conceal it behind his smug grin. As his cheeks warm up, he shakes his hair, hoping to cover some of it with the brunette locks. His arms come to sneak under your legs, picking your tired form up and beginning his brisk pace towards your home, which you had described earlier. He knew of it, (as he was sure he'd stolen some herbs from there for some not-so-innocent pranks.)

Upon arriving to your home, he moved silently through the front door, entering your room and gently placing you against your sheets. He places one of the thinner covers over you, pausing to admire your form. Just then, the door behind him opens. Your mother peers in, a look of worry fading as she sees you tucked into your bed, having safely returned from your errand. Though knowing he can't be seen by her, Puck remains still. Once your mother leaves, shutting the door softly behind her, he waits until her footsteps disappear before turning back to you. You groan, and shuffle further under the covers, before looking up at him. "Puck... how come I can see you but mother can't?" He doesn't answer for a moment, as if unsure whether or not to tell you of his trick to scare you into that faery ring with the sounds of a beast, making himself visible to you as your crossed the rings magical threshold. In the end, he decides not to. "Perhaps you're just special?" He suggests with a smile, making you blush. As he looks at you, he clenches his hands, resisting the urge to take you in his arms once more and take you back to the king with him. 'Not yet, not now.' he tells himself. He turns to leave, but your soft voice stops him once more. "Puck?" He nods, turning to face you. "Will you come back and see me?" He feels his heart swell at your request, and he nods. "Of course, you have this fae's word." He flourishes with a bow. You giggle. "And a fae's promise is a powerful thing, right?" You repeat what he had said earlier.

He nods, and with a small gust of wind, disappears behind the blowing of a curtain.

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