[Open] ~The Wayward Soul.~

[FennWenn]

Wings dragging along the wet stone, antennae and hairfluff tangling beneath his hood, Fenn splashed his way through the streets of Stonevale. A brown cloak was slung about him. The garb hung a little loose on his tiny frame, but it was perfect, or rather, it was a most perfectly nifty wardrobe item. Though not soft the way his green cloak was, its waxy threads protected him from the rough weather. No longer did he need to fear and flee the cursed sky-piss known as rain! No longer would he freeze into a frosty little statue! His feet were still wet, but that wasn’t an issue so long as he kept moving. Cheerfully, he waded through grey air and thicky sploshy puddles, watching water pool in the cracks of the path and divots in the grass.

He was here to visit an old friend of his. Or, so he had been told; Fenn’s previous acquaintances had been wiped clean from his mind, like chalk off a slate. But his friend, Banrion, hadn’t. The snake-headed fae slowly filled him in on the details of his pre-metamorphosis life. Apparently, an alchemist he once knew lived in this town.

But the boy was in no particular rush to make his re-introduction. For the moment, he was here to stick it to the weather and find some grub.

But before he could do that, he spotted a different old friend. One he had met recently enough to certainly, definitely remember.

Good work, brain.

There were several men gathered around her. One was a skinny lad, with brown hair and an air of warmth to him. The other two were quite frightening; one, demonic in appearance, the other covered head-to-toe in shiny burny iron plate metal. It made Fenn shudder in his cloak. He did have a very nice scarf though… A very, very nice scarf. Long, blue, silky-pretty. It made his thieving hands itch just looking at it. Ooh, soft.

Mouth’s ends twitching up into a sly grin, the boy plodded over. Yvvie certainly was the popular one! Of course she was; she was pretty and witty, and he assumed that would line suitors up at her door for miles and miles.

But what did the young fae know about romance?

What he did know was that he might have overheard the word “food”. And food was never not needed. If he had to theatrically pretend to faint of hunger in front of this strange crowd to seal the deal on a free meal, he would.