The cliffside was awash with quiet activity as the hunters set about taking care of their mounts. Most ignored him Fenn as he picked his way through the snow, to where Aengus was running a brush through his mount’s silky coat. Infinite questions ran through the boy’s mind. Now that he was here, with others (kind of) like him, what was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say?. Fenn twisted his frostbitten cloak between his hands. He hadn't made plans for actually meeting other Frost Fae, because he hadn't the foggiest expectation of encountering them like this.

Still, he figured that he ought to do something, before this opportunity vanished entirely.

Sir Aengus was busy attaching a leather feed-bag to his mount when Fenn neared him. The furry snowman-pig creature was by his side for an instant, whispering, but it scurried off through the drifts as soon as the boy approached. On the other hand, Aengus turned to greet Fenn with open arms. His expression was soft, as was his smile. “Ahh! Merry meet, little lonely traveler,” the hunter fae said, stiffly lowering himself into the packed snow. “Is there anything you need of me?”

The boy plopped down in front of him. His hands shook with excitement. HELLO, he wrote breathlessly. JUST WANT TALK.

From behind his mask, Aengus’ cat eyes skittered over the loopy scrawl. “I see. And what is it that you wish to talk about?” he replied politely, massaging the kinks out of his back with one hand.

This was not quite the attitude Fenn had expected of the burly hunter. The casual way Aengus had of addressing him, as if the two were acquaintances of sorts, put the boy at ease. It was a relief to meet someone so nice out in these lands! Salvar didn’t usually bring Fenn new friends. He cheerfully erased his greeting and flattened the snow in front of him, knowing what he wanted to say. VERY EXCITED. WANT TO KNOW OF FAE. MANY QUESTION FOR YOU. CAN ASK?

Sir Aengus dipped his head and smiled. “Certainly.”

Oh! Where to start? YOU HUNTERS? WHAT YOU HUNT?

“Odd creatures often straddle the line between here and our realm,” the hunter answered, his tail switching contentedly from side to side. “Regent Oision assembled his hunters to vanquish the troublesome. We hunt those, and other lower creatures that crawl where they should not.”

”OUR REALM?” WHO OISION? Fenn wrote, his ears quivering curiously.

“You do not know of my Regent? Well.” Aengus scratched his beard, eyes half closed in thought. “I suppose that shouldn't shock me. A vernal child, aren't you? You must come from the south.”

CORONE. I TRAVEL MUCH, the boy wrote, nodded.

“Ahh. How long have you been traveling for?”

Fenn shrugged. ALWAYS TRAVEL. FOR THIS TRIP, WEEKISH. Or, so he thought. Accurate timekeeping eluded him more often than not.

“Not a long journey then. Yet, you seem a bit weary,” Aengus observed. He dipped his hand into cloak a moment. “Here. A draft we give those who tire. Share it with your beast, and then drink some for yourself. It will refresh from your exertions,” he instructed, producing a crystal-clear vial with a texture that gave the suggestion of ice rather than glass, handing down magnanimously to the child before him. Fenn took it from Sir Aengus with open-mouthed awe, peering closely at what it contained. A deep blue liquid sloshed within, flecked with specks of periwinkle. The whole of it shimmered curiously with the brightness of magic.

“Water your mount first,” Aengus prompted gently. “Give her only a quarter. The rest is for yourself.”

As Fenn ran off to do just that, the hunter looked away in a way that seemed… unhappy. If the boy hadn't been to excited to show this new treat to his friend -- Daugi really did deserve something nice -- then he might have tried to puzzle that odd action out.

Where Fenn had last left his fluffy friend, she had staunchly stayed. The direwolf remained pensive and aloof from the gathering, ignoring the other animals and riders alike except for the rare, irked growl when any stepped too close. Yet, she pricked up at the light fweeeeet of a small, brass whistle. Her snarl receded slightly on sight of her boy-pup. “Wuff,” she greeted hesitantly, still giving a dark look to the creatures gathered around them. Fenn gave her quick pat on the snout -- her tail gave a wiggly wag at that -- and uncorked the vial Aengus had given him. Tilting her head at the new object, Daugi’s curiously flicking ear seemed to be asking a question; treat?

Treat, Fenn cheerfully confirmed with a motion of his free hand.

The wolf snuffled the lip of the bottle and allowed Fenn to pour a pinch of the liquid onto her tongue. Daugi smacked it curiously, her lips curling at the taste. It reminded Fenn fondly of that time he had tried to give her honey. She had spent an hour trying to get it off the roof of her mouth!

After snarfing down the odd blue liquid, Daugi blinked tiredly and yawned. Her single working eyelid twitched heavily. Giving Fenn a woozy nuzzle under his chin, she collapsed in a limp pile of matted fluff. Oh dear. Fenn tilted his head in concern and gently prodded her with a toe. The wolf let out an ugly snore. Though it was good that she was getting some rest, it brought a prickly thought to Fenn’s mind. He hadn't pushed her too hard on the way up the mountain, had he? He hoped not. They would have to take the trip down more gently, he decided. After crouching to give her a quick hug around the neck, Fenn started trudging his way back to his new friend Aengus.

Since the vial was open now, of course, he also chugged down the remainder of the odd drink. Patience had never been one of his virtues.

It was a very strange drink, and much more bracing than Fenn had expected. He winced and nearly coughed out his swig. What what this even made out of? Its taste was strongly reminiscent of pepper, cinnamon, and something a bit more earthy -- moss? Ew. It was also bright, magic-bright, which just felt weird inside his mouth.

...was it just him, or was he starting to feel funny?

Fenn stopped paving his way through the snow and poked the tip of nose; it felt tingly, tingly in that sparky electric way his legs did whenever he slept on them for too long. His extremities all felt tingly like that.

The bottle slipped from Fenn’s grasp as the tingling worked its way down his body. His fingers felt like sausages. He found that his limbs were becoming as heavy as lead. Collapsing to his knees, his hands, and then completely into the snow, it felt surprising that he wasn't sinking into the rock underneath as well. Panic swelled in his chest. This wasn't right. Fenn twitched his hands at the snow in front of him, too weak to force himself back up. This situation was familiar. Frighteningly so.

“We can talk about that later,” a woman with fiery hair purred, pushing his drink closer to him. “Let’s drink and enjoy each other’s company. You do drink, right Fennik? Since, you’re not a child.”

Fenn nodded resolutely and grinned, pleased that she would say that. He loved that she had remembered that.

“Good.” She took a swing of her drink, and he took a swig of his. It was a bit bitter, causing him to scrunch his face, but he wouldn’t complain...

Oh fuck.

The masks of the hunters swirled above Fenn, suddenly surrounding him. An angry hiss seeped out of him as his vision blackened. Why was this happening? Where had he gone wrong here? The cheerful banter of the hunters slowly petered out. The last thing the boy saw clearly was the triumphant piggish face of the fuzzy snow-creature staring down at him, breathing heavily as it clutched its matted chin. “My lady will be delighted by this, ohhh, yes,” Knarl crooned.

“I must ask. What issue has she with this boy?” Aengus spoke up, his tongue lashing quick with restrained concern and anger. Fenn couldn't make out his face. He couldn’t even form a rude gesture to express his anger at this betrayal. The lead hunter continued speaking. “Her reasons must be strong. Regent Oisin sent us to a glorious hunt, not an abduction.”

“Our business, outsider. You’ll get to go back to your hunt soon enough. As for the boy, he will be fine, for the time being. Codladh maith....”