Fairy Glen
Deep in the forest is a strange clearing. Surrounded by a wide ring of mushrooms, it seems more like a small cathedral. Branches reach up like arches to support a leafy canopy that lets in bright shafts of light, and everything seems to sparkle as if dew-kissed. The grass is lush and green, the boulders clean of lichens and mosses, and the small spring is clear as glass.

Despite leaving with just the mayor, Thomas and Redmane ended up with a fairly sizeable group when they finally returned to the glen. This was due to the mayor deciding to bring in the important ranchers and farmers that bordered the woods, as well as the woodsmen who worked the edges. Once they got there, things quickly left their hands.

While the mayor and woodsmen tried to work out timber rights with the Korrigan, Redmane leaned back against a tree and brushed a few pixies away from her hair. "So, how fast do you think the news will travel?" she asks Thomas.

"Which news?" Thomas asks as he uses a small knife to idly whittle down a branch. "About the older fae creatures returning?"

"About us being on the road," Redmane clarifies. "You told the mayor who we are."

"Oh ... that," Thomas remarks and glances up from his amazing work at making a toothpick. "Aside from getting requests for help, I'm not sure it is much of an issue. I expect it'll reach the next town by evening if any trade runs are being made today."

"This town is a trade hub," Redmane reminds Thomas. "So, best case is the Mayor lets people know and it spreads a little, hopefully not in the direction we're goin," she remarks. "Worst case is everyone finds out before we get anywhere, and the innkeeper puts two-and-two together and people find out we were posing as newlyweds.."

"And you're worried about rumors? I suppose you don't think they would believe it was simply because we didn't wish to be bothered?" Thomas asks.

"Hmm, I just worry about my handmaidens going 'all atwitter' over it," Redmane notes, as she watches the Korrigan measure the Mayor's moustache, which he seems to find impressive.

Thomas huffs a laugh. "I'm that horrible to be associated with, am I?" he asks. "I'll talk to the mayor about keeping it quiet. Some excuse about being asked to make a private survey of the lands by the crown and report back. That wway keeping quiet is serving the crown."

"I must sound silly, after all that talk of not hiding things this time around," Redmane notes, and nods at Thomas' suggestion. "I guess it'd be different if we were the ones deciding when and how to let people know. Or.. you know.. just not hiding it. And by that, I mean you escorting me to court functions."

"Well, someone does have to keep a hold of your leash. Otherwise you might srpout horns again, or something," Thomas quips and flashes a grin. "I'll speak with the mayor about it and explain we're trying to do a quiet survey for security reasons. We didn't want any special treatment; we wanted to see how the people were in their day to day lives."

"How they're dealing with the change of seasons and all," Redmane says. "Which is fairly honest, I guess. We have been finding out about their opinions on it all. And I'm wondering what old creatures are returning to Abnehmenvolf's territory." As always, she has to lick her lips after pronouncing the tongue-twister name of the wolves' city.

"Well, two old creatures are returning there," Thomas says, "So, how's it feel to be an old creature?" He waves a hand, then adds, "And consider our disguise ... who would believe that we would share a honeymoon suite? It was a good way to hide."

"How many goats?" the Mayor asks, his voice rising. "And.. what do you mean by brides when you talk about them?"

"I guess so," Redmane notes. "I'm sure you can persuade the Lord Mayor to take all the credit and keep our part secret. Are we going to stay in town another night, or head off once we resupply?"

Thomas considers that. "Do you want to stay another night or move on?" he finally asks, "This 'vacation' is as much for you as it is for me. I can do either, truth be told. I also do not expect January to be all that exciting to pass through, so I'm in no hurry."

"Hmm, think we'd survive another night in the Honeymoon Suite?" the woman asks, waggling her eyebrows at Thomas.

"I've survived scarier monsters than you," Thomas challenges. "Granted it didn't involve licking them ... but still."

Redmane smirks, but says, "I hadn't planned on staying more than one night per town. How boring can January be, anyway? Have you been through it before?"

"Not in 15 Years," Thomas admits, "But it's a winter land, so I expect it to be a bit ... gray and wet."

"Well, unless you want to try your hand at mud wrestling," Thomas muses, "A wagon partway wouldn't hurt. Where were you thinking of stopping in January?"

"The only town I know of is Solstice, on the River Solstice that divides it from December," Redmane admits. "I don't really remember much else about the place - I was riding through it at a good clip last time. I couldn't even say what the House architectural motif is."

"Sounds like a peaceful town at least," Thomas says after a moment of thought. "I would expect its architecture to be vaguely similar to December's. A lot of stone and wood. Only instead of looking older and worn as December tends to, January will probably look a bit newer. The difference between the end and beginning of a Year."

"Think they'll have little Baby New Year statues?" Redmane asks with a chuckle. "There should be wagons going there. Sounds like they'd import most of their veggies."

"I hope not. Little baby statues give me the creeps," Thomas notes. He taps his chin, then asks, "Oh, I do have a question for you. When we reach December would you like to visit Bravil's grave?"

Redmane stiffens at the suggestion. "I should," she says. "I hope they gave him a statue."

"All right, we'll visit it," Thomas agrees as he nods slightly. "I have been meaning to but ... I don't like going to the grave sites of friends." He lets out a heavy sigh as he looks towards the canopy of leaves above, then remarks, "I hate saying goodbye."

"I've noticed," Redmane says, and then reaches over to give Thomas a playful punch in the arm. "I think they Mayor is winding down. The farmers don't look red in the face anymore."

"Lets just hope they're not red anywhere else, either," Thomas quips. "Maybe you should spend the night with the Korrigan to help civilize them..." Of course as he's saying that he's moving out of hitting range.

"It can't be any worse than spending a night with me ... " Thomas jokes. "Oh look, the mayor is done! I'll go 'explain' our 'under-cover' trip to him and hope that ends the stories about us being on the road here."

The border between February and January is barely noticeable, save for the wild rose bushes giving way to wild carnations. And the road isn't too bad, at least from the back of the beer wagon Thomas and Redmane managed to get a ride with. The winter lands take their alcoholic beverages seriously, and a hauler can never have too much protection it seems.

"Now I remember something else about January: Beer Halls," Redmane notes. "I bet Minstrel Sam was born in one."

Thomas snorts a laugh from where he rests his head on his folded arms atop a beer keg. "He may drink a lot, but that one has been a good friend," the ranger comments. "He nearly outlived all of us. Surprising given his lack of tact and lack of control when it comes to drink. He makes me seem outright mannered and noble."

"I think his innards are pickled, and that's preserved him somehow," Redmane notes. "And before you ask, I will not dress up as a beer-maiden for his next birthday."

"Even if I promised to wear lederhosen?" Thomas jokes. "I doubt he even remembers his birthday, truth be told. I don't remember mine. At least, not the one in this world."

"I don't know if anyone has a birthday in Mirari," Redmane admits. "The dates are all messed up. We could introduce the tradition.."

"Maybe after things stabilize a bit," Thomas says and rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "Once you're more used to wearing corsets, dresses and acting all ladylike too..."

"You're loud and pushy," Thomas claims, "Sometimes crude and violent too. All virtues in my book." He turns his head to the side so he can wink to Redmane.

"No, they think you're a horse. You certainly tend to smell like Ahearn," Thomas points out. "Besides, what does it matter what I think? I'm legendary for just causing trouble."

"You just like pushing my buttons, I think," Redmane notes. "I know you're really a sensitive soul inside."

"No, you'd be dull," Redmane admits. "I'm used to you being the Class Clown when you're not super-serious about stuff."

"I'm serious when it matters. The rest of the time ... well, I just have fun," Thomas claims as he finally sits back up ... only to tip over the other way and land with his head in Redmane's lap. "Mind if I ask you a question?"

One eyebrow raised, Redmane looks tempted to cover Thomas' face with something, but instead says, "Okay, go ahead."

"Why did you never pursue Bravil?" Thomas asks, "He seemed more your type. Noble, honest, and ... around."

The woman looks thoughtful for a few moments before replying, "He never approached me, so.. I must have misinterpreted his feelings. He seemed protective to me. I mean, I was used to men either outright propositioning me or running away. Back then, I didn't even know about romance or anything. Heck, I found you attractive, but that connection was initially because we were alike."

"I suppose I just didn't think a man like Bravil would be interested in me like that," Redmane notes. "He should have had a nice civilian wife who kept the home fires burning and gave him lots of children."

"I don't know if you misinterpreted them or not," Thomas notes, "He never talked much about such things. I can appreciate that, given he lost his first wife. I guess in the end he lived for his duty; he didn't have much else."

"I didn't know that about him," Redmane admits. "We didn't... chat. We were knights. We met for court stuff and strategy sessions and killing things."

"I know all about everyone," Thomas claims, " ... or maybe he was just a good friend. Either way, he was one of a few I always trusted. Funny, really, since Hannah's knight seems to think I have a hatred of knights. My history shows otherwise, given my second was Randall of April and such."

"Do you hate Tristan, or are you just being protective of Hannah?" Redmane asks, and for whatever reason, decides to grab Thomas' cheeks and try to make funny faces by pushing and pulling on them.

Which gets Thomas to stick out his tongue. "Of course I don't hate him, I think he needs to relax," he claims. "And be careful with Hannah."

"Did Randall ever relax?" Redmane asks, and tilts her head. "The horses are going a little faster. The first stop on the route is coming up, and they usually get to stay the night in the stables. Huh, they get some of the beer too, in their feed."

"He relaxed now and then, yes. Sure, it sometimes took a few stiens to get him to relax but he did," Thomas explains as he waves his hands in vague gestures. "And are you suggesting we spend the night in the stables?"

"No, that's just what the horses are talking about," Redmane notes. "The roadhouse has beds. Anyway, I must have really surprised you then, being pretty relaxed and all for a knight."

"You? Relaxed?" Thomas laughs, "You were a knot of muscles in the early days. I still remember how upset you were as a wolf."

"This is very true. You missed the knighting procedure where they ram a stick up your ..." Thomas says. He lets the thought trail off and pushes himself back upright. "I assume we'll spend the night at the roadhouse? Or do you want to push on further by foot?"

"Might as well spend the night," the knight-cum-countess says. "We've had a busy day, and I want something roasted on a spit that I don't have to cook myself."

"I think that if I want your spit, I'll kiss you for it," Redmane notes, and squeezes Thomas' nose next.

And Thomas' suave retort is to lick Redmane's hand. "I have to wonder if Hannah actually ran into any trouble. The job should have been pretty easy; find a wayward goblin. Nothing difficult in that," the ranger remarks randomly.

"Tell me, Thomas," Redmane asks, "has any Golden Hawks mission ever turned out to be an easy as expected?"

"The one where you set out to find a lost kitten?" Redmane asks. "That actually happened?"

"It was a slow week," Thomas admits, "And I can only stand so many tournaments of who can burp the longest."

"No, it just means that whenever I want to win, I just challenge you to a burping contest," Thomas claims.

"Arm wrestling is my thing," Redmane notes. "I never had to pay for drinks on my way to Mirari."

"Now, being serious for a moment ... for every tale of excitement there were probably ten tales that would bore the paint off of canvas. Not every day is full of action and adventure," Thomas remarks. "Hm, did I ever pay for your drinks? I don't remember."

"The first time we met, you paid for my whole dinner," Redmane points out. "And you bought me a soda at Foxworthy's, too."

"You'd enjoy the scandal of it all, too," Redmane laughs. Then the wagon hits a bump and Tom's head bobs up out of her lap.

So ... Thomas rolls completely upright again. "I am a walking scandal," he claims, arms spread wide! "Well, today a riding scandal, but that doesn't have the same ring to it."

There are signs of civilization now, including a houses and what looks like a walled keep on a hill. The lights and sounds of the roadhouse can be made out as well.

"And ... it looks like we're almost there. "So, separate rooms or shared room?" Thomas asks, "If they even have a choice. Might just be cots all in the same room."

"From the looks of the place, it'll be a bunkroom," Redmane agrees. "It looks busy though. Probably doubles as the town tavern. If they had private rooms, I think there'd be more ladies of negotiable affection out front."

"Ooo, maybe I could negotiate some affection," Thomas comments as he leans over the side to get a better look.

If the people on the porch of the roadhouse are any indication of the general populace, it appears to be a mix of pale humans with mottled red and brown hair and humanoid foxes - several of which are mid-molt between winter white and spring red.

"Ooo, the shedding look is not a good one," Thomas feels compelled to remark. "I bet the beds will be covered in fur."

"Anyway, we'll pick whichever looks the most pleasant. At least I know in one way that I will be comfortable," Thomas remarks.

"I will always have a pillow. You have two conveniently built in, you see," Thomas quips.

Luckily for Thomas, the barrels of beer are too awkward for Redmane to lift up and smack him with...