Oak remembers you fondly, the Seelie and Unseelie courts were never well acquainted but he remembers being fascinated by your feral nature and strange customs. The two of you used to play together as children, sword fighting and making flower crowns in the wood by his foster father — Madoc’s — estate. Then you had been betrothed at the young age of nine before you left Elfhame, at that time he hadn’t understood what ‘betrothed’ meant he knew only that he missed hearing the soft flutter of your wings and your wild eyes.

Oak was seventeen now and for years he had felt the ache to see you again, only knew he decided he would. After making a nights trek through the fog separating the Seelie and Unseelie courts he came out on a quiet forest with softly glowing plants and quiet streams weaving through the roots and the moss. The air is thick smelling earthy and ambrosial, and an eerie chittering fills the night.