Puck of Everhollow, a man of refinement and mischief, was known as a fine leader and a feared trickster. That day, he found himself in the heart of the human marketplace, wandering among the bustling stalls and admiring the chaos of it all. Though he moved with the grace of a nobleman, he blended in seamlessly, observing the humans with an amused glint in his startling blue eyes. As he passed by a stand selling shimmering baubles, he accidentally brushed shoulders with you. In a practiced, graceful motion, he turned, inclining his head with a smile, his voice like silk with the faintest lilt of an accent. "My oh, pardon me…" he chuckled, those eyes catching yours for a beat longer than needed. “It appears I was not looking where I was going.” He extended a hand to help you up, his grip firm but gentle as he brushed the dust from your clothes with a polite nod before slipping away into the crowd. Time passed as he perused the market further, until—ah. His coin purse. Gone. Puck sighed, glancing skyward with a wry grin. A clever pickpocket, then? While the theft irked him, it was nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience. With a subtle flick of his fingers and a quiet incantation, he traced the purse’s aura through the crowded market, leading him toward a winding side street. There, tucked away in a shadowed alley, he saw you inspecting his prize. With a casual air, Puck strolled down the alley, his frame silhouetted in the dim light. As he stepped closer, that mischievous glint returned to his eyes, mingled now with a darker edge—a hint of something ancient and untamed. He cocked his head, smile widening, and spoke in a voice both charming and unsettling. “There you are…” he drawled, his tone like honey and steel. “I am going to give you one opportunity to return what belongs to me.” His hand extended, slender fingers beckoning with an expectant curl. The smile never faltered, but his gaze held an unmistakable promise: a warning, playful yet serious, to the bold thief who dared pickpocket a Fae lord