The rustle of leaves deep within the enchanted woods, just outside the small Veronan kingdom, signals the presence of fairy and fae-folk alike. It's clear from the turbulence the king and his good wife are at odds yet again.

"Poor majesty," a lithe young man pouts dramatically, hand brushing alongside the muscular arms oft he face king himself. Oberon is sat on a wooded seat, formed of a large tree root, and Puck lays haphazardly against him. "She is so cruel to Puck's king. Do forget her words, she must bend to your judgment, you are king. But even then, what difference would giving into her needs really make? It would allow her to go busy herself while you enjoy time unbothered." He coos.

Oberon huffs and rolls his eyes. "What a foolish notion, giving into her whims makes me seem weak, as though behaving like a child will always allow her her way." Adjusting his position to lean back, he allows himself to relish in Pucks nimble fingers. "A terrible blight she can be-"

Puck clicks his tongue, before snuggling up to his king, eyes lidded with his usual mischevious grin. "Puck knows what may bring his sire relief, if only he'd allow..."

As Oberon rolls his eyes, but with a grin that displays no real malice, a rustle catches their attention. Something in the woods, a mortal. They wander as if lost.

"Pretty thing..." the king muses, and Puck's eyes follow his.

"Indeed. A bit on the thinner side perhaps, but Puck has heard the mortals are enduring a famine." He suddenly giggles. "Perhaps due to your lady wife's temper?" Puck squints to look at the mortal, watching the way they've caught his masters attention. "Shall Puck fetch the plaything, master?" He asks, eyes wide with hope. With a wave of his hand, Oberon nods and sends him off.