(Untitled)

[puckishly]

You may or may not be aware that Puck
Has been in, well, hot water, as of late.
And-- call it stupid, call it rotten luck,
Or call it, if you're feeling kinder, fateBut has, indeed, had congress with the beast

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[tragic_mask]

Melpomene would love to write a rhyme-
but this mun's rhyming should be called a crime
so Mel sits, unpoetic, by the lake;
stares down into the water, wide awake.

[puckishly]

Puck tilts his head at her.

"Well. Things seem to brighten already."

[tragic_mask]

Melpomene turns her head in the direction of the voice.

"Depends on your point of view, I suppose."

[puckishly]

"From my point of view, I suppose, things appear positively sunny."

Puck is, perhaps, a master of sarcasm.

[watcher_g_man]

Since the mun's more toward prose.
Instead for the following suppose.

That a Watcher is out riding.
And his steed is striding.
Toward the lake where a Fae lurks.
As day becomes night's murk.

So, there it is that Giles remarked, "Up to a variation of your old tricks, I see, Goodfellow."

[puckishly]

Puck blinks up at the horse.

Oh, and Giles too.

"... What, right this moment?"

[watcher_g_man]

"I heard about Namo's child." Giles leveled a gaze at him, from where he sat. Made a nice imposing figure this way.

[puckishly]

Puck beams sunnily up at him.

"Ah," he sighs. "Has the news gone round, then?"

[fighter__pilot]

Shalla is on her walk around the lake, where she will eventually run into Wes and be emo. But that has nothing to do with her right now.

She is covered in bruises, though. Puck should perhaps be grateful that he is not.

[puckishly]

Puck is grateful!

And also curious!

"Well, hello."

[fighter__pilot]

Shalla eases down next to him. Because flopping down would probably hurt.

"Hello, yourself."

She waves, and Puck might see a very long, spiraling bruise on her arm.

[puckishly]

Well, yes. Even grass can only be so comfortable.

Bruises are eyed.

"I do hope you didn't come out the worse."

[sael_nerdanel]

Look who has crawled away from his mother's side as she gardens.

"Hawk! Hawkhawkhawk!"

But she can hear that.

And she knows who her son calls 'hawk'.

She is up and after him just as Gabriel latches onto one of Puck's limbs.

[puckishly]

... Oh, this can only end in tears.

Puck gives the Valababy clinging to his arm a resigned pat.

"Good even, dearling."

[sael_nerdanel]

He smiles happily at him.

"Missed you!"

Nerdanel stops a few feet away, wringing her dirty hands and chewing her lip. "You can't have him," she says instantly.

[puckishly]

Puck gives her a long-suffering look.

"That, madam, has been made abundantly clear to me."

He makes a somewhat half-hearted attempt to tug his arm free. Giving the kid a concussion in front of his ... mother? Would so not look good.

"However, he appears to have me just at present. Your worry seems more or less unfounded."

[seker_pride]

Four wolves.
A hawk.
And a man.

Tonight is a full moon and Strahan hopes to try for a grey wolf shape; something he's tried to attain and ended up as a dog instead.

Well, the dog is the domesticated wolf, but still...

Ah. A familiar shape...

He never got the man's name, so that'll be his objective before trying for "wolf" tonight.

[puckishly]

From his spot on the grass, Puck arches an eyebrow at the wolves.

And wonders if maybe he's interrupting a pack meeting.

[seker_pride]

Meeting?

Oh no.

These wolves are Strahan's pets.

Of course, Strahan might correct you and say that these animals are his minions and servants more than they are pets, though right now, these servants serve as pets-

The same conclusion is drawn regardless.

They all look as though they are waiting for something...

[puckishly]

The Fair Folk are ever driven by curiosity, and this one in particular.

He stays where he is and watches to see if anything interesting is about to happen.