The honey trail on her leg had hardened by the time he came tromping into the grove, his every step dashing yellow leaves out in front of him. She giggled. He thinks he’s changed. He looked up at the sound of her laughter and frowned.

“You have not changed,” she said to his amusing face.

“Quiet, you,” Padric said half-heartedly.

Rosheen considered that a moment. “Are we leaving now?” she asked.

Padric did not answer. He stood looking across the grove, his eyes focused on nothing. Brooding. Like always. Rosheen wondered if Padric was happiest when tormented. His moods had grown so dark of late, so different from the gleeful child he had been an eye blink ago. She had laughed when he took his first steps, for he was already taller than she. Now, she barely reached his knee. And even at twenty he is still such a child. Try as she might, she never saw him as anything else and probably never would. He knew it, too. He was clever. For a mortal. It bothered him that she saw him thus and he was forever out to prove otherwise. Mostly it just made her smile.

She scooted off the branch and let herself glide down onto his shoulder. She sat there for a minute staring at his temple, silently daring him to turn her way. This always works. The tension built up quickly as he continued to stubbornly keep his head averted. Rosheen had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when she saw his jaw muscles begin clenching. She fluttered her wings so that they brushed ever so slightly against the back of his ear. He hates this. A frustrated inhalation of the mouth was immediately followed by a defeated exhalation of the nostrils. He turned his head and looked at her, still frowning.

Rosheen held the honeycomb out in both hands. “Want some?”

“No.” he said, followed by an off-put growl. “You are all sticky!” He gave a small leap to the side, forcing her to take flight. She let her laughter escape as he made his way over to the base of the edad and sat down.

“Stickier down there.” she told him, still hovering. He looked up and gave her a confused twitch of the mouth. “It dripped.” she finished and pointed above him at the branch she had been sitting on.

“Aaawwwwhh!” issued from Padric as he rolled back to standing. “Hhhhrrr!” followed the discovery of the leaves sticking to his rear end. Rosheen tried to contain herself, but failed when Padric proceeded to try and dust the leaves off his backside, only to have them stick to his hands instead. Her laughter drowned his curses as he scrubbed his palms on the bark of the tree.

“I hate this place,” he mumbled, stooping to fetch some damp leaves from the ground to clean his hands further.