Andras takes a shuddering breath and sniffles as he goes through his home silently, plucking the important items from their places and bagging them for safekeeping. Lucien bags the rest, glancing over at the youngling who has now lost both parents to Amarantha's curse and has not known a life out from under it. He knows the pain of loss all too well, but since coming to Spring has never felt truly alone.

"You should spend more time with your friends. They will be a great comfort to you, Andy."

He wipes the tears from his face, which are too quickly replaced with fresh ones, and shrugs. "Why, so they can pity me and look at me strangely? They'll only feel obliged to hang out with the fucking orphan."

Lucien goes over and clasps his shoulder. "You know that's not true. They were your friends long before your father died and will hopefully remain so long after. If not, I know for a fact that you will always have Calla. You two grew up together, you're practically attached at the hip and have been since you were mere babes.

"I know", he whispers. "But I don't want to bother her with my grief. She has enough on her plate. Her magic is getting harder for her to control and she hates it and I don't want all my problems to overshadow hers."

"You're a good friend. But I hardly think she would mind cheering up her friend. You'd do the same for her. It's give and take. You know that Tamlin and I fight a lot, but we always get over it. He saved my life, and I help him out with this Court. Not because I was obliged to, but because I wanted to. And a few centuries ago, I had a best friend. Her name was Jesminda." He smiles sadly. "We were ridiculously foolish and playful, but we had each other's backs when the other was feeling down. She was amazing."

"Was?", he asks softly.

"Yeah...was", Lucien replies quietly.

Andras looks at him, a concerned look on his face.

"She was lesser fae...we eventually fell in love, and my father found out and got to her before I did", he chokes out then clears his throat. "Shortly after, he wanted to punish me too, but I fled, and Tam took me in."

"He killed her?"

"Yes." His gaze averts from Andras and he begins cleaning up again.

"I'm sorry."

Lucien looks up at him again sadly. "Me too. But my point is that best friends share each other's burdens. Not because they have to, but because they want to. Don't take her for granted, or anyone else. Nothing is ever guaranteed, Andy. Nothing. Not even tomorrow."

He sniffs and nods weakly, wiping his face again. "I know that now."

"Why don't you go and try to have some fun, hm? I can clear out the house and I'll get some of the other males to help me. Anything that looks important we will bag for you to go through at the Manor later."

He runs a hand through his curls and shrugs. "You think I should?"

"Yes. I think you should. You have forever to grieve, believe me."

Andras nods slowly and rubs his arms. "Okay...see you later Lucien. Thanks."

"No need", he smiles sadly.

.

.

.

Andras bites his lip and looks around to make sure there are no eyes on him as he approaches the Wall. He gazes up its side before running his fingers along the rough, rocky exterior. Even if it's wrong, and he knows he could get in heaps of trouble or even worse, he can't just let his father's body rot there. He has to at least bury him if he finds him.

Puffing out his chest and feigning his confidence, he climbs one of the trees that so happens to have a branch extending over the wall. Though the barrier of magic separates the humans from the faeries, it technically doesn't keep either side out or in.

Once successfully on the branch, he shimmies himself further out until his leg can touch the top of the wall. He slowly lowers himself while grabbing the branch then quickly squats on the wall, steadying himself.

After he is sat on the top, he scoots to the edge and twists his body until he can grab the top like a ledge and drop down.

He does so successfully, though he also succeeds in severely spraining his ankle.

"Fuck!", he shouts, then clasps a hand over his mouth, breathing deeply and waiting for his body to heal it and for the pain to subside, which it does within a few moments.

It's then that he realizes that he will have to find a way back over the wall, and before nightfall.

"Fucking fuck", he groans, glancing back up at the wall and memorizing the dirt patterns, the tree branch, and the patch of moist dirt where his shoe-prints are. It seems it has rained over the Wall as well.

Brushing the small spattering of mud off his pale green jacket, he begins to move through the trees as quietly as he can, looking for any signs of his deceased father. He isn't foolish enough to believe that the humans kept him alive. Tamlin confirmed that he had felt him die through his High Lord's connection to him. This means that if he stupidly gets killed here, at least Tam will know.

He searches and searches for what seems like hours, finding nothing but other animal prints and wet leaves.

"C'mon dad...you couldn't have gotten that far in, even disguised as a wolf", he mutters.

That's when his fae hearing picks up footfalls coming towards him. Using his fae speed, he hides behind a large cluster of bushes and boulders, hedging a stream. Unfortunately for him, he realizes too late that it's a berry bush.

All he can do is curl up as much as possible, squatting on the balls of his feet, and waits for them to pass, hopefully.

Through the small openings in the bush, he can see a bright pink jacket stop in front of it, and soft humming coming from the female—woman, on this side of the wall—that has suddenly taken up residence there as she plucks some berries from it.

He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest as he tried to wait it out, his gangly limbs getting sorer by the second. Closing his eyes, he hopes she can't see his wildly blonde hair or his bony elbow sticking into the bush as he clings to his knees.

That hope goes right down the drain when she reaches in and grabs said, elbow, pulling it out and realizing it's an arm. Which earns him a shout.

"Who are you, and why are you hiding?", the shaky yet pretty voice demands.

Andras curses himself quietly and swallows, apparently having no other choice but to stand up. Which he does.

She drops her basket of berries and screams shrilly when she notices his pointed ears.

"Oh for gods' sake", he grumbles and speeds over, carefully leaning her against a tree and covering her mouth.

"Shhhh! Shhh! Please, please! I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear! Just—stop screaming."

Tears run down her face onto his hands and he swallows, removing them from her face slowly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm not gonna hurt you, I meant that. Just please don't scream."

The shorter woman trembles like a leaf as her honey-gold eyes continue to leak tears. Still, she does stay silent.

"I'm only looking for my father. He was...he was killed here. I wanted to bury his body. That's all. I didn't come to cause any harm. I know your type hates fairies, and they think we are evil, but most of us are not. We have lives, like all of you actually. I-I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. In fact, I'm probably rambling", he stammers.

The woman wipes her face slowly and swallows hard. "Y-You're not going to kill me?"

"Kill you? No. I don't even know you. I'm not interested in violence. As I said, I only want to find my dad's body."

She stays, back pressed across the tree as she surveys him, something like curiosity sparkling in her eyes now, mixed with the fear still there.

"Your ears...I've heard the legends and the stories—I've never truly seen one of you up close. And you glow", she whispers.

"Yes, my ears are pointed. The High Fae's are pointed. The glow is most likely my magic, it's sensitive to human eyes according to our schooling—anyway, have you seen the body of a large, black wolf?"

She stares at him with intrigue, barely blinking. Andras sighs and furrows his brow.

"Right, um, I'm not some experiment to ogle at, do you have the information I need or not?"

"Black wolf...no. Wait, your father is a wolf?", she asks confusedly, still frozen to her spot.

"No. Well, he was. But he's not really...it's something you wouldn't understand."

She looks up at him and crosses her arms. "Why not? Because I'm a girl?"

"Oh for fucks sake...females. All the same, thinking we are challenging their intellect because of a simple comment", he huffs.

"I dare you."

"What? Now you're daring a faerie?", he raises an eyebrow, leveling her with a stare.

Her step falters a bit, seeing how pale a green his eyes are. "I-you really are a faerie. I'm not in some sort of prank or nightmare?"

Andras can't help but roll his eyes. "No, this is very real." Glancing up, he notices the sun at the very beginning of its journey to setting. "Please, have you seen him?"

"No. Sorry...no black wolf."

"Great", he mutters. "He was shapeshifted when he died. Part of our High Lord's magic. There's this whole curse and stuff, it's a very long, complex story that you don't need to know."

"Wow...so...magic is real too then."

"Quite."

"Wow", she breathes. "And you're really not gonna kill me...or hurt me?"

"Nope. I have no reason to unless you attack me first."

"Oh, I'm not one for hunting."

"Hunting...", he shudders, an image of his father being hunted down for sports crossing his mind.

"What's your name?"

"Well, you're seemingly comfortable with me now for some reason."

"Faeries can't lie. So I know you won't hurt me."

The corner of his mouth quirks up. "What?"

He crosses her arms and stands up straight, trying to look confident. "I have nothing to worry about since you can't lie and you've said that you won't hurt me."

Andras snorts and covers a laugh with the collar of his jacket.

The woman's brow furrows. "What?"

"Who the hell told you we can't lie?"

Her face pales. "Y-You can?"

"We can do anything a human can do, just better."

The pink lad begins to step back again, fear replacing her confident demeanor again.

"But for the record, I wasn't lying about not wanting to hurt you. My name is Andras, and yours?"

"I-I can't give you my name", she sputters.

"Another human myth at play?"

"It's said that to give a faerie your name is equal to giving them your whole soul—they can twist you and use their magic to own you...to-to possess you or make you do things."

"Oh, now see, that's just overdramatic. I'm sure there are very few fae that are evil to that extent, aside from the vile female that who cursed my Court. But, I will say the only part of human lore that I know of which is true is that you should never make a bargain or a deal with the fae. That's when things get tricky. That will bind you to them until death takes one of you, or until the bargain is fulfilled. The bargain is magic itself and will mark the skin of both parties involved."

She shivers a bit and looks worried.

"But I'm still young and I hate violence."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"In fae years?"

"Well, the fully grown mature age of the fae is around seventy-five. Once we hit our twenty-fifth birthday, our magic will be at full strength, therefore slowing our hearts and causing us to age very very very slowly from then on. My High Lord is a bit over five hundred and he still looks twenty-five. If that gives you an idea. You don't start to look older until you've passed your eight-hundreds or so."

She openly gapes, jaw hanging open.

Andras cringes, thinking maybe he should have kept that to himself, until she responds.

"I'm seventeen...almost eighteen. I couldn't ever imagine living that long. Is it not boring?"

He chuckles slightly. "I don't know, I'd have to ask."

The woman bites her lip and swallows hard. "Lilly. I'm Lilly."