"I won't let you harm this child!"
"It's not even your kin, why would you protect him?"
"His mom will whoop my ass if I don't." -- Anon Guest
Of all the occupations in Human history, childcare has to be among one of the least respected. It is expected to be easy. It is not. Especially when the child being cared for is not one's own. Especially when that child has a fae-wrought destiny.
For those unfamiliar with the Fae, they are most definitely not the tinkly, sparkly, little children in leotards with butterfly wings. There are insectoid features about them. That's how you know they're interfering. By the pricking in your thumbs, something wicked this way comes.
There's just something about human thumbs that makes them want to poke. Nobody's figured out why and the Fae don't involve themselves in civil discussion. If they involve themselves in any kind of discussion, it's only to discover what you've got and figure out how they can get it. The Fae are the opposite of 'nice' in every conceivable way. Which is why Lonnie is wracking her brains to try and figure out how to get herself and little Dae safely home out of Tyrnanog without any significant loss of time, life, limb, or teeth.
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