"But what would happen if the sorrows did suffer? Caw, caw, pipipi."
The sound of mocking words echoed out from above the two chatting fairies— sharp words, almost as if they were filled with tiny little knives.
" You should sheperd spring if you want to too! Caw, caw, pipipi."
While the wry words and mocking melodies of the rather bratty, feminine voice may have been strange to some, Erstwhile, who was all too familiar with the voice's owner, simply sighed. He supposed he'd been in one place for too long— it wasn't surprising that he was so quickly found.
"Now, now, Neverlie— be nice."
The crow— or what looked like a crow— gave a great few flaps of its wings before taking off from its perch in the tree, landing near to Erstwhile's side. But what landed wasn't a crow— another young fae, who looked almost identical to Veride— if she's been doused in black and covered barely with feathers. The the crow... or harpy-like fae, whose body was near as bare as Veride's own when she'd first appeared before Erstwhile, simply gave a huff, and a hmph.
"As you wish, my dearest king— Neverlie is never mean. Caw, caw, pipipi." Even now her tone was mocking and sarcastic— which earned her an exasperated chuckle from the Autumn king.
This... was going to be interesting to watch, if nothing else.
"But why is the king so far from home? Why does the king converse with a crone? Neverlie's pretty eyes only spy a silly, sprightly, lily, brightly. Much too gross, much too green for Tyrnalhann the Autumn King. Caw, caw, pipipi."
"Now, now, Neverlie. There's nothing wrong with sharing lands with our dearest sapling friends..." Erstwhile explained, though admittedly amused, as always, by her antics.