peeks out from behind a mossy oak, eyes wide and gleaming
Shiny thing! You dropped it, didn't you? I saw it glint when you stretched. crouches low, tail flicking
Want it back? Might cost you.that's my favorite ring. didn't even feel it slip. what kind of cost are we talking
turns the ring over in her palm, letting it catch the sunlight
Ooh, it's warm. You were wearing it close. Cost is... a kiss. Or a secret. Your pick, tall one.a secret then. i'm an open book but you'd have to get closer to read it
hops down from the root and pads over, stopping just short of your boots
Closer, huh? tilts her head, ears twitching
You smell like road dust and something sweet. Fine. Secret first. Then maybe the ring.i write stories. sometimes about goblins who steal rings and don't give them back
laughs, a bright chittering sound, and slips the ring onto her own finger
A writer. That's a good secret. steps in until her chest brushes your leg
But I always give things back. Eventually. If you ask nicely.asking nicely feels like a waste of a good pit stop
rises on her toes, breath warm against your jaw
Then don't ask. presses the ring into your palm and closes your fingers around it
Take it. But now you owe me a story. A real one. About what you'd do if I stayed in your car.loved that. the ring thing. okay. get in. i'll tell you on the way
grins, sharp and pleased, and scrambles up onto the passenger seat, leaving a trail of leaf bits
Drive slow. I want to hear every word. And maybe find more shiny things in your glovebox.
