By the time the troll skald has finished it has gotten late, and people are breaking up. Tomorrow looks to be a somewhat subdued Hangover Day.
Agh, Larrikan and Locha are thanking the trolls for the story when Gralamen approaches them. He has a somewhat wide-eyed young man in tow. Gralamen tells the boy, “These are the Shy Folk.”
Looking entirely awed by the collection of unusual people around him, the young man nods and approaches the foxes. Speaking clearly and carefully, he says, “I am sorry to have caused so much difficulty. Thank you for your help finding me. I appreciate it, and know my parents did, too. They were too frightened to thank you.”
Agh smiles, not even wincing, and tells the young man, “We are happy you are safe. You must not feel bad for things other people do; you can only take responsibility for your own actions.”
The young man nods solemnly.
Locha steps forward and gives the young man a hug. She tells him, “You make your family proud. Go and be the best you can.”
Blushing at the vixen’s hug, the young man replies, “Thank you.” He tells Gralamen, “Thank you, sir. That is all I needed to take care of.”
The half-elf smiles, pleased, and says, “We are off, then.” and leads the young man away.
The Gather over, the Shy Folk set off traveling again, except for Larrikan. The pain of loneliness the first few days is strong, but Larrikan sets it aside to study, work, and work on his words. After a week or so it fades to a manageable ache.
The classes continue. Larrikan excels at magic, struggles with history and writing, and passes unstable mathematics, at least the first course.
He attends the rades, not missing any, and learning how to get the most energy without being eaten. His friends the pixies help with that.
One summer morning, Larrikan tells Coldwillow he has some things to take care of, and sets off into the forest. He has a vague idea where to go, and plenty of woodcraft to help him.
As he hoped, he is able to track down the pixies’ home tree. Knowing they will kill anyone they think a threat, he does not challenge, or even try and greet them.
He knows they are there, watching, wary, fearful of betrayal. He doesn’t betray them, or threaten them.
He settles at the base of one of their trees and sings. He sings cheerful ballads, love songs, and nursery rhymes. He unpacks his sack, and sets out lots of food, cheese and wine, clearly to share.
After singing all day, Larrikan camps there, under watchful, unseen pixie eyes.