Imagine Puck standing at the border between the Wyldwood and the Iron Kingdom after watching Ash walk away at the end of The Iron Knight. Grimalkin is sitting at his feet, tail curled around his paws, not speaking.
A few long minutes pass, and Grimalkin finally looks up at Puck, who hasnât moved or spoken since they watched Ash disappear into the distance.
âWill you be alright?â the Cait Sith asks quietly.
Puck doesnât answer immediately, but after another long moment he breathes out a long, shaky sigh, and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand.
âYeah,â he says, not looking at Grimalkin. âItâll be fine. Theyâre gonna be together and happy, so why wouldnât I be fine?â
âBecause youâre not together with them,â Grimalkin says, even more quietly than before, âAnd youâre not happy.â
Puck doesnât respond to that, keeping his eyes fixed on a point far ahead of him, even as his shoulders start to shake slightly, and his hands close into fists at his sides.
Grimalkin watches him for a moment longer, then shifts slightly, leaning forward until his furred head bumps against the Summer feyâs leg. A soft but distinct rumble rises from his throat.
âYou did well, Robin Goodfellow,â he says softly.
Puck goes still for a second, then slowly sinks down into the grass beside the large feline, one hand over his face, and the other settling clumsily into Grimalkinâs thick fur.
The Cait Sith does not complain, and remains seated beside the Summer Jester, with that low purr rumbling in his chest. Neither of them speak again until long after the skies have darkened, and the moon has risen high enough to cast long, trailing shadows behind them as they both rise to their feet, and set off together into the depths of the Wyldwood.
