A tiny dead beat lets out a soft coo as it heads in the direction of the changeling's woods, a small box clutched to its chest. It is wrapped in various shades of green, a pale white bow made out of daisy petals delicately decorating the top with a note attached to it. It appears a certain petal ghost wanted to craft something for the occasion, albeit a day late. He had sent the small spirit on ahead with the intent of surprising her later, hoping they would find her well. -petallockedspectre
The woods are still alive, bright and vibrant. A few bonfires still burning, a couple from the Beltaine festivities, and a couple for Tierney’s own special day. The fact that the two are one and the same doesn’t seem to matter that much to the denzins of the woods, characters who are just thrilled that they have an excuse to make the festivities even brighter, bolder. But now, it’s nearly over.
Many are still celebrating, songs and cheer still in the air, but it’s a day or so later, and Tierney has never enjoyed a big party.
So she’s glad that it’s all winding down and she can go back to how things normally are. Or mostly, those who missed the celebration will likely be popping in to give her gifts at some point. Birthdays are important after all, life is something to be celebrated(as is death). She just doesn’t enjoy a huge celebration that lasts an entire day.
Hearing the small coo, she pauses, in her walk, the flickering flame behind her illuminating her. She smiles at the sound, and settles down to wait.
