There is a single light in the garden.
And that makes no sense. The moon is new, resting one more night before returning to shine, so the fairy lanterns and blooming flowers should be the only glow.
But this, this is no summer light casting flickering shadows across the form holding it.
For a moment Roselyn thinks its a ghost;
A soul trapped between this world and theirs;
Between the past and the present;
Between the night and day.
But the ghost standing in the garden is not a ghost at all.
Ghosts don't leave footprints in the soil, carefully left between flowers.
Roselyn opens the door, the cool night air wrapping around her, far colder then it should be this deep in the summer. But, perhaps, now that the sun has set, her flowers dimmed, winter has come.
"Would you like a cup of tea?" she calls.
A mouse scurries up their arm to perch on the lantern, nose in the air as if already asking where it is.
The not ghost doesn't say anything, only stare at her a moment longer, blinking speckled galaxy like eyes. Slowly, finally, they break the stillness with a nod, wolf like ears twitching. The mouse chitters.
"Come in, dear, out of the cold." Not that they could be cold, with the raven feathers wrapped around their shoulders. Roselyn steps back inside to begin the familiar motions of making tea. They blow the lantern out and hang it by the door, their steps silent. Roselyn notes that it's only a cloak, dusted in blue.
She can feel their eyes carefully tracking her from the doorway as she brews the drinks.
More then enough camomile.
"Sit," she commands gently, placing two cups on the table and doing so herself.
A teacup shaped like a rose.
A carved brown mug, glazed in frost.
And give the mouse a cracker from a plate on the table.
"Drink, dear. Perhaps it will lead you home." They wrap their hands around the mug, their nails more like broken claws, cobalt paint chipped.
"I do not know where home is. I don't even know where it was."
"Mayhaps, this will remind you."
"What if I do not wish it too?"
Roselyn sips her tea, searching for what to say.
The mouse puts his tiny claws on her finger, cracker gone. She gives him a sugar cube.
"Because I don't believe I ever had one."
Roselyn sets the teacup down. Home, is many things, different things, to different people.
When it is lost, you never stop searching for it again. She offers the mouse another sugar. He happily snatches it from her fingers, but instead of scurrying away he settles on her hand.
"Home can be as simple as a cup of tea, or-" she reaches across the table to set the mouse on their shoulder "- a mouse by your side." They turn their face to the mouse, who runs his nose against their cheek. The Wolf's ears perk as yelling echoes from deeper in the Manor.
Someone must have been caught cheating at uno again. They really should reconsider game nights, they never end well.
She doesn't keep popcorn in her kitchen.
Amelia has it stored away in her pantry.
Oh, well. This is where she's supposed to be.
They don't say more, all that's to be said, said.
The Wolf lets the mouse drink from their cup-
before setting it down and standing.
Roselyn does not ask where they are going, does not ask them to stay. They are welcome to, of course, but it seems the woods are calling, the lantern next to the door lit once more.
The Wolf's journey is lonely.
And all she can offer is a cup always waiting in the cupboard for their return.
Roselyn wraps her shawl around herself, stepping off the porch, meeting the Wolf in the path.
They tilt their head, not quite in thanks, but it is enough. The mouse squeaks goodbye as they leave the garden behind, the only thing left of them dusty footprints of bare feet and a lipstick print on a mug.
"Ma'Róisín?" a honey voice calls from inside.
"You've taken your time to get popcorn, I got worried," Hanata says taking her hand. Roselyn lets her shawl go, a warm summer breeze playing with her hair.
"The Manor had other ideas."
The lantern light fades into the shadows.
"Just a Wolf passing through."
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