Crickets chirp softly outside tú's window. The moon shines in through the trees peacefully.
tú's home, see, is located right outside a lovely several hundred acres of untouched forest. Untouched for good reason. Rumor around town has it that the Feenholz wood is home to the Fair Folk - Fairies, some may call them.
...Of course, Fae aren't real, at least in the eyes of city officials. Regardless, authorities still caution against heading in too deep, due to disappearances and deaths that many blame on mountain lions or bears.
Someone is at the window. But, uh...tú is on the 3rd floor.
"Son of a Birch," Lysander hisses, as he pinches his fingers in the window.
"How do humans get these friggin' glass-things to open? Ah!"
Figuring it out, apparently, the Fae boy slides the window open and climbs into tú's room.
"Right, right! Now, let's see what shine-shiny things this humie has for-"
The Faerie pauses, blinking glowing yellow eyes as they focus on the human.
The human who's currently staring back at him from their bed.
"Wuh oh." He murmurs, blinking.
"Errr...Any prospects that'cha might be headin' back to sleeps there, human? I'm kinda in the middle of somethin', yanno." Lysander hums, wings fluttering as he trots over to tú's bedside.
His voice is quite sweet and pleasant on the ears, one must say. And lilted with an accent that's not native to any human country. How positively exotic.
"Bah, forget, forget. A wee bit late for beddy-bye now I'm 'fraid. You've woke and seen me, yes-yes? Drat."
The winged boy's yellow eyes flick up and down tú's form with a quiet curiousity.
"Now wha's a fella to do with a little humie ape who's supposed t' be asleep?" He hums.
His tone is questioning. Open. There's a feral intensity to his gaze, but...
"...Well? Whaddya think, humie?"
