The long road home.

[catch]

And, here, was a crossroads - a dilemma. Not that he was not enjoying himself, brief flares of pleasure that were such a rare thing in his long, terrible life, a word that held little meaning to him. As quick as they came, they were gone, and the little fox crouched against the ground, its blue eyes wild, wary, yet increasingly bored. Boredom. That was the word. Boredom at petty little hurts, bored of Zilliah's weakness, bored of the Constable's concern. Appearing as a beast has amused him; now he toyed with finding other amusements,

If this was not Zilliah, then he would have simply killed them and left.

As it was, the fox straightened, and sat, and his trim, little muzzle moved between Zilliah and Constable. As suddenly as it had appeared, the fox was gone. This was another amusement, another game, for wouldn't they debate, and question, and be their timid, wretched selves? Yet, what they needed was now directly in front of them. An ass, a pretty, sturdy little thing, his coat cream-white, his face delicate and very nearly rabbit-like. He turns his limpid, pretty eyes to them, so that he may sup on their reaction, and the little beast stands still, tame as a rock.

[Jirai]

Here stands Constable Breve, supporting an unconscious fae and watching a creepy fairy-fox turn into a donkey. The woman blinked. Looked away, looked back. No, it was still there.

This was not how she had planned on spending her day off.

"I swear, if I find out Henderson put mushrooms in my porridge this morning..." The constable muttered to herself, scowling first at the animal-thing, and then at the unconscious fae. "Well, why not?" Still talking to herself, Alla started dragging the fae towards the donkey. "I hope you stand still for this. At least there's no one around to see if this goes horribly wrong." And the constable would try to sling the unconscious fae over the creature's back.

[catch]

Zilliah is light, a feather against his skin. And he does consider, so he does. Taking the fae far away, before the constable could respond. Taking his time with Zilliah. Time, until he had grown bored with the screams, and put out the thousand-year lights in the fae's eyes.

Not nearly enough time. Even the immortals of this world were fragile.

So he grunts, as if Zilliah was, truly, a great weight. And he waits for Breve, ignoring her chatter for what it was - chatter - with no indication that he understood at all.

A small, needling amount of curiosity. That would spare Zilliah, for the moment. He was curious in the ways he could haunt the fae.

[Jirai]

Well, the beast hadn't run off with the fae. Or kicked her skull in. That was good, right? "...Good donkey. Fox. Thing." Damned magic. Damned fae. "...Alright, come along." Watching to see if it would follow, the constable began moving back towards town.

[catch]

He is quiet. he is docile.

In his mind, he is anything but.

With slow, dainty steps, the delicate creature follows the Constable, pert, soft nose at her elbow.

He is not quite loud enough to be heard with ears - but through his body, Zilliah - were he in his mind, if he had his senses - could feel the gentle, satisfied hum of the beast.