#baronyofthesilverwolf

Trina is staring.

Janice hurries over to give Frankie a hug, and one of those "hold the shoulders and look up and down" once overs that moms do.

"Moo-oooommmmmm" He complains, drawn away from his whipped creamery.

Gladiola moves over to her mom and.. hugs her. As she squeezes Marigold, she lets her mom see how tapped she is, how her mein isnt tip top

Marigold gives her a hug, and then also mirrors the same action as Janice unconsciously, though she has a LOT more of Gwen to look over. "YOU need Cocoa." She announces, and pushes the troll down onto a chair.

"Janice?"

A smile, weak but sincere. Her mom couldn't move her if she stood still or resisted, but tthat's unthinkable... so she folds to her mom's guidance like a lawn chair

The fledge wrinkle-squints in her 'kenning face'

"Thanks , mom" she says then says "Janice is one of us, or was" Sympatheic sounding

Satisfied - well not satisfied, but reassured for the moment that Frankie is well, Janice turns to look at Thistle - and she cannot help it, she gives the nocker a quick, fierce hug. "You saved my baby. I can never thank you enough."

"I'm not a baby." Says the kid with the chocolate mustache.

Marigold makes a dismayed tutting sound as to "was", but Gladiola is her concern right now, and she presses a cup of cocoa into the troll's hands. "I made it with extra love. You drink every last drop, you hear me?" Gwen can feel the warmth even through her stone fingers, warm milk, warm mother's love, and glamour, of course.

"Moms are bullies" but a smile and she drinks deep

"It's... Frankie. He's my brother."

"That (&$%&^((&$ won't touch him again."

Janice lets go, taking a step back. "I am sorry. I did not mean to be overly familiar." Her gaze downcast. "If he is well, I will take him home now. Please tell your liege to worry not of the right of ignorance, he is but a child and will remember nothing after a day, if even he saw anything..."

"Wait..." A frown. "Janice?"

"..are you enchanted? Can you... I mean.. can you see me?"

"You look different."

She swallows. "I can see you, Katrina. Thistle."

Meanwhile, a lady with bunny ears has tempted Frankie to the other side of the kitchen with cookies... leaving a free space to talk.

"Wow, okay. I.." She frowns and runs a gnarl-knuckled hand over her bright hair. "I'm sorry you got caught up in this? Frankie was.. because of me, right? That's why the.. Spirggan-guy... was there, and you know I'd never want anything to happen to him. Or you."

"The important thing is that you are both safe." She nods. "Thanks to you, and your Knight companion. ...how did you know? It was not a night when you would visit..."

"Thistle's genius is what sounded the alarm for us"

A sip

"I.. I made a thing. A sniffer, to detect spriggans."

",,,how do you know what the escheat is?"

"Why are your eyes like that?"

"My..." She closes her eyes, but a few tears, or maybe just her eyes watering, slip through. "I should return home."

"I don't understand..."

The Dairrean looks temped to blab

"Are you sure you're okay? I don't know if it's safe for you to be enchanted alone. You can stay here for a while, I'm sure. We can double check with Marigold."

"I'll text Dad? I can think of something to tell him."

She reaches out to take one of Thistle's hands in her own. Her hands are soft and smooth, and... damp? Not unpleasantly so - not cold and clammy like a Sluagh or Rusalka might look.

"I am not enchanted. I will be safe. Soon, I will forget."

"I don't..." She frowns. "What's happening?"

Thistle squeezes Janice's hands. Hers are the opposite - already calloused, with warmth under the skin like banked embers.

"I am a changeling, like you. Or, I once was. I lost my connection with that part of my soul. It is... Thistle, I am so happy that you have found yourself. I wish you all the joy that the dreaming has to offer. But it pains me to remember what once was. Please, I must go."

"You a changeling too? The Nevers like you! But you don't.. how can you know and not... that doesn't make SENSE. Is something broken?"

"I'm a nocker, we fix broken things."

"The Baron's real smart, and he has magic..."

A hand presses lightly against one of Thistle's cheeks, where the spiral glows softly. "I am not broken... it is gone. I have made my peace with my loss. I have a family - I have Greg, and Frankie... and you. It is enough."

"Selkie.. she was a selkie"

Thistle scowls. "That's not... what's lost? Can we make something? Find it? There's a magic that can find things - like, a little fire thing?"

Tears trickle down her cheeks. "We cannot. There was a choice I had to make. I made it. There is no going back. My skin... no longer my own. It now belongs to another."

Gladiola bites her lip "so that person is tth Selkie now? "

"Skin?" She looks at Gwen, then Janice.

A soft sigh, and she says, in a voice that sounds distant, "Between the winds, between the waves, Between the sands, between the shores, between the land and sea, under the waves and on the shore, there dwells the selkie. Seal by day, and skin by night, neither and both, one or the other."

"Like a shapeshifter? You need a skin? ...can you get a new one?"

"They are precious and protected, and ever so rare. To take one would be to cripple another. I could not, I would not." Shaking her head.

"But that's not fair!" The eternal cry of the teenager.

Gwen rises, and moves to Thistle "is it okay if we invite your mom to visit? If their lordships allow?" she whispers

"Why would you give it away?"

Marigold hovers nearby, and murmurs, "Please be gentle with questioning the poor lamb. She's hurting." A pat on Gwen's arm.