#elsewhere

Art mutters and stirs, and sits up. "Wait.. why... why was I sleeping?"

"C'mere, you brilliant annoying nerdy genius!" And he's... getting hugged

"snnnnnnnnnrrrrrrrrrr."

Which might be a bit firm

"codswollup flibble-flam. snnnnnnnnrrrrrrrrr."

Art is startled fully awake, momentarily convinced he is about to be strangled.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! I don’t know what for yet, but I’m sorry!”

His hands flail before catching up with reality: a hug, not a death grip. He sags a bit, exhaling shakily. “Wait… what happened?”

Beside them, Thistle lets out a heroic snore, which Art barely registers. "You - you’re okay?”

"I am great" She says "I am better than I've been in awhile because SHE is going to be better! And she is going to be better because of you and codwallopfibblflamesnor there. I owe you so much. I can never repay it. I can't. I know you didn't do it for me, it was for Marigold, but you DID do it, and I'm so grateful" SHe lets him go "Sorry, might have been a bit TOO grateful there. But we got what will help. See?" She shows him the prize "White Buffalo Calf Woman gave me her blessing for mom, this is it made... well, incarnate"

Thistle finds that the supernatural sleep that had pressed on her has lifted. Though, the cushion of the wildflower bed is very comfortable.

Art blinked, staring at her, the weight of what she said sinking in.

"Of course I did it for you," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're my friend."

There was a pause—just a beat too long, uncertainty creeping in around the edges. Then, more hesitantly, he adds, "Right?"

She stirs and sits up, the hair on one side sticking out at a wild angle. Sleepy blinks.

"S'wha' happened?"

She hugs him again "Yes. I bet people who aren't friends couldn't cut each other as deeply with words as we did. " There is regret in her tone there, "But, Art, I don't know if I thank you enough"

It would appear the troll is hugging the stuffing out of Thistle's boyfriend

It's possible she's still dreaming

"...think I missed sumthin'."

"C'mere, you" The troll lets one arm loose off Art, so it can snag Thistle and have her join in "We did it! I want to thank you both so much I couldn't have done this without you!"

Trolls are supposed to be stoic. Clearly, Gwen is doing it wrong. But she doesn't seem to care

Art hesitates, then sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re probably more patient with me than most people,” he admits. “I shouldn’t be surprised that I finally wore through.” His expression shifts, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. “I… I remember now. I think it occurred to me as I was asleep... I mean, that you HAD asked us to keep it a secret.” His voice drops, quieter now, more thoughtful. “Maybe I knew that all along - or I should have known. But I didn’t listen, because—” He stops, exhaling. “Because I was too excited. The knowledge, the discovery—I let that take over.”

"We did it?"

"I... think so?"

She shows the goal to Thistle too "Look"

Head-tilt and squinty-face. She holds out her hands and makes a 'gimme' scrunch with her fingers.

He meets her eyes, sincerity in his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

"Oh geez, Art. I... I'm trying to explain all the good you do, all the help you gave, that is an OCEAN compared to the bucket of water our spat was. My house can give me a demerit or somethijng if they want me to be all vengful on this. "

Gwen says "I'll take your apology if you'll take mine. Among other things I have been absolutely no fun on this quest. I was so worried I'd fuck up I all but made sure I would"

She looks to Thistle "And sorry for making things less fun for you too, Thistle. I have been SO negative"

"You were kinda uptight, but apologies are good."

"Well, you've got one" She assures

The prize is fine silk, and embroidered with a unique design of marigold and gladiola blossoms. Within it, one can feel glamour humming.

Thistle examines it - carefully, with a surprisingly soft touch if Gwen hadn't seen the nocker repair gossamer wings before - and yes, kenning to get a sense of the magic in it.

Art leans in and kens it too. "Decent amount of glamour." He muses, then blinks. "Do you feel that? It's not that native 'Medicine'. Feels like good old Glamour to me." Intrigued. His fingers twitch, but he keeps them off the fine silk.

Thistle finds an irregularity on the back... is that a tag?

"Yes, the White Buffalo Calf Woman she said it was not the moonflower belt but would help. I guess it makes sense it would be glamour mom could more easily touch?"

She turns to look.

"The Nunnehi magic - the Medicine- is hard, yeah." Examining the belt.

The small tag is inscribed in the moon letters - but as she squints at it, the writing wavers before her eyes for a moment, and Thistle can make out what it says.

She lets out a howl of laughter, not entirely un-canine.

Art rolls his eyes skyward, shaking his head.

:"What's it say?"

She looks

"Maybe it's better not to say." Art wonders. "Coyote laughs." He says to Gwen.

Gwen (and Art, if he were to look) only sees the delicate moon symbols. It's rather pretty.

Perhaps a maker's name, as it looks like a tag.

"Well, now I'm feeling some serious Fomo" She says

"Just... yeah. Coyote." A crooked grin. "Left his mark."

"uhm" A worried look "Whatever has you laughing, it's ... We didn't just get a prank for my mom, did I? I mean, iot's not a joke that won't work is it?"

Art reaches out and touches the tag, and gives a rueful smile. "I don't feel anything malicious in it. That wouldn't be a funny jest, I don't think."

mollified a bit but still cautious "No, it wouldn't be." A breath "Oh I need to wake the others" SHe says looking to their nunnehi allies

She sees that they are not asleep,, her nunnehi guides - rather, there is a bit of a scuffle going on across the clearing.

Mato grips Takota by the front of his tunic, fists tight, his granite knuckles white against the fabric. Takota doesn’t struggle, but his jaw is set, his usual easy confidence replaced by something unreadable.

"Mato," Takota says, voice level. "Release me."

Mato doesn’t. His eyes burn with something deeper than anger—betrayal, maybe. Disbelief. His shoulders are tense, like a storm held barely in check.

"Tell her." The words are low, nearly a growl. Takota meets his gaze but says nothing.

Mato tightens his grip, nostrils flaring. "You owe her that much."

"No. Nothing that would hurt Marigold. Just... an easter egg."

"What's going on? "\