Harvest of Plenty [Valhallan Autumn Festival]

Pegasus arrived to the festivities fashionably late, approaching the gathered horde from a distance. He spied Philomena talking to another with a mane- blessed Ley how many wolves had manes on this island- and then spied Aurielle seemingly surrounded by a horde of pups.

Coming to the festival had been Célestin’s idea, although he hardly minded it; they had just spent another festival together less than a moon’s turn ago but this festival offered food and drink while the firefly festival had not. He had ben too young to try the golden cider of his homeland, but he was sure that the magic of Boreas would make their vintage just as good if not better.

At his paws the cottonmouth slithered to his side, flicking her tongue curiously at the gathered folk before her eyes rested on her king. Pegasus frowned at the lowly creature but knew better than to try driving her off, she was completely devoted to him, although what having a snake as his familiar said about him, he couldn’t say.

Talking Thinking You