Strawberry Huntin'

I'm going on a adventure!

It's going to be hard goin' . . 

 .  . and I'll have to look every where.

At times, I'll need a rest 'cos it is very difficult . . .

 . . . . but I can stop and look at the flowers sometimes.

If I am very lucky, I'll find wha' I'm lookin' for though!

And then I can enjoy 'em for my tea!

Trying Times

Làmh: So, are you going to explain about the door . . . ?
Beth: *sigh* I am sorry about it you know.
Làmh: Oh, I realise that. But I am the Guardian and I need to be able to protect the door itself and those who walk through. Especially those who don’t know for instance, that that particular door only opens one way . . . .

Beth: Really? I didn’t know!
Làmh: That is apparent . . . . *smile*
Beth: *sigh* I am an apprentice healer in the Fae Court. My duties include caring for those who are mentally hurt, and Feather is currently my special charge. She came to us some months hence, dreadfully abused, unable to even talk. You saw the scars on her body . . . ?
*Làmh nods*





Beth continues: There have been rumours for some time, but until recently we had merely thought there were just tales from the other Courts. Then Feather was found by one of the doors on the east of the Moor and it became apparent that the stories had a basis. Poor Feather, she was so traumatised by the events she regressed in to a time of safety. She now acts as if she is only 3 or 4 years old and needs constant supervision.

*Beth looks towards Feather*



>

Beth: She has suffered so much for one so young. And we don’t know why. There are no searches posted for missing fae here, and she cannot remember where she came from originally. All we can glean is that she is afraid of water and that she gets very frustrated very quickly. She is not dangerous! Just a very frightened little fae at times . . .
Làmh: Hence running away from the bath?
Beth: *smile* Yes, hence running away from the bath. I had intended to make it fun, but even that was too much for her. I had no idea that she would run off, least of all through the door!

Tea Time

Làmh: Shall I be mother and pour?
Beth: Thank you. And thank you for the loan of the dressing gown . . .






Feather: It’s nice and snugly. But why would someone so big like you, have sommat so small?
Beth: Shhhh Feather! That’s rude!
Feather: I’m only sayin’ . . . .







Làmh: *chuckle*  That’s because Little One, I have a lot of friends who pop by and see me. That particular one belonged to ~ oh, here she is.
Jade: Yes, I grew out of that dressing gown. It’s far too babyish for me now. Hi, I’m Jade.
Feather: Hullo. I’m Feather. *nudged by Beth* Oh, and fank you for the dressing gown. I like it.
Beth: It was very generous of you Jade to let Feather use it.
Jade: *shrug* That’s okay. Oh, you have a dog! Does he bite?






Beth: Nah, he’s a sweetie. He just licks people.
Bushel: *wet tongue over Jades hand*
Jade: *giggle* He’s funny. What’s his name . . ?

Trapped

Beth: If you run ahead Feather, you can open the door for us.
Feather: *huffy* I bet the bath water is cold by now anyway . . . Come on Bushel, we’d better go in ~ oh! The door is stuck.







Beth: Now then young faery, let’s go inside. I’m getting a bit chilly out here now, and I’d hate for you to catch a cold.
Feather: But we can’t! The door won’t open ~ watch!
Beth: If you are trying to delay your telling off ~ then think again. *getting angry*







Gruff New Voice: I don’t think the young Fae will be the only one being told off, do you?

The Opening

*a quiet squeak of partially oiled hinges can be faintly heard over the gentle wind on the moor, followed by sounds of a puppy yelping*

Feather: Quiet Bushel, do you want Beth to find us? *giggle* Quick, someone is coming. Go on boy, go on!






*the sound of the heavy plodding of a large body approaches, walking up to the door*

Làmh: Greetings, my name is Làmh, how may I be of assis . . . Oh? I could have sworn I heard the door opening. That’s strange . . . but there’s no one here. Hhhmmmm . . . ?

*heavy footsteps go off into the distance as Làmh turns for home*






*the quiet squeak of the hinges again and a new figure enters through the doorway*

Beth: Feather? Feaaaaather? Bushel, here boy! Com’on puppy, come back. Oh where are you, you naughty faery? When I find you madam . . . . !

* she wanders off looking in the undergrowth*






*the heavy footsteps return at a faster rate than before*

Làmh: Greetings, my name is . . . oh bother, not again! Now this is silly ~ I know I heard the door this time. Or did I? No one here again. Maybe it’s my age? My ears aren’t quite what they used to be . . . . *sigh*

*Làmh retraces his steps*






*meanwhile, behind the stand of young ash trees*

Beth: Now young fae, just what exactly did you think you were doing running away like that?
Feather: But I hate baths!
Beth: That’s no excuse to take off with not a stitch on! And out of one of the Fae Doors too! And as for you Bushel . . .
Bushel: *whine*
Feather: He’s sorry, honest he is Beth. It was all my fault, sorta . . .
Beth: I think I should get all of us home and then deal with the pair of you!

The Guardian

There are doors dotted all across this landscape and each has its own guardian, sworn to protect and conceal the portal and aid all who pass across its threshold.








This door is used by the Wild Hunt, the yearly outing of old Dewer and his Yeth hounds followed by the rest of the Faeri court. I don’t go out on that night. Being a Guardian holds no sway to those enthralled by blood lust . . .







I am Làmh, Guardian of the Fae door on the west side of the moor.

I carry the responsibility for this door. Few tread across its entrance and my duties are light in comparison to other Guardians. I enjoy my charge and live well. That is compensation enough for my endeavours . . . .

Some where, some place . . .

It’s raining hard on the moor again. The seasons are changing out of step with the Wheel of the Year. The cold has chased the inhabitants of the windswept landscape away, hiding in nooks and crannies between stone and earth.




If you search thoroughly in certain places you can spot small eyes looking out at the damp world, watching as you walk by. You have to look carefully.  Some places are better hidden than others.




Beneath old Rowan trees is a good start of course . . . .