6
When Gavin returned, the mood had completely changed. Sparrow and Rainstorm were bent over a quarrel looking at a piece of fletching that had come loose. Tarkyn was talking to Gurgling Brook and sending images to Midnight as the two children constructed a little hut from twigs and moss, while Autumn Leaves and Waterstone were setting out cups ready for the tea that was brewing by the side of the fire.
Lapping Water, her soft green eyes shining, came to sit next to the king. “The local woodfolk will not be as relaxed as we are. They only spoke to outsiders for the first time just a few days ago. So they are likely to be more formal than us.” She caught a hint of confusion in his face and smiled. “Oh no. They don’t believe in hierarchies or rank any more than we do. So I doubt they’ll bo
