"Weeeeirdo pooka."

"What would she do? Are you gonna be okay with a cranky pooka queen to go home to?"

<Yeah, I'll be fine, don't worry about me.> He nibbles her fingers.

"Okay." Pet pet.

Snuggle snuggle.

"Titania's the queen, right? Fairy queen? Her and Overlong or whatever his name was?"

<Yeah, from Midsummer Night's Dream, I figured I'd go with the Shakespeare connection,> he says. <Since she didn't pick a nickname herself.>

"Is there a pooka king too?"

<Maybe.>

"Aww." She sighs. "I don't know whether I wanna tell her I'll help. I don't know what she'd want me to do."

<Me neither. We haven't really done that much yet.>

"And it sounds dangerous." She shivers.

<It is.> He coos and snuggles up and gives her tiny nibbles.

She pets him.

<You don't have to do the really dangerous stuff, though,> he says. <Nobody's gonna hurt you if you decide not do so something 'cause you're scared. We're scared too; we get it.>

"I am kinda scared."

Coo. Snuggle. Tiny nibbles.

"If I start walking home now Mom'll be gone by the time I get there, probably."

<Okay.>

She picks him up and carries him home.

Where Trouble, of course, demorphs on her bed.

"That really is pretty gross," she says, not sounding like this has affected her.

He giggles. "I know, it's nasty," he says, and hugs her.

Hugs! Yay.