[Gift] Nailed it

Lakehouse down near frolicked their way through the underbrush as Agnes' place become smaller and smaller in the distance behind them. They hummed, heart swelling with comfort as tree trunks and foliage swallowed the last remaining evidence of her home.

Agnes was kind and patient, they thought. She always had snacks, oil, and a warm porch. Sometimes she carved them wood into fun and interesting shapes. Her cabin boasted all kind of smell and texture. The rare treat of visiting her was only matched by the sweetness of returning to quiet, to damp soil, to bark pressing in on all sides-- but today's visit had been particularly exciting. There was a new kind of plant-- one Lakehouse had never seen before. Leaves white like snow yet untouched by frost, were still breathing. Its berries were bright like autumn leaves. Like stars! Its smell reminded them of persimmon but sharper. Pine-y. And even better, she had made another shape. A continuous loop of brightness and gold. Circle of berries and sharp leaves. How lovely it was! Lakehouse didn't like doors, didn't even care much for Agnes's, but her ring of twigs wore it nicely. If they decorate a tree with one of their own, they thought-- well that would be even better.

Lake twirled a little white leaf in their hoof. It wasn't enough for a ring, but it was beautiful on its own. They would hang it somewhere else, they thought.That would still be nice. For now they made their way back home, picking vines here, sharp leaves or needles there, glad for the thickness of their fur as they slowly worked these finds into a circle. How nice to settle into a rhythm. Before long the ring was wide enough to fit around their bun form's shoulders. Spot, pluck, bend and twine. With enough time and offerings it sat snugly under their arm and around the fluff of their neck, leaving their hands free for more binding.

It wasn't until they got back to their space that they realized they may have been...too excited. Needles and thorns snagged into their fur, holding fast. The branches now *truly* were holding their own. It didn't hurt-- thank demons they were so fluffy. But with one arm pressed up, the other to their side, and the clump of branches snuggled under their chin, they couldn't look down.

With an awkward warble, Lake set about retracing their steps. At least they'd get to see that strange new plant again