soft hearts cold snow

The fae smiles, a small thing. “Alright little wanderer, show the skills in your craft.”“Hold ya’ horses,” he huffs out, “here take these—“ he says, gently passing a handful of lilacs towards the fae’s edge of the circle, they grasp the flowers. “There! Now we can get started.”—“Tyler,” his nana croaks, “Tyler.” She whispers, and he moves toward, “It’s Tommy, Na’.” He mumbles, briefly starring at her wrinkled face and swallows hard to see how pale she looks.or or —-> in a world of soulmates, tommy’s own soulmate is a fae, this has consequences.