Gasping, Rosco takes in the gathering before him.

Each little spirit is only about 3 to 5 inches tall, dressed in all the colors of the flowers. Each has their own little set of fluttering wings. Some brightly colored, like butterflies, while others have the clear, iridescent wings of bees or dragonflies.

The boy matches their stares of wonder and awe as the little spirits venture closer, inspecting him. They chatter amongst themselves freely, their tinkling little voices speaking in words Rosco is unable to understand. One flies up and begins tugging at a loose curl, Rosco flinches away on instinct, but the little creature only grins, beckoning the others closer.

With that, the others surge forward unafraid. Climbing all over him, each making their own through little inspection. At first Rosco’s pretty nervous, but none of the poking or prodding hurts more than a tickle and he soon finds himself giggling like a child at their insatiable curiosity.

A particularly brave one moves to sit in Rosco’s hand, letting him do his own investigation. This one has long golden hair, tied up in a tiny knot at the top of its head. A clear set of dragonfly wings and bright yellow clothes, their top is quite loose, with a wide boat neck, coming together just over the shoulders, tucked into formfitting yellow pants. With no shoes or jewelry of any kind. The wildflower spirit smiles softly in his palm, rubbing its petal soft fingers over his rough skin. The little thing seems to be neither male nor female, but somewhere in between. Not neither, but somehow both.

Now that Rosco can see them closely, he notices each one is wrapped in a vine of thorns, biting into their skin. Some of them tug at the thorns, clearly uncomfortable, but they shoo away his fingers every time he tries to pull at them.

Rosco frowns, “I just want to help you,” he tries to tell them, though he has no idea if they understand.

The one in his hand flies up, resting its palm against the tip of his nose. He blinks back, pulling away just enough to clearly see the creature.

It shakes its’ head sadly, wordlessly conveying their hopelessness.

Hayden decides then to make his reappearance, sending the spirits scampering away. Most of them fled, vanishing in the distance, but the one that had sat on Rosco’s palm dove to hide behind his neck, clutching painfully at his hair.

He felt the little thing peak out around him to get a glimpse at the god.

“You’re scaring them.” Rosco scolds, reaching up to try and reassure his new friend, “Shh, it’s alright, Hayden doesn’t want to hurt you.” He whispers, beckoning the little one closer. The wildflower inches forward, settling in to sit atop Rosco’s shoulder, still half hiding in his hair. Hayden is clearly hurt, and a little annoyed judging by the ways his eyes shift from clear white to stormy gray.

The god lowers himself into the grass trying to be as non-threating as a man his size can manage, “Why are you hiding from me?” he asks softly.

“I think there is something wrong with them,” Rosco worries at his lip, “They are all tied up in thorns. They aren’t supposed to be like that are they?” seeking answers from the god.

Hayden’s frowns answers Rosco’s question and says the god is just as troubled by this revelation as the boy was, “What has happened my dear friend?”

The little creature jumps to its feet chittering with clear agitation. Hayden’s eyes widen with surprise and then narrow as the story went goes. Rosco watches, unable to understand the words but recognizes the scolding from the way the little thing has its hand on its hip and waves a finger at the god with a startling amount of spunk for one so tiny.

glancing between the two, “Hayden, what is it saying?” Rosco prods, pushing at Hayden’s knee.

The wildflower stops shouting long enough for them to peak back and gesture to Rosco expectantly.

“Their name is Tansy.” Hayden informs, presumably on request.

“Nice to meet you!” The boy smiles, “I’m Rosco.”

Tansy beams, flying a quick circle around the boy’s head, settling back on his right shoulder.

Hayden holds back a laugh by clearing his throat, “Tansy was explaining how they became cursed, if you would wait just a moment, I’d like to hear the end of the story before I attempt retelling it.”

“Cursed!? That’s awful!” Rosco says louder than necessary, turning to look at Tansy on his shoulder. The little creature nuzzling up to him in response to his sympathy.

“I agree,” Hayden nods, “Tansy if you would please go on?”

Tansy huffs on his shoulder and then continues their story in the same tinkling voice as before.

“I see,” Hayden musses when the story is finished, “And you never discovered who this ‘sorcerer’ truly was?”

Intrigued, Rosco pauses his nail chewing listening closer. He’s trying his hardest not to interrupt again, but it’s hard when words like sorcerer are being thrown around.

Tansy nods to Hayden and then flies up to sit atop Rosco’s head, contenting themself by toying with his hair.

Rosco frowns feeling a tiny smack when he tried to move. “So, what did they say?” desperately wishing he could see what was being done to him.

Hayden’s eyes were far away, lost in thoughts, but he began to recount the story nevertheless,

“A few years after my departure, the wildflowers noticed some of the other spirits getting stronger, or more powerful. At first, they paid no mind to it, but eventually they started to notice how imbalanced the world was becoming and started trying to talk to the others and find out what was going wrong. Some of the stronger spirits started picking on them, giving them trouble for asking questions.” turning his gaze on Rosco, “larger spirits can gain power by gathering human worshipers, as you have seen, but that method would not work for the wildflowers, nor did it explain the drastic changes taking place. Eventually they found a tree spirit that was also concerned with the way their friends had been acting and was willing to share with them the way the others had summoned a sorcerer who was making deals in exchange for great power. Apparently,” the gray of his eyes growing dimer as he spoke, “this sorcerer came when the wildflowers called them, but it was a trap. The sorcerer cursed them, preventing them from traveling back and forth to their home, effectively stopping them from asking anymore questions.”

Tansy injected something from atop Rosco’s head.

“Yes, I left out your cruder language,” Hayden sighs deeply, “The boy is still young, “motioning to Rosco, “he doesn’t need to hear such words.” his nose winkling in distaste.

“I’m not that young.” Rosco protests with a click of his tongue.

Hayden pointedly ignores his objection, continuing as if he hadn’t spoken, “Tansy if you will call your friends out of hiding, I will lift the curse immediately.”

The wildflower drops Rosco’s hair moving to hover in front of Hayden’s face with their arms crossed defiantly. The little creature spoke, and Hayden shook his head, “I am not trying to buy back your favor, Tansy, I just want to help you.”

Tansy taps their foot midair, zipping back to face Rosco, little voice directed at him,

“Tansy would like to know if you trust me?” Hayden translates.

“Oh, I-” Rosco’s brow creases as the words catch in his throat. Tansy has their lips set into a firm line, but the unmistakable light of hope shining in their little eyes. Rosco forces his eyes to focus past Tansy, to the god behind them. Hayden’s expression is deceptively blank, as if he had no stake in this, but the black holes of his eyes give away his emotion. Rosco’s gaze falls to his lap, picking at his torn fingernails, “I don’t know if I can say I trust him,” he mutters, “I only just met him, but I don’t believe he’d lie about wanting to help you.” Nodding decisively to his new friend.

Tansy thinks it over and then nods, vanishing from sight. They reappear moments later with a handful of others.

Hayden raises an eyebrow, “So, few?”

Ushering the newcomers towards the god, Tansy chitters back something steeped in annoyance.

Hayden gives an exasperated shake of his head and sets to work. He moves his hands like one would open a window and reaches into the now ‘open’ space. When he pulls back, his hand contains a twisting mass of convulsing green light. The vines wrapped around the gathered wildflowers dissolves as if it had never been. The little spirits fly into a joyous frenzy. Singing and chatting in their tiny voices, dancing and hugging one another exuberantly. A few show more intimate displays of happiness. Rosco blushes profusely, unaccustomed to any sort of public affection, especially the kissing sort. He diverts his eyes to find Hayden unraveling the ball of light like one would a giant knot of yarn. Even glancing at the strange object makes Rosco feel as if something has tightened around his lungs making it hurt to breath. But he’s painfully curious, so he watches the process through to the end. Hayden tugs at the last knot and the green light dissipates, leaving nothing behind.

A few of the wildflowers climbed on Hayden, offering thanks in the form of tiny snuggles which he welcomes warmly. He seems happy and completely comfortable with their desire for closeness. His clear, white eyes crinkling with laughter.

“Send anyone else who wishes to be released, and I will free them also.” He tells them as their little party dies down and they begin venturing off.

two by two the Wildflowers vanish or wander off into the surroundings until only Tansy is left, happily perched on Rosco’s shoulder.

Hayden wearily eyes the little spirit, “You’ve taken a liking to him, haven’t you?”

Tansy replies with a short, smug little noise and gives Rosco’s cheek the tiniest pinch.

“I apologize Rosco,” Hayden says gravely, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it was not my intent to burden you with this.” He stands brushing off imaginary dirt.

“Burden?” Scrambling to match him, “What burden?”

“It seems Tansy has decided to accompany you.”