Tara happily wanders barefoot in the snow with her massive wolf, hand curled into his thick pelt, snowflakes caught in her fair hair and eyelashes, the frost fae always seeming to turn ethereally lovely and alive in the winter.

Tara beams and tries on new shiny necklaces and rings from the market, blinking at her reflection and pondering for a moment on how much she's grown up in the year she's been with Gavin, the girl blossoming into a lovely and elegant young lady.

She snorts in gleeful amusement and tosses her head to mess up sleek hair, ruining the effect.

Tara beams proudly, pulling a tray of cookies from the oven, Carak wandering in sniffing the air curiously.

She tosses the cub a warm treat, setting the cookies out to cool and waiting for Gavin to get home.

Tara burrows even closer to Gavin under the covers, not really wanting to wake up. She sighs softly, opening one blue eye experimentally, then shutting it again and pulling the blankets over her head.

Tara beams at Delilah, producing another batch of tiny, glittering butterflies for the little girl, the cloud of insects fluttering around her head and resting on her outstretched hands. Carak snaps at a few, the pup cocking his head and looking confused as they disappear in his mouth.

Tara curls on the couch by the fire, Carak snuggled into her lap as she flips the pages in a book, frowning as she finds it hard to read in Common. The girl sighs, tilting her head thoughtfully and gently removing the wolf cub from her lap before bouncing up, going into the other room and settling into Gavin's lap.

Tara wanders through the living room, pausing at the sight of Gavin dozing on the couch, his golden hair tousled and falling into his face. The girl tilts her head, moving over to kneel beside the sofa, simply watching him in fascination.

Slender fingers reach out of their own accord and gently trace his lips.

Tara wakes early in the morning, the wolf pup's whines waking her up. He wags his tail as she looks at him, prancing side to side. She smiles, rubbing his ears and rising, padding outside in her nightgown, barefoot, to let Carak run a bit and go potty.

Tara rushes into the house from her wanderings near the forest's edge, holding something bundled in her jacket, held to her chest like a baby.

"Gavin? Gavin!" She calls a little frantically, sitting down by the fire.

Tara urges her nervous pure white faery vaare through the forest path, chill wind whipping the girl's platinum hair and the trailing fabric of her gown. The darkness and the flurries of driving snow makes seeing in front of them nearly impossible, the fae lass unable to tell where they're going. This part of the forest is treacherous, hidden roots and low branches slowing the two down.

"It's alright, Neimh," she murmurs, patting her mount's neck as she stumbles again and looking back nervously. The telltale glow of lamplight flickers off ice-covered trees as her pursuers gain ground.
She reaches a clearing and sighs with relief, spurring Neimh into a run, the two thieves on her trail urging their snorting Nightmare mounts into hot pursuit.