The same tree where the wrywling had been resting was now being prepared for a ritual.
Therin turned to the small creature.
"Will you help me?" he asked.
The wrywling gave a slight nod, showing it understood.
Therin knelt down and pulled out a necklace with a black obsidian pendant.
"Would you like this?"
The wrywling stepped closer, sniffed the necklace, and gently pushed its green head—crowned with small, spiked horns—through the loop.
Therin blinked, surprised.
"Do we make a bond?" he asked softly.
The little wrywling sat its hindquarters and tail down on the ground, looking at him expectantly. It was smarter than it looked—and a little cute, too.
Therin took a breath, then bit his finger until a few drops of blood appeared. He reached his hand out toward the wrywling's forehead.
The creature leaned in, and as Therin's bloody finger touched its brow, a smudge of red bloomed into a glowing green mark.
Then the wrywling came closer and opened its mouth—waiting.
