Keeping just inside the forest line, off the true path and the main road both, Neely made good time once outside Oireachteigh. The rain had also mostly vanished; he assumed that, if it was Judith's doing, it probably existed only in a ring above the city proper. It didn't matter much to him, although it felt good to be able to finally have some sunshine. He stripped off his wet tunic and tucked it down the side of his belt to dry, then paused, settling down on an elderly elm-stump, to dig through his supplies.

He snatched his hand out of the bag. "What the--"

Then he upended the whole bag onto the ground, shaking out the contents. "Puck, get the hell out of my bag! So help me . . . "

"What are you--oh, hell. You." With a glare at the mouse, he started stuffing his few supplies back in the sack. "So much for you becoming the Puck's plaything. Goddamn it. Magical talking mice." Clearly, he felt this was at least partially the mouse's fault. "I should take you back to Oireachteigh as the Princess's new personal stylist."

"Don't remind me." He sorted through his bag to rearrange the tumbled contents into some workable order, then scowled when his fingernails raked through a handful of crumbs at the bottom. He dropped a nibbled quarter of biscuit at the mouse. "Here, since you've already started that one."

"You learn something new every day." He checked the other biscuit for nibble-marks, then started in on it himself. "Here are your options: either you toddle back to Oireachteigh now or . . . no, sorry, I think that's only viable option."