In the early dusk, Duncan crossed quickly but calmly through the back dooryard. Most of the household had already taken their work indoors for the night, but he wasn't sure how the countess kept her stables; they might be locked, or there might be a groom installed nearby, foul weather or not.

From under his dark cloak came giggle and a little fidgety kick that landed dangerous close to his balls. He grimaced, then whispered, "Shh, settle down in there, surprise."

Once he was behind the stable, out of the line of the castle, and mostly out of the wind, he hesitated, took a deep breath, and all but whispered, "Robin Goodfellow, Robin Goodfellow, Robin Goodfellow."

The was a cackling from the tree branches above, and then the furry creature appeared, tumbling down to land on the ground. "Ah!" it exclaimed. "It's the proud papa. Has your little lady regained her former form?"

Duncan jumped a good foot backwards and nearly fell over into the snow. The jump jostled his passenger, or else his cloak thought all this jumping-about was hilariously funny. "Do you just hide in trees and wait for people?" he hissed at the hob, before drawing himself up straight and calming down. "Aye. She's back to herself again. Good neighbor."

"Ah, mayhap I materialize in maples," answered the Puck. "And I am no neighbor if you nix our negotiation," it chided. "Remember what you owe?"

"Of course I do," he said, "and let me tell you, it was a bloody chore getting her mother out of the room." He unwrapped his cloak, and let Acorn, still in her party dress, slip down from his hip to the ground. "There you are, little-bit."

Acorn rubbed her eyes crossly, then blinked with some interest at the Puck. "Hello." But she was more interested in accosting Duncan. "Where's the surprise? I already seen snow."

The Puck's yellow eyes went wide, and it grinned at the little girl. "I see," it chortled, tapping its fingers together greedily. "Come here, my dear. Do you like to play?"

The Puck held his hand out to the little girl. "Ah, but they can, my pretty poppet," he said, dropping to one knee before her. "Am I not a gallant surprise? Have you ever seen something so furry as I am before?" He reached up and stroked his own fur, then reached out to tease one of her curls around his finger. "But it is not that I am here, sweetling, that is the surprise," he assured her. "It is what we will do together. My, that is a pretty dress."

Duncan grimaced and looked away, but was unable to stop himself from turning back to watch them. "For gods' sake," he growled, "go on, get her out of here. I don't want to be here when someone figures out she's gone."