Diver! Lyra hadn't seen hide nor hair of the fae for months, but reckoned she was off wandering between planes, or haunting the deep stretches of forest where sensible mortals gave wide berth.

Now she was outside the inn. And asking for the Captain by name.

Nervous, but determined not to show it, Lyra stepped out into the yard. Emerald eyes blinked bright in surprise. Diver had certainly... grown. Mostly around the middle. If Lyra didn't know any better, she'd think the tapir was.... pregnant?

The Wisp's fae whelps had supposedly manifested into existence through sheer force of magic. So was it different depending on the type?

Aye, I'm 'ere, Diver. Lyra answered, tufted ears kept aloft. Fae asking for favours was tricky business. She mustn't get herself tangled up in changeling business! So she was careful with her words, Pleasure t'see ye again. What is it ye mean t'ask?