He does not usually come to the Den, though he has managed to adopt another child regardless. Still, he often finds that he walks by it, just in case, ears perked in the direction just listening for any sound. There were not that many children in the Den, at least when he passed by, and he is thankful that the land stays largely empty.

Tonight though there is sound, unusual sounds good. Not the gentle footfalls of children roaming or even adults, who slip in and out to leave their children beneath the watchful protection of the fairies. No, he hears screaming, running...it is too distant for him to get there quickly, and the snow that falls does not make his journey any faster. Still he runs though, as fast as he can, across the slippery ground, feeling far too slow the entire time.

By the time he arrives, managing to find the boy in the forest tucked against a dead mare. He has no idea what has happened and from the scene probably could not guess anyway. He assumes that she slipped and fell, leaving a boy motherless, though he knows any number of things might have happened.

There’s a soft glow around the star covered stallion, giving him enough light to see by and making him easily spotted as well. Aedan slows his pace, approaching gently now, hoping not to frighten the child more than he already must be. It is clear the mare never even cleaned him, which somehow makes him wonder what actually happened. The pieces don’t quite add up, but at the moment, they do not matter either. ”Hello,” he says, voice soft and gentle. ”I’m Aedan. I can help you, if you’ll let me.”

If he could read minds, he would laugh. Not at the boy, but simply at the idea of being a god. He is no such thing, certainly. Honestly, were there such things as gods at all? The faeries, but they were not beings really, just magic incarnate. There was power in the world they would never fully understand, but gods? Perhaps, but not in this life.

The boy fights, but only for a minute, and it’s weak and feeble and certainly nothing Aedan couldn’t handle. But it does not take long for the child to realize that Aedan isn’t there to hurt him but to help. He manages one word, a small ‘help’, and Aedan nods. He calls to the stars, surrounding the boy with their soft, warm light. It is not warmth, necessarily, but it is warming and comforting, and it will help keep him warm as they make the journey out of this place.

Aedan reaches down, helping the boy to stand. ”I live on an island. It is much warmer than here. Can you walk?” He waits, making sure the boy isn’t so injured that he couldn’t move. Probably Aedan could find a way to move him with the darkness that surrounds them, but he’s never actually tried such magic. ”The water there is warm too. We can get you clean.”