All the Little Songbirds, All the Silent Trees

"I don't think most people know how old I am."

"How old are you?" he asked.

She considered it. "Two hundred forty-six."

“Shiiit.” He nodded. “Nice. That’s awesome.”

"Is it?" Her brow furrowed. "Immortality's a blessing and a curse."

“I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged. “Know how old I am?” Most people could usually peg him around his mid-twenties. He looked a little older but acted a little younger and it all balanced out.

She studied him. "Twenty-eight?"

He puffed up, proud that he’d gotten a few years in her estimation. “Twenty-five.”

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. "You're just a baby."

“Hey now.” He furrowed his brow but it was playful. “My brain is fully developed.” Gods help them all if this is where he peaked.

"That's at twenty-six." They had reached the cottage. It was a mossy, vine-covered little stone house set into a hill and surrounded by a rough-looking white picket fence complete with a gate. An herb and vegetable garden grew inside, and several cats where lounging around in a catnip patch.

“Aww this is cute!” He swung down off Aenyra and patted her neck.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "It's home, that's all. She held out her staff and nothing appeared to change. There was an angry meow from within. "Right, all clean. Come on in." She stepped through the gate toward the door.

“Hah!” Aeron smirked and tied Aenyra off then followed her.

Tove headed up the little cobblestone path and opened the heavy wooden door. Several greeting chirps from the cats within followed, and she swept them gently out of the way of her feet with her staff. There were four inside, plus the six clustered around the catnip patch, then Oleander on her shoulders.
The interior of the cottage, despite her spell, was cluttered with odds and ends--especially the front walkway and kitchen. The walkway had an umbrella stand full of staffs, several cloaks hanging on the wall, and a goat skull hood. Two pairs of boots sat off to the side and the rug was thoroughly trampled. The kitchen was partially obscured by drying herbs but it looked cozy, with a small fireplace nestled behind a wooden counter where an empty cookie tray sat. There was also a living room with another fireplace and a well-used brown sofa and armchair.