Spring arrived all at once this time. Not gradually and not with shy buds peeking through frost, but in a riot of color that spilled across the valley like paint flung across a canvas by a careless god’s hand.

The forests shimmered with new leaves in greens that could not be described, only seen by one's own eyes. Wildflowers crowding every path in bursts of pink, violet and white. Streams filled with snowmelt, sang through the roots of every tree in its path.

In the middle of it all, stood the small cottage Orion called his home.

It leaned slightly to one side beneath the weight of climbing ivy and flowering vines. Wind chimes carved from bone, driftwood and glass, whispering softly from the porch. Beams of sunshine, casting rainbows on nearby surfaces as it penetrated the glass. It looked lively, and exactly like the home Orion and his late wife had made together.

Even though he was blind since birth, he moved through the cottage with the quiet certainty of someone who knew every floorboard by memory and every scent by heart. He didn’t need sight to navigate through the world, and especially not his home.

This particular morning smelled of rain, and while some would argue rain carried no scent, Orion stood firm on that. Wet ground mixing with the scent of cedar and lilac, into a harmony for anyone walking past. But that was not what stood out this morning.

As Orion walked through the cottage, gathering the bunch of flowers meant for her grave, he heard a chirp. Not from outside, but inside his very home.

Orion frowned. Another chirp answered from somewhere above him, followed by a muffled crash. “Mm,” he muttered. “That’s never promising.”

A flutter of tiny wings erupted overhead. Something small zipping past his ear at lightning speed and a faint giggle with it. A sound that could only be explained by fae.

He sighed deeply. “Return whatever you stole.” Then silence before another giggle was heard from the other side of the room.

Orion set aside the flowers, turning his head towards the sound and listened carefully.

Scratch. Peep. Followed by tiny claws skittering over the wood.

His hoof touched something smooth, resting beside the open fireplace. He lowered his head to sniff it, muzzle touching the fragile surface of something that turned out to be an egg. Still warm, and way too big to be something common as a bird or lizard.

It cracked slightly against his lips, and he froze. More cracks and eventually a beak pushing through the shell, immediately biting his muzzle.

“Ow!” Orion winced as he pulled back.

The creature inside chirped victoriously, and he couldn’t stop the small huff of a chuckle that left him. Good thing it wasn’t big enough to cause any real damage yet.

Above him, the hidden faes burst into delighted laughter. “You emptied a damn owlcat nest,” Orion said as he turned up towards the sound. The laughter stopped momentarily, before a tiny voice whispered, “Maybe… They needed a spring cleaning too!”

“That is not what spring cleaning means, you don’t kidnap kittens. Their mother will be furious when she finds her nest empty,” Orion muttered. Even though he wanted to be mad at them, the life it brought to the cottage only made him feel closer to the life he had before his wife passed.

A branch snapped outside, his head turning towards the sound. Outside the cottage came a low, resonant hoot, then another. The sound of a much bigger owlcat closing in.

Orion sighed and shook his head. “Well,” he said to the faes, “you’ve doomed us all.”

---

By sunset, the cottage had become a place of chaos. Owlcat eggs were hidden everywhere, and the more Orion looked, the more he found. All while having a stressed owlcat mom waiting for her kittens to come home.

Inside a cupboard, under a blanket near the fireplace, and somehow one ended up balanced inside the chimney without breaking. Several had already hatched into fuzzy little owlkittens now stomping through his cottage with their oversized paws, downy feathers, and the climbing instincts of determined demons wanting to conquer every surface they could find, including Orion himself if he stood in one place for too long.

One of them, currently clung to Orion’s shoulder while chewing thoughtfully on his braid. “You,” he informed it, “are remarkably rude.” Only to be met by a loud purr from the owlkitten.

Outside, their mother waited. A massive creature with feathered wings and feline body, perched silently in a nearby oak. She was angry, but also patient for the most part. Watching like a hawk as Orion moved through the space, gathering her kittens, or at least trying to gather them.

A crash sounded from the pantry. Orion hurried towards it, almost tripping over one of the kittens on his way. He opened the door just in time to hear scrambling claws and a triumphant chirp. “...Please don’t be in the jam, again.”

Tiny paws splashed and he sighed. “Of course you are in the jam, why would you make this easy for me?” he muttered before picking the kitten up by the scruff of its neck. His muzzle getting coated in strawberry jam in the process.

---

Hours later, with scratches on his skin and one of his braids almost completely chewed off, he had finally managed to gather all the owlkittens into a wicker basket lined with blankets. The kittens now sound asleep, probably tired out from their adventure in Orions house, having the time of their lives.

The forest had fallen into dusk as he stepped outside, his horn starting to glow faintly to help him guide the world without sight. The woods was silent, only the sound of heavy wingflaps as the mother made her way down to the ground.

Orion carefully put the basket down on the ground and took a step back. Letting the mother walk up to her kittens who woke from their slumber when they heard their mother purr. The previous silence quickly replaced by a dozen baby owlkittens chirping and scrambling out of the basket to their mother.

The large owlcat studied Orion for a long moment, before unexpectedly lowering its head and touching his muzzle with hers. A gesture of thanks, or perhaps forgiveness.

Orion smiled faintly, “You might consider nesting somewhere less vulnerable to fae next year.”

From the trees came the voices of several offended faes. “We heard that!”

“You were meant to,” Orion chuckled, clearly finding the whole event amusing even though it took him a whole day to fix the mess made by the faes.

The owlcat gave a sound suspiciously close to amusement, before vanishing into the forest with her kittens trailing behind. Silence soon settled over the cottage again.

Orion exhaled deeply. He’d visit her grave tomorrow instead. She’d understand.

Tonight, however, he needed a moment of quiet in front of the fireplace, and possibly a new pantry door.

---

That next day, he made his way to the clearing behind the cottage. The same bunch of flowers from before the owlkitten-chaos, with him.

Her grave was standing in the middle. He picked up the wilted flowers, putting them aside to make space for the new ones. Placing them in front of her name, before laying down beside the stone. “Hi love,” he said softly, as if she was there with him. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit you yesterday, but I have a story for you now. I wouldn’t believe what I have to tell you myself, but the faes really made me work for it yesterday. I have a scar on my muzzle as proof…”