✨Even the Grass Has Eyes: The Odd, Feral Story of Grassquint✨

On the eve of the Odd & Feral Market, the grasses around Fairlight have grown unusually watchful.

This is not necessarily cause for alarm.

It may, however, be wise to watch where you step.

The Watchers in the Grass

Among the lesser-known creatures of the Faewilde are the Squintae: small, winged guardians most often found along overgrown paths, mossy stones, tangled roots, and the green margins of places travelers have nearly forgotten.

Each bears a single luminous eye.

It is large, unblinking, and remarkably difficult to overlook once it has been noticed. Before that moment, however, a Squintae may remain concealed for hours among leaves and meadow growth, its green fronds mingling with the vegetation below.

Many travelers have passed within arm’s reach of one and mistaken it for an unusual flower.

The Squintae rarely correct them.

Creatures That Do Not Fly

Squintae do not fly in the ordinary fashion.

They hover.

Their broad-eyed bodies remain almost perfectly still above the grasses, held so steadily that an unwary traveler may mistake them for ornaments suspended among the leaves. Beneath them, however, their long green fronds are rarely still.

They ripple, curl, and sweep through the air as though trailing in deep water. Even when the surrounding meadow is quiet, the fronds continue to stir, busy with movement beneath the creature’s unwavering eye.

No wingbeat has ever been heard.

Some believe the fronds gather faint currents of magic that travel beneath old paths and root systems, allowing the Squintae to hold themselves aloft wherever those currents rise close to the surface.

Others insist the creatures are tethered to the land by invisible stems and can drift only as far as hidden roots permit.

The Squintae have offered no clarification.

Whatever holds them in place, their stillness is often more unsettling than movement would be. The fronds dance, but the creature does not sway. Its wings do not tremble. Its body does not rise and fall.

It simply hovers and watches.

Guardians, Witnesses, or Both?

The Squintae are commonly called guardians, although that word may suggest a more active temperament than they possess.

They seldom chase intruders.

They do not growl, shriek, bare their teeth, or otherwise announce displeasure. In fact, no reliable account has ever recorded a Squintae making a sound at all.

They observe.

A Squintae may notice the fox before the rabbit does. It may see a stranger approaching long before their footsteps reach the path. It may detect a shift in the soil, a spell gone sour beneath the roots, or the first movement of something burrowing where it should not.

Whether it chooses to intervene is another matter.

Occasionally, the fronds beneath a hovering Squintae will change direction all at once, streaming toward a particular path despite the absence of wind. Those who recognize the sign know better than to continue that way.

Others dismiss it as weather.

The Faewilde keeps careful records of what happens to those people, though it rarely shares them.

The Feral Edge of the Meadow

There are creatures that seem eager to be adored.

The Squintae are not among them.

They do not approach open hands. They do not perform for travelers or trail behind anyone carrying crumbs. Their enormous eyes may inspire curiosity, but curiosity should not be mistaken for affection.

A Squintae watches because watching is what it does.

It has no interest in appearing friendly, beautiful, frightening, or strange. Such judgments belong to the observer, and the Squintae is already occupied with judging them in return.

This is the feral edge of the Faewilde: nature untouched by the need to please.

Its creatures may be bright without being gentle, beautiful without being tame, and watchful without being kind.

The meadow is not hostile.

It simply does not belong to you.

Grassquint

One Squintae has been sighted more frequently than most near the borders of Fairlight.

It is known as Grassquint.

Its eye is a vivid green, brighter than the leaves beneath it and sharp against the pale gleam of its wings. Long fronds trail below its hovering body, ceaselessly folding and unfurling through the air.

The fronds may thrash in a breeze, tremble at the approach of footsteps, or drift lazily when the surrounding world is calm.

Grassquint itself remains steady.

Watching.

Waiting.

Those who have encountered it disagree about whether it is particularly bold or simply less interested in concealment than others of its kind. It has been found hovering beside market roads, beneath low branches, and once directly above a basket someone had briefly left unattended.

Nothing was taken.

The basket was merely observed very thoroughly.

An Odd & Feral Omen

It is perhaps fitting that Grassquint should appear again as the Odd & Feral Market approaches.

Few creatures better embody both qualities.

It is odd because it resists explanation: part wing, part leaf, part eye, and entirely itself.

It is feral because it does not require explanation.

Tomorrow, there will be skulls, skeletons, witches, fairies, strange animals, glittering stones, and relics from paths that do not appear on ordinary maps.

Some may be elegant.

Some may be eerie.

A few may be cheerful little horrors.

And somewhere among them, Grassquint will hover in place, perfectly steady above its restless green fronds.

Should you notice something watching from beneath the table, beside the path, or just beyond the edge of the crowd, there is no need to panic.

The grass has always had eyes.

You are only beginning to see them.