Medieval Fantasy Noncon with Tay the Faun

[Ezuriel the Moth]

The young faun was tired of rain. She had been walking a long time, and finally found a human's building. She wondered briefly if anyone would mind her coming inside, then thought better of it. They could get over it if they didn't like her. She walked right up to the door and stomped the mud off her hooves. Then she stopped as she reached for the doorknob. There would be people in there. Probably lots of people. They might talk to her. She knew something was wrong with her, she didn't like people, never had, and sometimes she was easily overwhelmed when they spoke to her and tried to get her to speak back. She retracted her hand and pulled at one of her copper colored curls that were so massively voluminous they almost covered her small horns. The rain was too much, she finally decided, and stepped in. Others were already there, as was to be expected. This was much different from her cozy den in the forest. Still playing with her own hair, she found a seat away from most of the others.

Tay remained where she had first sat, at first staring at the other patrons, then simply staring off into space. She continued to play with her hair, and would mouth phrases to herself, inaudible to anyone else. She was always like this, and ever since her sister was taken from her, she had only gotten worse. Her eyes flicked to the candle on the table. Living in the forest, she was minimally familiar with fire. She reached up and held her hand above the flame for as long as she could stand, a couple seconds. She then retracted it with a gasp. The smell of burnt skin reached the noses of everyone in the room, and she looked sheepishly down at her own hooves.