Nona giggles.

Etty whistle-sounds again. She puts her neck back in a more natural position, and then, after a moment's indecision, bites a dangling lock of Nona's hair.

She giggles again and pets Etty some more. Does Etty want to be in her lap? Nona thinks that it would be lovely to have Etty in her lap.

Etty will happily sit in Nona's lap.

Nona likes that! She has a lapful of fluffy feathery cuddly swan-person.

She does! Her fluffy feathery cuddly swan-person lapful sits and tucks her head under her wing.

Pet pet pet?

Feather-rustle. Etty is going to try to sleep now.

Okay. Nona is going to hug her while she does that.

Snuggly!

Etty wakes up about eight hours later. She untucks her head from her wing.

Nona is gone, but the clothes she was wearing remain, made into a little nest for Etty.

Sunset comes and goes. No summons.

No summons, no summons, no summons.

...No Nona?

No Nona.

Etty eats fruit and processes and makes sure she has her scroll and pen and ink away before sunrise. She goes swimming with the last few hours before light; it's more fun when one doesn't float so automatically. And she wants to confirm that she doesn't have a residual fear of drowning. (She doesn't.)

There's more screaming from the castle that day.

It seems to help Nona, anyway, or at least there's no obvious competing explanation for why she does so much of it.

Or maybe it's just what she does, like freezing and shivering is what Etty does.

That could be it, too.