"That hasn't been my experience."

"Oh. Well, uh, maybe that's the whole confusion. As far as I know kissing is a two person activity. If you didn't want to kiss another person you could kiss a tree, or a rock, or your reflection, or a human or something."

"Uh, I mean a human who is slowed and being still, not a human who'd actually notice."

"Most human men want to kiss people but they don't, um, usually care if the people they kiss are - if this is something that makes them happy."

"Well I guess it makes sense that you wouldn't expect anyone to care about that then."

She hugs herself and nods.

"I don't actually know anything about how many people are like that but as far as I know all of the men I have kissed wanted the people they were kissing to be having fun, so it'd be surprising if it were most of them."

(She makes a face for half a second, and then reminds herself of everything the Scandinavians do, and then decides that, you know what, fairy, fairy who doesn't want to hurt her, this is not the moment to decide to be judgmental about other people's sexual norms, especially given that she clearly doesn't even understand the most basic aspects of them anyway.)

(Although you would expect it to be different if you were kissing men, since, well, men.)

"Sorry. I'm - not really good at that."

"Well, that's okay."

She does not really look like she believes this.

"If I cared a lot about it I guess I could've asked before I stole you? But that wouldn't make it your fault I didn't."

She doesn't look very cheered by this, but she nods.

It occurs to her to worry that he might not want to help her anymore. That's one kind of not caring, after all, a willingness to immediately cut your losses when you discover them. But she wouldn't know what question to ask about that even if she felt safe asking questions right now.

"Do you feel this way about everything or is it specific about kissing?"

"I don't think I usually panic about things that aren't about - sex or violence or someone trying to hurt or take away the children."

"Oh. Well, that's all right, then."

"Okay."

He pauses for another moment and then rolls over and apparently takes a nap.

Well, she feels terrible now and has absolutely no sense of how upset he is about any of what just happened. And she kind of wants a hug, but there isn't anyone else to get one from.

She decides to take a walk. Maybe she'll find some more dew to drink. Maybe one or both of them will be less upset when she comes back.

He is still asleep when she comes back.

Okay, well, fine. 

She'll just go to sleep a ways away, then. She has to do that at some point anyway.

He wakes up while she's sleeping and doesn't immediately remember why he feels useless and confused and then remembers. 

He finishes the flute and leaves it in the childbox for the children to play with and then goes off and bathes and sunbathes and comes back and lies down and watches her sleep.

Eventually she wakes up. She smiles contentedly, stretches a little, opens her eyes, sees him, and then remembers.

She stops smiling.

"Hi?"

"Hi.

I did that too."

"Did what?"

"Woke up and then -" he gestures glumly. "Do you want a hug?"

"Yes. Please."