Charlton froze, visibly, when the woman called him a god.

His attempts to vanish back into the shrubbery had been dismembered when the wild dog circled round behind him, so he was trying to sort of shuffle sideways instead when the animal bit him. It bit him! It may have just been a little nip, but Charlton wasn’t used to random familiars coming up and biting him on the ankle. He jumped and did his best not to shrink back when the woman came stomping over to retrieve her dog. He thought he might’ve been able to slink away with a wave of the hand and a forgiving mutter if the woman hadn’t identified him as one of the four fugitive deities.

Charlton’s breath felt shallow, his heart beating in his throat. What was he supposed to do now? Maybe he could talk to her – reason with her. Maybe he should just run. He couldn’t go back to the castle or get a message there, but maybe his time in the forest had given him just enough survival skills to be able to live off the land someplace else. In the mountains, maybe. Or out on the moor.

The woman’s next words slowed his heartrate down somewhat, but didn’t entirely ease the tension from his shoulders. Charlton regarded her for a moment with brown-green eyes which matched the colours of the forest around him.

“No ma’am,” he said after a moment, his voice feeling hoarse from disuse. “I haven’t seen anyone who looks like you, but – ”

He hesitated. The last thing Charlton wanted was to say out loud what the weird little feeling in his gut was telling him, since it more or less guaranteed that the woman would be back. Then again, maybe it would earn him some loyalty. She wouldn’t turn him in if she needed him – at least, until she stopped needing him.

“I know your ren,” he said quietly. “It’s a pixiu. That’s, uh – a Chinese animal. It looks like a cross between a lion and a dragon.” He smiled very faintly. “They’re supposed to be good luck. Supposed to bring wealth.”