"Ah, he's not from my world," Carlisle clarifies, realizing too late that he should have done that on the front end. "Cisth, thank goodness there's no one from my world."

Finished spreading flour, he dusts off his hands. "His name is Shadow, and he claims he's not a Forest Folk, but he's a talking hedgehog who stands about yay tall" —he holds his hand around his middle— "and is just as stubborn as any one of them from my world could be. He has magic though, which does set him apart from the ones I've met back home. I've wondered a time or two if there are Forest Folk in other worlds, just as there are humans, but he seems temperamental about such questioning."

And with good reason -- his world, much like Carlisle's and Glacius', could be very unkind.