"Giggling barks echo from the trees, and a traveller may find their rucksack thoroughly plundered. Tents torn, chimneys stuffed with leaves, open windows swiftly invaded. All who live in or near the woods know well the mischievous inconvenience of the fairy weasel."
Fae Marten
Known also as fairy weasels, and touched long ago by a scheming fae, these cat-sized mammals have since spread across the continent and beyond, seeming to simply pop up wherever their magical benefactors have presence. As such, their "native" range is unknown, lost to time. They gather in woods, thriving best near civilization, and can be found commonly living in barns, either having moved in themselves, or as pets kept by the landowners. They can be distinguished easily from common woodland creatures by way of their shimmering pelts and resplendent "mohawk," a particularly fluffy mane of fur that runs down their back to their tail. Disturbing one tends to result in the little thief shaking this mane, scattering a cloud of blinding, glittering, and utterly infuriating to clean dust, which they use as a distraction to escape—or, at times, to gnaw on the shins of whichever poor sod deemed fit to bother them.
The colours are hardly the only thing the martens hold in common with the fae, as they share a remarkable level of intelligence. Unfortunately, this intelligence is mainly put to use in the form of pranks, thievery, and general nuisance. Fae martens are known well for their meanspirited jests, often culminating in frustrated tears and messes to clean up. Travellers must always beware their chittering laughs, for getting distracted in marten territory is a sure way to lose one’s rations, or perhaps a few socks. While they could always try to get their property back, the tree-vermin are ornery when disturbed against their wishes, and nests are defended with claws, teeth, and the dreaded glitter.
The best way to deal with them is, quite simply, to not react. If an "appropriate" degree of reaction is not incurred by its actions, the marten tends to try to find a more suitable target. It won't save someone's stolen socks, nor the chickens it set free, nor spare them the agony of sweeping the chimney clean of feathers and sap, but it may just save them from weeks- or even months-long "prank wars.”
They seem to get along best with children, occasionally even allowing themselves to be "tamed.” Beware, however, for it is said that a child who follows a marten 'cross more than three natural boundary lines (such as a stream, treeline, or row of stones) may find themselves lost in more ways than one. 'Tis best to leave offerings of bread and beer, their preferred treats, and ensure the little beasts know well their place in the household. Preferably, this is done on a night the child is resting, when one can corner the fae marten long enough to "lay down the house rules," as it were.
In all, the fae marten is a pest of a beast, and one considered the bane of housewives everywhere. One has not known pain 'till they find flour tracked 'cross four rooms and a bush's worth of berries under their sheets.
Written by Amelia Westlake, contributions from Reedie and Book