While Xairth and Lyke bicker about various subjects, Morrowwood strikes. He lets out a squeal as he clasps the cookie jar, sprinting away on fast mirror legs and leaping into the night. The darkness of the wetlands is reminiscent of the flight Morrowwood came from, and he's able to escape quickly into the woods.

Flashlights filter through the canopy, shining in Morrowwood's eyes, The half-empty cookie jar gets drawn closer, and he bares his teeth. Nobody will get between him and his cookies. The two faes find him, spine arched, fangs at the ready, tail lashing.
"Morrowwood, no need to kill us over-"
"My cookies!" The mirror snarls, clenching the jar so tightly that it may break.
"Morrowwood, we need you to give us the cookies. If you give us those cookies, we'll bake you more. But we can't do that without the cookie jar," Lyke tries to reason.
"No!" He screeched, looking like he's about to attack the two. "What if you trick me? I want these cookies!"

"Very well... Xairth, you know what to do." Lyke nods to the other fae, and she begins to weave magic into a soft blue spell. After a bit of silence, Xairth tosses the blue light at Morrowwood, and he drops to the forest floor sleeping.

Morrowwood wakes up back in his own hammock, and immediately tries to find his beloved cookie jar. "Cookies! My cookies!" He whines, circling around like an upset puppy dog. But then something soft and warm hits him on his bony head, and he snaps at it to find that it... is a cookie. "Fresh baked, nice and soft, just the right balance of sugar and salt..." He wheels around to find Xairth holding a tray of cookies.

"Here you go," Xairth laughs, tossing another at the mirror.