There are several practical things one should know before agreeing to borrow a familiar in Everhallow.

First: the word temporary is largely for the witch’s emotional comfort.

Second: foxes have no respect for drawers, market baskets, personal correspondence, carefully folded scarves, or the concept of private property.

Third: if the familiar in question begins carrying your possessions to the same address over and over again, it is generally considered wise to ask why.

Iris Quill did not ask why immediately.

This was understandable. She had an irritated russet fox in temporary care, a reputation for being exceptionally good with magical animals, and every reason to believe the situation could be handled with patience, competence, and sufficiently secure cupboards.

Then one of her gloves appeared in Graham Pembroke’s bindery.

Then something else did.

And something else.

By the time Everhallow began taking an interest, Graham had developed a system for returning Iris’s belongings, Iris had developed a growing suspicion that Mallow was doing all of this on purpose, and Mallow had developed absolutely no interest in explaining himself.

The Almanac therefore records the following for future reference:
A fox who keeps choosing the same door is probably telling you something.

The difficulty lies in determining exactly what.

Everhallow keeps a surprising number of records concerning familiar behavior.

There are notes about cats who refuse to cross particular thresholds, ravens who collect buttons from dishonest people, rabbits who sleep beside spellbooks that ought not be opened, and at least one hedgehog whose opinions about civic planning remain unnecessarily strong.

There is considerably less guidance on what to do when a borrowed fox develops an attachment to a bookbinder’s shop.

Perhaps that is because the important question is not why Mallow keeps going there.

Perhaps it is what he keeps carrying with him.

A glove is only a glove, after all.

Until it is returned by a man who remembers which hand it belongs to.

A notebook is only paper.

Until someone notices what has been written in the margins.

And a place is only a place—until you begin to wonder why you keep finding reasons to go back.

The Almanac has not yet reached a conclusion regarding Iris Quill, Graham Pembroke, or the russet fox currently disrupting both of their routines.

But Everhallow has learned not to ignore a familiar who keeps choosing the same door.

Particularly when the humans involved are still insisting it means nothing.