One or another of Narngi's fiances gave her a cursed beast.
A blossomary, for those of you who live on worlds where the animal and vegetable domains are not the provinces of a pair of well-intentioned but sometimes cranky and quarrelsome deities, is a mild-mannered weasellish sort of an animal. Except, of course, that where any self-respecting weasellish sort of an animal has fur, a blossomary has flowers: tight little frondy-petalled flowers, but undeniably flowers.
Sprillet is an undeniably cute cursed beast. His flowers are white and pale purple, in chevron patters down his back, and smell of lilac and pseliocynth. His face has a target pattern of brighter and paler purple. I did not know that we had so many nitches and holes in the parlor ... well, in the Arena of Massacres and Spectacles of Blood, I guess we're calling, though after some actual blood was drawn there we might want to rename it.
Blossomaries are, however, cursed. According to a popular children's story, Virid created the blossomary fairly early on, before primes -- the natural philosophers agree with that, by the way. She showed it to Kvarse, the Corpador goddess. Now, this was at the very start of the rivalry between Kvarse and Lenhirrik, and of course the blossomary was half-animal half-vegetable. Kvarse didn't like it, and poked it with a pointy clawed finger. It bit her. Kvarse, quite reasonably, took a fit, and threw the blossomary at Virid. And that, say the children's stories, is why blossomaries have such a low resistance to Corpador magic considering that they're half Herbador.
I don't know if it's true. I do know that blossomaries are remarkably unremarkable elementally -- just as easy to use magic on as if they weren't half plant. Ordinarily you'd need to use both Herbador and Corpador on them; but you do not. This is crucial, because I daresay we're going to need to cast a finding-spell every day or two to collect Sprillet out of the top of the ancient and cubbyful cabinet of chalices.
In any case, Sprillet has made up his mind to displace Pazi-Pazi from everyone's affections. (Pazi-Pazi enthusiastically agrees, of course; she did not want those affections anyways!) Sprillet has been squiggling around the house, nuzzling against every ankle he can find. In the case of the Herethroy, extra ankles were made for him. (Monsters, note: Herethroy can go on two or four legs. Both Dustweed and Agrimony were observed to drop to four legs whenever Sprillet sleegled into the room. Three times in Agrimony's case!)
I recommended immediately that we get a couple of petals -- she drops a a dozen a day, and grows new ones -- for use as connections to find him. He immediately demonstrated just why he is cursed. He decided immediately to take a couple of feathers for use as a connection to finding me.
Two of them were immediately removed from his mouth. The third of them we found stashed in a cubbyhole a couple hours later.