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It isn't that he's never seen a girl before. He has. His aunt is, technically, a girl--just taller and prouder and with the same unbridled ferocity in her toothy grin as he could faintly remember from his jumbled recollection of his mother. Then there's the mouse of a girl who helps keep things tidy in their little corner of the woods, who brings him little bits of sweets and suet among the apples and pinches his cheek fondly when he puts the gathered wood into neat piles. And there are the girls who flit through their lives like so many fluttering birds, stopping for a while to consult with his aunt and leaving with long straight spines and a secret in their smiles.
It's more that he's rarely ever seen one so close to his own age.
That's what's fascinating. This girl doesn't stand a head above him the way most other girls do. She doesn't have the sway in her body of the girls who sweep through their lives (teenagers, although he hasn't quite learned that yet). She's small the way he is; less a miniature of what he's used to and more something that comes before.
He doesn't know what to do with it. He knows to slip in silent shadow past the visitors and to tug affectionately at the swish of the cleaning girl's skirt, but he doesn't know what to make of such a young visitor to the sanctuary of their little glen. Even without a touch of magic, she'd likely have felt the quiet blue eyes (like your father, poor thing, Anti Morgan always tsks) peering uncertainly from the shadow at the door. He's been told to run along and scout about in the woods while Anti holds lessons, but he can't quite make it past the frame.
It's more that he's rarely ever seen one so close to his own age.
That's what's fascinating. This girl doesn't stand a head above him the way most other girls do. She doesn't have the sway in her body of the girls who sweep through their lives (teenagers, although he hasn't quite learned that yet). She's small the way he is; less a miniature of what he's used to and more something that comes before.
He doesn't know what to do with it. He knows to slip in silent shadow past the visitors and to tug affectionately at the swish of the cleaning girl's skirt, but he doesn't know what to make of such a young visitor to the sanctuary of their little glen. Even without a touch of magic, she'd likely have felt the quiet blue eyes (like your father, poor thing, Anti Morgan always tsks) peering uncertainly from the shadow at the door. He's been told to run along and scout about in the woods while Anti holds lessons, but he can't quite make it past the frame.
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Date: 2015-07-14 09:01 pm (UTC)The trip from home to glen is of no concern to her. But those eyes, lovely and blue, trouble her. She senses his nervous confusion the way she would in a colt before it shies away.
(She's always been good with animals. Her grandmother says it's a gift. Her father said it was the Devil's work, but her father died and her mother knew not what to do with her.)
In between lessons, when Lady Morgan isn't believed to be looking, glances over at the boy, a friendly smile offered each time. He'll come to her in his own time.
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Date: 2015-07-15 01:49 pm (UTC)It doesn't stop him from continuing to pop up now and then. He just vanishes as soon as he's noticed.
At least until the girl is done for the day. Then, with his aunt properly distracted by the next apparition in swishing fabric, he appears properly beside the point of his fascination.
"You're short."
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Date: 2015-07-15 02:00 pm (UTC)It isn't meant unkindly, and if he's agreeable to this sort of thing he'll find her little hand creeping into his. "Come on, while she's busy. Let's go play."
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Date: 2015-07-15 07:08 pm (UTC)He's far more distracted by the hand catching around his own. It's a little easier to focus on than her smile.
"--play?"
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Date: 2015-07-15 07:17 pm (UTC)Doesn't he know what fun is? Doesn't he want to know? Because she's going to try dragging him off now, away from the grown ups and their judging gazes.
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Date: 2015-07-15 10:01 pm (UTC)His fingers shift easily out of hers, but his feet continue to pad along beside. This version of 'fun' might be interesting.
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Date: 2015-07-15 10:05 pm (UTC)"Do you want to play hide and seek? Or do you want to hunt for mushrooms?"
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Date: 2015-07-17 03:42 pm (UTC)Mushrooms he knows. The long, half-interesting and half-boring process of finding everything his anti needs from the woods he knows.
Literally hiding or seeking he understands. This concept much less so.
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Date: 2015-07-17 04:48 pm (UTC)She pauses for a moment, head tilted back and to the side as she watches some birds passing overhead.
"We can take turns being the seeker. I bet you know all the best hiding places around here." This is an admirable skill, in her estimation.
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Date: 2015-07-18 12:07 pm (UTC)"Why?"
It's common to everything these days, but a little more pointed now.
"Why would you-- hide? Is the seeker going to hurt you?"
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Date: 2015-07-18 05:41 pm (UTC)Of course there are other skills and lessons it teaches, but they're too young to understand that.
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Date: 2015-07-18 05:58 pm (UTC)His first hours in the world had been in hiding, after all. Morgan hadn't gotten him very far before those seeking the May 1st children had appeared. It isn't something he remembers, but it's something that's stuck in his sense of self through these last ten years.
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Date: 2015-07-18 06:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-07-18 06:26 pm (UTC)"I can go anywhere?"
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Date: 2015-07-18 06:30 pm (UTC)"Let's stay in the forest. But anywhere in the forest is fine."
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Date: 2015-07-19 01:25 pm (UTC)And there's one more appraising consideration of the girl before him, eyes bright and curious.
Then he vanishes with a soft swish of fabric into the woods.
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Date: 2015-07-19 05:32 pm (UTC)"Ready or not, here I come!" Her voice is loud but more carrying than shouting, and she sounds excited. This will be an excellent game.
But instead of hurrying off, she takes her time looking around and considering. A whole new set of hiding places requires she be thoughtful. He might have gone up a tree, or he might be among the ferns behind a rock. She doesn't want to resort to help, not if she can help it.
This might take a while.
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Date: 2015-07-20 03:05 am (UTC)It's so easy, really, that he'll be spending as much time as he can simply following along behind her. He settles easily into the backs of trees and the shadows of roots; why not use it to watch the other half of the game from a safe distance?
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Date: 2015-07-20 03:23 am (UTC)And then, after an hour or so has passed, her drowsy pace quickens and now she disappears.
"Oh! Come see what I've found!"
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Date: 2015-07-20 01:16 pm (UTC)She's respectful. She's in touch with the woods without being a creature of it. She's fascinating to watch through tendrils of moss.
Her call has him hesitating. He's meant to be hiding, after all. She'll likely feel the prickle of indecision scattering through the air, radiating from him.
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Date: 2015-07-20 05:51 pm (UTC)On the other hand... "I really did find something."
If he come to peek at her, he'll find she's holding something in her hands and seems truly interested in it.
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Date: 2015-07-20 09:27 pm (UTC)It's more that he's made good friends with the growth of the woods that makes his voice seem to echo in a little whisper around her. "--is the game over?"
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Date: 2015-07-20 09:32 pm (UTC)In her hands she's holding a fairy stone, the hole worn soft and smooth, the stone mostly round and just small enough to be cupped in her palm.
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Date: 2015-07-21 02:24 am (UTC)"--where'd you find it?"
It's not the sort of something he'd expect to be left at random--or to be taken from a formation.
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Date: 2015-07-21 02:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
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