cadcamlan | always follow the voices beneath | childhood

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

"This is true. My grandmother leaves out a dish of cream and honey every night, and she says it's always empty in the morning."

She kneels to carefully set the stone back where she found it, careful not to crush the moss.

"My lord father said it was the cats. He believed in nothing but his own strength, and now he's dead." This is troubling for her for a number of reasons.

From:

cadcamlan

That, at last, pulls a less reflexive smile to his lips. One finger lifts, without brushing the stone, to trace along the line of the ribbon being left to the fairies.

"It wouldn't be cats." His aunt calls him her little wolf cub, but Mordred had inherited his mother's soft spot for feline companions. "They're too clever to take what's been left for their better friends."

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

Cats and dogs can learn to live together. Every wolf can be tamed, and every cat can go feral.

"I don't think it's the cats either. My grandmother's cats are very smart. They know when the weather will turn and also when someone will grow ill." It's nice to have someone to talk to about this. Someone her own age who understands.

From:

cadcamlan

Understanding is new, but it sits well in his heart. Another child his own age is new, but it's starting to feel natural, the way lots of new things can at this early stage of life.

"And when to clear out."

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

"That too. Cats are good friends to have."

She sits back on her heels, pushing her hair out of her face. "Did cats teach you how to hide so well?"

From:

cadcamlan

"No, hogen."

She doesn't have a name, after all. She possibly oughtn't have a name, since he's not at all certain he'll be allowed to speak with her again.

"A fox did."

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

It would be tragic if they were separated so early in their friendship. But now she's left something of herself in his forest, and they could find each other again.

"Foxes are good, clever creatures." She approves of this. "You're lucky."

From:

cadcamlan

His head bobs unconsciously. Half the girls who flit through his life wouldn't be inclined to say anything nice about the little brood living just beyond the edge of the glen.

"I'm not so lucky. It's manners."

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

Everyone has their preferences. Some girls like foxes, others like boys. Llinos is pretty sure she's made the better choice.

"That too. Your aunt must be very proud of you."

From:

cadcamlan

There aren't many better ways to Mordred's heart than being sweet about his aunt. Apparently, there are even fewer than expressing his aunt must in some way treasure him.

His entire chest puffs up briefly with pleasure. "She is. When-- I'm good."

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

How fortunate she has no reason to think ill of Lady Morgan.

"The people who love us always want us to be good. Sometimes they have different ideas about what that means."

From:

cadcamlan

"Different?"

He only has the one, after all. He can't recall any of the other ghosts who had loved him with much clarity at all.

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

She nods, leaning in to share a great secret of the world with him. "Adults are all different."

It was a startling revelation for her, and she hopes it won't be too difficult for him to accept.

From:

cadcamlan

He really only knows the one adult. Honestly, he really only knows one person, for all he's met dozens all told. He doesn't even know the name of the girl he's currently run off into the lovely dark of the afternoon woods.

"Aren't all people?"

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

"Yes. But adults like to pretend they all agree on things. At least when talking to children. Even if they all give you the same answer about something, they might argue about it when they don't know you can hear."

From:

cadcamlan

His head bobs thoughtfully, gaze flicking up toward the treetops in consideration.

"Will you? When you're grown?"

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

"I don't know." It's a fair question, but she doesn't have prophetic powers. "I hope not. Will you?"

From:

cadcamlan

"I don't know."

If he'll be an adult, really. That seems difficult to assure.

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

She considers the problem for long moments before offering, "We could make a pact that we will remind each other to be good when we're older."

From:

cadcamlan

"A pact?"

His lips press together firmly for a moment, bright sparks of blue glancing back and forth between her eyes thoughtfully.

"...all right."

From:

linnetbornwithinthecage

She doesn't smile, because this is far too solemn a thing for smiles. She holds out a hand to him instead.

"I so swear."

Two kids so wrapped up in magic probably should know better.

From:

cadcamlan

They should both know better. At least they know better enough than to bite their thumbs and seal it with blood.

Mordred will be spitting in his hand for the shake, though.