wild

Winter was always one of her favorite times of year. While she may be wet and cold at all times at least she had her playmate. Water was always around her and Fiadh was overjoyed. Aware that she was always being watched for her strange behavior. She would frolic outside with just a t-shirt and shorts on. Making snow angels and the like with her gift. Her gift that she loved and others deemed a freak accident. Fiadh allowed her hair to get drenched in the snow as she gathered some in her hands and she blew air in between. “Can I help you?” she called to the onlooker.

“Then you should count yourself truly lucky,” she said with a smile, “There are several I know who would think to do exactly that.” Fiadh was thinking of the fey she had grown used to. Those who whispered about her. Picked on her and made cruel unrelenting jokes on her behalf. Of course, there were those who would tell her to take no mind of them. But she was a fragile soul and cruelty made wounds that were cut deep into her. Though as she sat with this being she felt no such thing from him. He seemed much too kind and soft for such antics. “I am not who I was meant to be,” she said simply, “There are those who see this as weak and fragile. In some aspects they are not wrong. I am fragile but not in the way they think.” Her fingers danced over the petals of the flowers as she thought about who she had met in her times here. How many knew who and what she was. Judging her before they had gotten the chance to even get to know her. How it had cut her soul. “You’re not like most others I have met,” she said, “You’re much kinder than those who whisper.”

Fiahd knew that she had thrown him off guard. Confused him perhaps. But she was used to that. Used to others evading her and going out of their way to avoid her. After all, she should have been a flora, should she not. Confusion seemed to follow her wherever she went. She stood, her smile faltering just a bit as she remembered those who whispered about her. Thinking that perhaps in her hast to water the flowers she had taken advantage of the thought that he didn’t know of the whispers. Maybe she was wrong. It wasn’t long before her smile stong again. “Best when laid bare?” she said, curious, “I do prefer to survey my peers when in their most vulnerable. After all, most think me weak.” Fiahd tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowing for a moment before her eyes focused on the flowers who seemed to be flourishing well now after her water dousing. “A beautiful happening,” she said though her language was little muddled, “I do like this better than most.”

Hearing their voice was an initial shock to the fey. When she had made her demand she was half expecting not to hear anything at all. If anything she was expecting to hear hushed whispers and gasps as she usually had when she was being followed. Fiadh supposed she wasn’t being followed... not this time at least. Not after seeing what they were doing. Her eyes averted at the comment. Not sure how to respond if at all. “I, um, well,” she said, stammering over every word the came out of her mouth, “All of you, I s’ppose?” Without giving it much thought, she walked nearer the being who followed. Fiadh was so used to being alone or accompanied by whispers that she never truly thought of what it might be like to have a real conversation with someone who didn’t wish ill of her. She knelt down beside him, one hand extended and placed on the place where he was picking the flowers. A shot of water burst from her hand, burying itself in the soul where the flowers made their home. “I don’t think you were, erm, following me. Were you?” she added meekly.

Boredom had sort of become second nature to the fey. Watering what she could every day could only get her so far and Fiahd had become almost lethargic. Almost. It was nearly noon when she managed to slip away. Some time alone surely would wake her up. Some time playing with the water instead of working. Looking over her shoulder every few steps, FIadh managed to slip away into the unknown world (as she liked to think of it.) Her bare feet making dead spots where she stepped as they absorbed the water in the grass. It was then that she heard a soft sort of voice behind her. Fiadh halted where she stood. Whipping around quickly to see who had followed her. “Show yourself,” she called, her voice barely above a whisper itself.