#rediscover

Shelter

Tip looked up as a knock sounded at the door to the set of rooms they all shared in Atlas. He wasn't expecting anyone, but everybody else was away at the moment. He shrugged, putting his book down and getting to his feet, maybe they were after Qrow?

Moving over to the door, though, it revealed a boy not much older than Tip was, who blinked down at him in surprise.

"Uh... Wintertip Pine?" The boy enquired, sounding rather doubtful.

Tip nodded. "Yes, that would be me. Why?" His hand crept towards the hilt of his rapier as he spoke, though, eyes busily scanning for anyone else that might have come with the boy. To catch him alone was rare enough that this just seemed to scream 'trap' to him.

"I have something I need to deliver to you. Your eyes only, though... I was expecting you to be rather older?" The boy shrugged and held out a bound scroll. Tip took it, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Any idea what this is about?" He asked, hoping to at least get some context clues from the strange event. Though he doubted Salem would have provided any written evidence of her plans if it was actually her, that would be so far out of character that... well, never mind.

He slit the seal open and scanned the contents, stopping halfway through to adjust his glasses slightly. The paper was a strange shade of almost purple, though the ink seemed normal enough. Was it... scented? His eyebrow rose further upon the discovery that yes, yes it was... this was not exactly normal correspondance to send to an eleven year old.

He noted the name and almost smiled. Lady Greenbriar had been the older woman on Atlas Council, the one that had taken none of James' attitude and had seemed to recognise him. He had no real memory of her, but maybe this meeting could change that?

She wanted him to come alone, which was slightly problematic, but she had specified a time about an hour from now, the others wouldn't be back yet. If he was quick enough, maybe they'd never need to know? He was pretty sure she wouldn't harm him, at least.

He smiled at the boy who'd delivered it and nodded to him. "Please inform her that I'll be there and thank you." The boy looked weirdly more intimidated by Tip's calm acknowledgement of what was really a summons than he had to delivering the letter. Ah well, maybe this wasn't the normal reaction, but Tip was highly curious now...

Picking out clothing took less time than it might have, had the lady in question not probably once been a friend of his father's. Ah well, at least Winter might be happy that he'd chosen Schnee colors for this? It felt slightly manipulative, but it could give him an advantage if the talk went south... and if Winter found out where he was, he knew she tended to be more gentle when reminded forcefully that they were related.

Brothers, but he hated doing that... he wasn't a child, he wasn't helpless... he wasn't even really that sickly anymore with the help of his aura. They needed to stop treating him as though he would break, he was an accomplished Huntsman, after all...

He froze in the doorway to the room where he had been told to meet her. She wasn't alone, a man sat with her who was familiar. Why was Lark Winchester of all people here, though? He was aware that like the Ironwoods... and the Schnee's, the Winchesters had lost a child to that same kidnapping circle, but why would he be interested in Tip, of all people? He wasn't Wren Winchester, after all... he couldn't bring her back.

A flash, then, briefest memory hitting. Wren, her blonde hair and her... oh no... her bright green eyes. He shook himself out of it, though. He had to be imagining things.

"So, this is the child you wanted me to meet, my lady?" Lark's voice was light, but his eyes were hard as he stared at the tousle haired little boy.

"Does he really look that unfamiliar to you, Lark?" Lady Greenbriar's tone held laughter, her eyes soft as she, too, looked at Tip.

"I..." Lark broke off, sweeping a second, more assessing look over Tip. He shook his head slightly, looked again. Tip felt rather like an insect under the microscope at that point, but suppressed the feeling. His shoulders straightened as he met Lark's eyes.

Lark Winchester, pillar of the community in Atlas that he was, proud chairman of the Winchester Military Equipment Company, started to swear. Lady Greenbriar looked impressed. Tip just grinned at him, which seemed to set off a fresh round of profanity, slowly getting more impressive before Lark regained control of himself.

"... Winter?" It wasn't really a question, though. Tip nodded, grin more rueful now and Lark just closed his eyes briefly.

"What happened to you? How are you... why are you...? You know what? Never mind, that can wait. I'm just so damn glad you're alive!"

Tip blushed, even as Lady Greenbriar sighed. "Unfortunately there's more to it than that, Lark. It turns out that little Winter Schnee here is the wizard."

"Excuse me?" Lark stated it flatly, disbelief in every iota of his body language.

"Unfortunately, yes." Tip agreed, calmly. He adjusted his hold on The Long Memory pointedly and Lark's eyes flew to the cane.