Tinkerbell: Look, look! There were many tiny animals from the outside world like us!
Periwinkle: Yeah! Like this deer!
Tinkerbell: And this little squirrel!
Tinkerbell & Periwinkle: Aww.
Gilgamesh: Of course there were so many of them! I help with gods take their escape from the great flood! Humans think themselves rulers of beasts, yet they’re nothing but animals with fancier excuses.
Punch: Ha! You finally said something true. I mean, they build walls, name the stars, and call that superiority? Please. They still eat, fight, breed, and die like the rest of us.
Gilgamesh: Exactly. A lion kills for hunger. A man kills for pride. Tell me which is the beast.
Tinkerbell: Oh, great. Here we go again with the “humans are animals” debate.
Periwinkle: Last time, they scared half the squirrel families into hiding for a week.💧
Punch: You fairies should be proud! You live with nature, not above it.
Gilgamesh: Perhaps that’s why they still have wings. Humans lost theirs the moment they crowned themselves gods.
Tinkerbell: Do you ever regret inviting them for tea?💧
Periwinkle: Every second since they opened their mouths. Ha...ha...💧
Gilgamesh: Punch, one day, nature will reclaim what humans think they own.
Punch: I’ll be there to watch it happen — and maybe clap.
Tinkerbell: Okay, okay! Enough doom and philosophy for one night!
Periwinkle: *pat Tink’s arm* Let’s just… leave them to argue with the trees. The trees have more patience.
Tinkerbell: Nice one, Peri!
The forest feels different in autumn. The air carries a whisper of change — crisp, golden, alive. Every leaf that falls sounds like a soft laugh from the trees. And somewhere between the dancing reds and the quiet golds, my sister and I are laughing too.
Periwinkle holding a tiny squirrel in her hands,
Tinkerbell: He likes you.
She smiles — that kind of smile that melts the chill right out of the air.
For so long, I thought my world ended at the border between warm and cold. But now, as Periwinkle tosses a handful of orange leaves into the air, I see that the two worlds were never meant to be apart. They meet here — in the middle — where frost and flame become one color.
She laughs again — the sound like a chime carried by the wind.
She's pointing to a pair of tiny chipmunks climbing a fallen log.
Tinkerbell: They’re racing — just like us!
And I laugh too, because she’s right. We used to race the snowflakes and the dandelions, never realising we were both chasing the same sky. I reach out and take her hand. It’s cool, like the first frost — but it doesn’t feel distant anymore. It feels right. Like two halves of the same season, we finally found each other. And as the leaves swirl around us, glowing in the last golden light of the day, I whisper to her — not loud enough for the forest to hear:
"I’m glad you’re my sister, Peri. I'm glad you're alive. And this time, we'll spend time on the best lives we have from now on!"
