[Open Log with Jeliza~]

[unclouded_rose]

She'd stayed out too late, she realized, as she got off the ride she'd just been on -- Pirates of the Carribean, since she'd just met a pirate -- Only to find that it had gotten dark by the time she got off of it. Even with the lights the came on through the park, Jeliza didn't like being about in the dark by herself. Her overactive imagination

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[ms_weatherwax]

Granny rolled her eyes at the scream.

"No need to act like that, you know."

[unclouded_rose]

She screamed again at the sight of the woman -- Perhaps not a bog woman, but definitely a witch. "Don't eat me! I don't wanna be a part of your house -- I'll, I'll massage your legs!" She cried, it being the first thing she could think of to barter with, knowing that sometimes witches would make children work for them instead of eating them -- She just had to make sure not to eat anything now that she was the old crone's slave, her imagination supplied.

[ms_weatherwax]

A few emotions flashed over Granny's face: Confusion, humor, and finally settled on annoyance. "My legs is just fine, thank you. And my house is made of wood, not girls. Now quit your screamin'."

[unclouded_rose]

She didn't seem to fully believe the old woman right away. "...Is the wood made out of girls?" She asked further, thinking herself rather clever for that one.

[ms_weatherwax]

At least she wasn't screaming anymore. "The wood's made out of trees."

[unclouded_rose]

"...Oh." Well, now she was disappointed. It seemed that even with all the very cool people around her -- People that came from worlds with real magic and real pirates and faeries and other creatures she hadn't even heard of -- She was still her boring, normal self. She hung her head in disappointment, her dark hair drooping past her face and hiding her sour expression.

[ms_weatherwax]

Granny Weatherwax was many things. Good with children was not one of them. She took one look at Jeliza's down turned head and the expression on her face and said the first thing that came to mind. "There's no need to be moping about, either." Which, of course, is not generally the best route to take with a sad child.

[unclouded_rose]

Generally not, and in this case, it was also the wrong route to take, for the child involved was not as stable as most. "Yes there is!" She cried in response, her head still downcast as she reached up and rubbed at her eyes. "I--I miss Dickens!" It was the first thing she could think to complain of.

[ms_weatherwax]

Granny shook her head and continued to try logic. "Everyone here misses things. Don't see us moping about because of it."

[unclouded_rose]

At first she was mildly stunned by that. But she was a child, and slightly callous at that. "Then ya must not miss them as much as I miss him!" She declared poutily.

[ms_weatherwax]

"Might be," Granny said coolly. "I wouldn't say it was my place to suggest who misses what and how much."

[unclouded_rose]

"Then who's to suggest it ain't worth mopin' over?" She went on, but cautiously now. She'd seldom gotten away with talking to adults like she was at the moment.

[ms_weatherwax]

"It ain't worth moping over," Granny said rather harshly, "because moping don't change things."