The grounds of the Mansion lay dark and dead, the trees grey and the grass sear and yellow-brown.
The air in the Mansion had a chilly feel to it, as if winter had crept into the woodwork. And once asleep, perhaps some Mansion dwellers dream of silvery winter days, building snow forts, lighting with candles.
When Mansion dwellers wake up, this
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So now there's a vaguely serious-looking little girl playing outside. She's happy, don't worry.
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That's because there is a pair of half-wild young elven twins observing her curiously from the shadows.
They'll be happy and playful in a minute, but for now, they're mostly, well, serious.
Just like her.
I realize I asked and then punted them, but I had this flash that they might work out well together. >.> Hope that's alright.
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"What are you looking at?"
It's fine XDDD <3
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"Do you mind?" The other asks, almost defensively, but not quite.
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"You're going to catch a cold," he informs her solemnly.
If anyone else wants an ickle!Paul, let me know, I'll give him a comment of his own.
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He pauses, colors brightly. "-- I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
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As he's running, though, the change takes place and by the time he reaches the porch, he's lost a foot and a half of height and about fourteen years off his (technical) age. And his voice is considerably higher-pitched as he calls out, "Hey, everybody, it *SNOWED*!"
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"I've missed the snow."
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He's wrapped in these happy meditations, when he suddenly realizes he can just peek over the window sill, from amid the folds of a white wool suit tailored for a very tall adult man, enough to muffle the startled -- and tiny -- seven year old now trying to dig out of them.
"Mother? Help! What is this?" he calls out in a soft chirp of a voice.
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He puts his hands in his pockets, eyebrows shooting up. "Well, hullo," he says, mostly to himself. "Don't I know you?"
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And there will be ammunition.
Boys, beware. The little girl of Tarth is on duty, and she has plenty of self-confidence.
It hasn't been shattered by a bitchy septa yet.
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Then.
He's quite a bit shorter and younger himself, and fiery freckles stand out on his pale, rather serious face. He pulls the coat around his thin shoulders and wanders out into the snow. He spies more red hair, bright in the snow.
Curious, he goes closer, unaware that he's like to get pelted with snow.
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It's thrown fairly hard, and despite her feminine laughter, she could easily pass for a strange boy at this age.
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