[Witches' Horses] Vasilisa
Title: prodigal return
'Verse/characters: Vasilisa; Zhenia, Ilyana, Vasilisa
Prompt: 50A "possibility"
Word Count: 469
Notes: towards the end. Prompted by a poll response. Skipped the alternate language on this one.
Zhenia was very carefully not demanding of her sister what on earth their mother could have done to the generator that they still couldn't get it going, even with jump-starts from neighbours' batteries, when Ilyana stopped herself halfway through a sentence to breathe "Boje moi" while looking over Zhenia's shoulder.
Zhenia turned to look, then dropped the wrench she was holding and took off running, Ilyana not far from her heels.
Vasilisa had just emerged from the woods, carrying what looked like a basket of tools balanced atop a battery's carrying case. Her doll was wedged in among the tools, and went tumbling with everything else when Zhenia grabbed Vasilisa, crying and hugging her little sister, tumbling them both to the ground and dragging Vasilisa into her lap.
"Vasya, Vasilushka, are you all right?" she was demanding through her tears, safe in the knowledge that Ilyana was keeping watch, just in case their mother appeared. Vasilisa looked all right, thinner than when she'd left and smudged here and there with dirt, but nothing broken or badly bruised, for her time in the woods.
Vasilisa threw her arms around Zhenia's neck, pressed hot tears against her skin for a while, then pushed away a little. "I got what she wanted," she said solemnly, then wiped at her eyes with a ragged-edged sleeve.
"You got--oh, no," Zhenia breathed, looking at the tangle of tools she didn't recognise, and the old battery case. "Vasilushka, tell me you weren't--" but she broke off when her little sister looked up at her with old eyes, tugged her back to hug her tightly.
"Can we go to town tomorrow?" Vasilisa asked softly, into Zhenia's chemise. "Just the three of us?"
"I don't know," Zhenia began, but Ilyana, who was eying the basket like it had a viper inside it said "She'd let us," in a flat tone.
"If you said you were taking us in for schoolbooks and batteries, she wouldn't even blink," Ilyana continued. "Not with that" she made a warding sign "as a new toy."
"Please?" Vasilisa asked, just before Ilyana shoved at Zhenia's shoulder, made her stand up and just hold Vasilisa's hand, as their mother rounded the corner.
"I got what you wanted," Vasilisa said, before their mother could do more than blink at the three of them and draw breath to ask a question.
Their mother blinked again, then something lit up in her face. "Really? Bring it here, then--"
Zhenia let go reluctantly as Vasilisa bent to retrieve the battery case and the tools. The doll was shoved out of sight in her clothes.
Their mother accepted the burden with hungry eyes, and when Zhenia said in studied neutral tones that she would be taking her sisters into town the next day to get supplies she hardly even blinked.
'Verse/characters: Vasilisa; Zhenia, Ilyana, Vasilisa
Prompt: 50A "possibility"
Word Count: 469
Notes: towards the end. Prompted by a poll response. Skipped the alternate language on this one.
Zhenia was very carefully not demanding of her sister what on earth their mother could have done to the generator that they still couldn't get it going, even with jump-starts from neighbours' batteries, when Ilyana stopped herself halfway through a sentence to breathe "Boje moi" while looking over Zhenia's shoulder.
Zhenia turned to look, then dropped the wrench she was holding and took off running, Ilyana not far from her heels.
Vasilisa had just emerged from the woods, carrying what looked like a basket of tools balanced atop a battery's carrying case. Her doll was wedged in among the tools, and went tumbling with everything else when Zhenia grabbed Vasilisa, crying and hugging her little sister, tumbling them both to the ground and dragging Vasilisa into her lap.
"Vasya, Vasilushka, are you all right?" she was demanding through her tears, safe in the knowledge that Ilyana was keeping watch, just in case their mother appeared. Vasilisa looked all right, thinner than when she'd left and smudged here and there with dirt, but nothing broken or badly bruised, for her time in the woods.
Vasilisa threw her arms around Zhenia's neck, pressed hot tears against her skin for a while, then pushed away a little. "I got what she wanted," she said solemnly, then wiped at her eyes with a ragged-edged sleeve.
"You got--oh, no," Zhenia breathed, looking at the tangle of tools she didn't recognise, and the old battery case. "Vasilushka, tell me you weren't--" but she broke off when her little sister looked up at her with old eyes, tugged her back to hug her tightly.
"Can we go to town tomorrow?" Vasilisa asked softly, into Zhenia's chemise. "Just the three of us?"
"I don't know," Zhenia began, but Ilyana, who was eying the basket like it had a viper inside it said "She'd let us," in a flat tone.
"If you said you were taking us in for schoolbooks and batteries, she wouldn't even blink," Ilyana continued. "Not with that" she made a warding sign "as a new toy."
"Please?" Vasilisa asked, just before Ilyana shoved at Zhenia's shoulder, made her stand up and just hold Vasilisa's hand, as their mother rounded the corner.
"I got what you wanted," Vasilisa said, before their mother could do more than blink at the three of them and draw breath to ask a question.
Their mother blinked again, then something lit up in her face. "Really? Bring it here, then--"
Zhenia let go reluctantly as Vasilisa bent to retrieve the battery case and the tools. The doll was shoved out of sight in her clothes.
Their mother accepted the burden with hungry eyes, and when Zhenia said in studied neutral tones that she would be taking her sisters into town the next day to get supplies she hardly even blinked.