𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙 || ʲ. ᶠʳᵒˢᵗ

i • annoyingly cold encounters

          The fire was warm as the little girl sat with content, a hand stretched out in greeting to the welcoming flames.

          The wood crackled and popped as it grew bigger and bigger, the bright orange tainting the cold snow an interesting color. The little girl didn't know if it was because of the fire, or the other red liquid that seeped from beneath the rubble.

          "Please. . ." She raises a brow at the sounds of an aching voice, the body clawing their way through dirt and snow. "Please. . . help me. . ."

          . . .

          Despicable.

          She only stares with that cold glare of hers, young yet angry and understandably so. They burn down the forest with so little care, yet they dare ask for aid when the same is done to them?

          "Where were you when I needed it?" Her voice was crisp through the cold air as the body gasped for one last desperate attempt to breathe, turning her attention away as they collapse a final time on the snow.

          She stands and leaves after a good while, her torn clothes following behind as she walks away from what little ash remained of where her village once stood.

• • •

        "Go fish."

          "I don't even know how this bloody game works!"

          You cackle maniacally in victory as Bunny throws his remaining cards on the table, kicking off the chair he sat on in the process before storming off like the big baby that he was. And as soon as he was out of sight the baby tooth under the table giggled, the cards she held barely still in her grip slipping and falling onto the floor in small heaps.

          "Good job." You praised her quietly with a small laugh of your own, taking the cards and arranging them properly before she flew off to go tell Tooth what she helped you do.

          "You know, one of these days you're gonna regret making him so angry," North laughed in that accent of his, fashioning an unnecessarily sharp candy cane in one hand while the other held the small knife that helped shape it, "He's a man with many grudges, Y/N."

          "And I'm a woman with many enemies," You snickered, a part of your hand dissipating into the beautiful leaves of autumn to carry off the box of cards. Where your limb detached remained the gathering of the rest of nature, looking like a cut off tree stump as you let the flowing sleeves of your attire cover it.

          "Now are we going or what? I have a thing or two to say to Mr. Frosty the Snowman." North raises a thick brow, amusement playing on his face, "You do know that he isn't the cause of winter, right? At least I don't think."

          "Well he's the personification of it and it's the closest thing I can get to having revenge," You answer with just as much snark, extending your tree stump-like cut-off to attach the rest of the orange and brown leaves, before they morphed back to form your hand. "Stupid winter with it's stupid need to kill off my trees."

          "You know trees do that themselves, yes? I thought it was to conserve their energy." You laugh again, this time more dry and with not a single trace of humor, "They wouldn't have to if it didn't snow," You shake your head, "Seriously I don't know why we're arguing about this, North, I'm still going to win."

          "And it seems you are right, dorogaya." The conversation left at that, groaning as you felt your joints pop in satisfaction. It was weird, really, you thought that maybe after you died you wouldn't have to deal with such mortal problems like backpain and your knees feeling like literal glass. But alas, it seems that a hundred years of being dead buried under a mountain can give someone a mean case of arthritis.