Mary-Anne: Chronicles

1

   Marys hands float forward about her, smiling, she begins to take baby steps forward. It was so dark, the light had been completely shunned by the warm scarf tied around her head to shield her eyes. Mary laughs as she heard his voice call out to her somewhere north. She heard the sound of fire crackling in the distance and then steps forward passing it along the way.
"You've got it, Mary! It's like training wheels," hearing this, she sends each of her fingers outward on either side of herself, spreading them as she'll gain trust to push herself forward. Giggling, her feet once scuffling across wooden floorboards, began to walk now, slowly but surely.
"That's it! Perfect," he says, she shakes her head as she attempts to seek out his voice.
"No," She laughs out, her hands now outward. Mary began to lose hope, "Agh! Marko!"

"Polo!" 

Aha, walking forwards a little, she expected her leg to brush across the dining room chair and she yelped as it did. "Dummy," Mary mutters to myself.

"You alright there, Mary? You give?"

Scoffing, she then bumps her hips sideways as she finds her way around the table, "No, you know me, Braeden. I never just 'give', " she points out, she finally squeezed by and hadn't realized where she stood, "unless there's a legitimate reason to-",

She felt hands reach out and grab her stomach, her eyes widen behind the scarf and she breaks into laughter, Brae had been tickling her!

Frantic, she rips the scarf from around her head and beats him with it. "I give, I give! OK, alright!" She repeatedly strains to yell and she couldn't break free from his sneak attack. Mary turns around in a jiffy but he pulled her from the ground as the scarf fell to the floor in a heap. Kicking her feet in the air, her sneakers flying around with each thrust of her feet individually.
Brae growls all beastly as he pretends to tear into Marys neck from behind her, she then screams bloody murder and  tries to escape his death grip around her waist.

"Dammit, Brae!"

Laughing, he eventually lands her to her feet in one piece.
Mary turns around and jabs a finger into his face, playfully glaring at him.

"You better put that finger somewhere safe or I'll bite it." He snaps at it and she pulls it away with a squeal.

"I hate you, Braeden!" Mary screams in defeat while  bending over to pick the scarf up from the ground in where she took notice it had fallen to.

Mary blinked, confused, then looks around.

"Now, I know ya don't mean that." He replies in his Au natural southern drawl. Mary pulls a strand of her brown hair behind her right ear as she tilts her head to have a look under the wicker table.
"What're ya looking for?" He questions eventually.
"The red scarf, babe. I took it and beat you with it and it fell onto the ground here." She had been on her knees now, brushing her bare hands as though it'd just pop up from nowhere.
"I'm purty sure it'll show up 'ventually."

"Yeah, well," She shot back, "the thing with that is, it was Grammas."

Brae bends over and glances under the table, as he does so, she glanced up to him. Frowning, he shakes his head to her.

"Sorry, princess. Don't see it nowhere."

Mary sarcastically frowns back in mock and slaps his shoulder on her way back up. "Ya know how I hate that word," She complained, then mumbles at him,

"princess." Rolling her eyes.

Braeden stands back up himself.
"Like I say, it'll show up 'ventually." He repeated reassuringly, she would have smiled to him and let things slide-