Tales of a first time father

Pretty Fingers

*Sniff sniff*

"Ooh, I thought I heard someone sniffling."

Looking up, Métis is met with a sight of a man in all black. His hat blocks his eyes, but his crooked smile can be seen all the same.

"Why do you sniffle little one? Has something happened?"

*Sniff sniff* Métis nods, her little puffballs bounce along with the motion. Sparkling streams of tears run down puffed brown cheeks as she shows the old man her hand.

"Oh dear." His tall lanky body oddly shifts while he kneels down to her hight. "You have a sliver."

Métis tilted her head, looking at the man confused.

"A sliver my dear. I am referring to that bit of wood that has oh so rudely found it's way into your finger."

"Slu-fer?"

"Precisely my dear child. I can get it out for you, if that is ok?"

Métis did not know this man. He was every right a stranger and she should not talk to strangers. Yet, she felt as if she'd had done this before with many others. Came across those who were more than they appeared.

Taking the tiny hand in his own boney long fingered one, he brings the injured appendage closer to his face and near his mouth. In an instant his face contorts, sprouting into multiple tendrils with chirp ends. It would take nothing at all for the old man to simply bite the little girls hand, but instead the mandibles very carful pull the offending wood from her finger and into the dark void that was his mouth. "There we are, all better."

The old man was right. Gone was the itchy pain in her finger and it felt a lot better. Métis's round hazel eyes look to the now normal old man, offering a wide smile. "Tank you mister."

The old man return her smile with a crooked one of his own. "Why you are most welcome my dear. Now, run along home." He says, nudging her in the right direction. "No more stops for today. Straight home and nowhere else."

"Otay." Métis waves goodbye to the odd old man and head for home unsure if their paths will ever cross again. Who knows? Fate always works in mysterious ways.