The small child nearly crashed into Gikka and stepped on the disguised Bibrid to hide among Wraithvine's robes. When gently asked the fear, the child admitted to playing in the house despite their mother's warnings, and breaking a window.
"Mommie's gonna be SO mad!"
"Oh child, you know, if you tell her you're sorry, and admit what you did, I bet she won't be mad long." -- The New Guy
It was raining, but not heavily enough to drive people indoors or under shelter. A light, constant patter that made the day longer and more miserable for those who had to work in it. In conditions like that, small children should not be outdoors.
That was why Bibrid and Gikka were picking themselves off the street and Wraithvine was almost knocked off hir feet.
The child was Human, and about as grubby as a child their age could get under normal circumstances. They were also clinging to Wraithvine's leg and whimpering.
"Please steal me away, mister Elf?" said the child. "You can turn me into a vampire or a Troll or anything you like."
This was a very... rural... area. Isolated from a lot of the greater world. "I don't steal children without cause," said Wraithvine. "And I certainly don't turn them into anything else."
"But'cha got a Goblin and you shrunked a Dragon," said the child. "You gotta steal me away. Please?"
Gikka and Bibrid were exchanging looks, neither willing to say who the real Dragon was, lest the other be the Gobelliin in question. And speaking of questions, Wraithvine asked the selfsame one a child might also ask, "Why?"
"I've been bad," said the child. "Momma tolded me not to play with my ball, but I forgot and now the window's broken and I gotta get stoled by the fairies 'cause of how I'm evil now."
That was one heck of a chain of illogic.
Then again... this kid was, at a stretch, four.
Bibrid chose to be the voice of reason. "When you get sick, does your Momma yell at you? Or does she do whatever she can to help you get better? Even if she makes you drink yucky tea."
"She don't yell at me at all."
"And if you hurt yourself," said Gikka, "I bet she drops everything to make it better. She won't ever hurt you worse."
"...y' win," mumbled the child. "I don't got nothin' t' pay..."
Wraithvine sighed and handed the child a copper coin. "Here. My treat."
"...n'k y'..." The kid gave Gikka the copper.
She then circled around to put it back into Wraithvine's pocket.
"Seems to me that your mother's a good mother. And any good mother would be more worried that you ran out into the rain than to bother about a broken window." True to the point, there was an anxious woman with a basket in one hand and hurrying between vantage to vantage. She had no cloak on, but a farmer's hat shielded her anxious face from the weather. She hadn't even bothered to clean her hands of the flour she'd been working with before the incident.
When she saw Wraithvine, she went from anxiety through horror to outright rage. The basket became a weapon. "GET YOUR HANDS OF MY AINSEL, YOU FAERIE!"
In very fast order, Gikka and Bibrid hauled the child from under Wraithvine's coat, and out towards their mother. Wraithvine, also very wise, assumed the position. Hands on head, on hir knees, and with hir ankles crossed. "I have not harmed nor lain one finger on the person of your child. They are as they came here, my word on the hope of a better tomorrow."
There was wailing and blubbering from the child. A tangle of words and tears that a good mother could certainly interpret.
'Ainsel' made everything clear, from the broken window to running away, to begging to be stolen by the Elf. He's an Elf, Momma. Not a Faerie. But he does got a Dragon, look.
By the time that was all done, the mother had inspected her child for injury or harm, added their shoes, and tucked them inside a weatherproof cloak. And then hugged the stuffing out of them.
"I fair died of fright, thinking I'd never see you again. Oh, my lovely, please don't frighten me like that." She recovered her wits and realised who else was with Wrathvine. Noticed the Wizarding hat. "Er. Oh. Forgive me, m'lord. I... uhm..."
"You were being a good mother," said Wraithvine. "And I'm not a lord nor a sir, nor a ma'am. I am... a travelling Wizard. And if you would have us... We may be able to help with the window."
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