"Heya! Whatcha up to?"

The boy stiffened at the sound of the young girl's voice. He, like most of the other children in the quiet village of Merrill, had been warned to "stay away from the strange Baran folk". The family of three had moved rather abruptly to the outskirts of the village, and all the friendly pub talk and Merrill ale in the world wouldn't loosen their lips about their past. The general consensus amongst the adults was that they were crooks, trying to live their life anew, or stay in hiding a while. Neither really worried the people of Merrill too much, heavens knew they kept to themselves. As long as the Baran family had nothing to do with them, they didn't mind.

So, the children had been duly warned. And yet, Grenn couldn't mistake the pixie-girl idly wandering up, peering interestedly down at what he was doing. It was impossible to mistake any of the family - they were rather short, the parent's faces drawn with some form of lonely, helpless emotion, an emotion the young girl seemed not to have ever picked up on, her eyes shimmering with life and excitement at just being able to breathe. She was even tinier than her parents, a mere slip of a girl hiding under an unruly mane of hair that seemed, to the children's eyes, to be attempting to eat her head more than anything. And on the girl, more obvious still than on her parents, those ears - elfin, more so than even the beastmen of the east.

He looked up, brushing the cowlick of hair out of his eyes and looking up at the girl. He'd been digging for his father, and a new tree to be planted in the village square meant a lot of dirt had to be moved. He had been nearing the end of his work when her voice had rung out, and that shock of hair had peeped over the edge of the hold, wide eyes looking down. Then she blinked and smiled, her face lighting up as she did so. "Wow, you must've been working /hard/...!"

The momentary flash of pride that any young boy will feel for a compliment about work: then that same suspicion. But his eyes, innocent as they were, could pick out nothing more than an admittedly rather eccentric girl smiling down at him, and offering her hand to help him up. With a mental shrug, and the reckoning it was better this way - his father had, after all, brought him up to never make assumptions about people - now that he thought about it, he couldn't help but find it a little unfair to the Barans - he took the hand and ended up practically pulling the girl down into the hole with him. Another blink: she was even lighter than he'd ever have given her credit for.

Dragging himself out of the hole as the girl stepped back and watched him, he slowly stood up before realising with a curse that he'd left his shovel back in the hole, and his aching body wasn't feeling much like screeing back down the rough wall to go fetch it. Evidently the girl picked up on this, stepping forward with a giggle and holding her hands out, the air around her seeming to fill slightly with a faint force, almost starting to taste, to sound, to feel like it was crackling.

So that must be it, the boy reasoned as he watched her. Magic was uncommon, if not unheard of - generally speaking only those adventurers good enough to learn it or lucky enough to come across one of the fabled Mana Eggs had a chance of learning it. That much everyone knew from the tales of Justin and Feena and their use of magic - any little boy from that time had devoured the stories, and they'd all seen the Baran girl wandering around the village, book in one hand, reading raptly and nearly bumping into anything she came near in her concentration.

But, this family... magic seemed to be a part of everything they did, especially in the girl's case. In that of the parents', it was notable for it's absence. They were evidently skilled in magic, their bearing - and their arrival at the village - had heralded that much. And yet they never used it, instead going to pains to mask their abilities and act like normal folk. In contrast, the girl embraced it, much to her parents' chagrin, throwing a spark to light a fire, lightly levitating her book to keep it open at the right space while she did something else, or - like now - lifting a shovel out of a hole on the breeze, her hair flowing around her as she concentrated, beads of sweat apparent on her brow at the effort. Finally, with a triumphant noise, she grabbed the handle, swinging the shovel up and presenting it to him with a winning grin.

"Here ya go!", she grinned, and as he took it she asked the question Grenn had been hoping she wouldn't ask:- "My name's Erellisae. What's yours?"

His instinct was to back away, and with everything he'd been taught by his parents about this family, he very nearly did. But before he could even utter a surprised noise, let alone rebuff her question and walk off, she'd grabbed his arm and was tugging him towards the brook that babbled it's way gently off to one side of the village. She was grinning happily, nattering away about this and that and what she'd read yesterday, and he couldn't help but wonder what harm she could be. Waiting for a suitable break in her conversation, he stuck out his other hand towards her, and smiled. "Hey, I never told you - I'm Grenn. Nice to meetcha."

She smiled, a large happy not-grin that lit her face up even more than any pixie grin had, and Grenn could not help but notice the frisson of nervousness that had been in her gait, or the relief at finally having a friend that was apparent in her eyes. Taking his hand and shaking it vigorously, she then again tugged him towards the brook, plunking herself down on the riverside and dangling her bare feet gently in the cool, clear water with a light giggle, looking up at him. He settled himself slowly down next to her, his joints still feeling the recent exertion, and looked across at the young girl, who looked a mixture of nervous and excited and unsure and animated. On reflection, he'd not seen the girl talking to anyone else before... he frowned at that. Surely no-one deserved that.

She blinked at his sudden frown, shrinking slightly, before picking up a small pebble and balancing it in her hand. Pulling her hand closer to her mouth, she blew slightly on the pebble, and again Glenn could feel that tang of magic in the air, as the pebble flicked itself off her hand, skipping once-twice-three times across the water before the gentle 'plunk' sound announced its dive. She grinned - pixie grin - and looked across at him, one eye winking from under her hair. "C'mon! Your turn!"

Ah, so. Magic against good old muscle, huh? He grinning right back, ignoring her when she stuck her tongue out at his confidence, and scoured the ground, finding a pebble that would skip just right. Taking aim along a long stretch of straight water, he gently skipped the pebble forward, counting under his breath. Plip -- one -- plip -- two -- plip -- three -- plip -- four! -- splunk. Turning to her, where she was still sticking her tongue out at him, he returned the gesture in kind with a chuckle. "I win. So, c'mon, you gotta forfeit."

She blinked, and her eyebrows shot up in her best puppy look. Grenn's resolve to tell the girl to leave wavered and then broke under that expression, and his conscience decided to reassert itself a little. The girl was lonely. He didn't mind the dirty look he'd be sure to get from his father for 'fraternizing' with her, whatever that meant. He pointed to a nearly apple tree - crops were always good in Merrill, but something a little... reluctant to dislodge. "You haveta get me three apples from that tree. I can't reach from the ground, but I'll bet you can with your magic."

A gasp from the girl - evidently she'd been bracing for his original thought - then a broad grin, and an exclamation of joy before she literally jumped to her feet and sped towards the try, a cry of "Okay! I'll show you what I can do!" ringing through the air. He ambled after her, pausing to turn and skip another stone, noting with dismay that skipped only one before disappearing under the eddies. He'd be in trouble... but he didn't much care.

He just wished he could figure out if either of them had lost that contest. And if so, which one of them.