What DOES Become of Snow?
Chibi Tot Fiction. Out of the mouths of infants, you might find a piece of simple wisdom that inspired Splinter's thoughts on the episode, "Things Change."
"Mrrmmmmthhh...."
Don turned from where he lay in front of the fireplace, still lightly enclosed in his blanket, so warm, so very sleepy, he didn't really feel like doing
anything other then listening to the fire crackle and splutter quietly near the faded brick and old newspaper before dropping off again.
He blinked blearily near his much perused copy of Where The Wild Things Are to The Seven Silly Eaters, not really in the mood to look at the
pictures, and pretend he understood the words.
Splinter read to them so often, sometimes he thought he MIGHT be able to discern one word from another...but that might be a little faulty in
and of itself.
Ah, well. He stretched and yawned, abut the desire in his body to do SOMETHING other then just go back to sleep was beginning to clear like
icy water to his mind.
He shook himself, still a little dazed.
Might as well meander around for a bit until something better came along.
Pulling himself free of the blankets' warmth, he set off, awkwardly trying to walk, but mostly keeping his position in a crawl.
-----
A worn Splinter crept in the doorway, sighing as he stamped off the snow still resolutely clinging to his cloak and scarf. Hanging the piece of
black fabric on a nearby hook, he sank into a chair, and reached for Raphael, who was busy dropping a spoon again and again on the
floor to see what types of sound it made.
He sighed, and managed a small smile, as he reached for another spoon, a cooking pot, and attempted to guide a swallow of rice towards
Raph's mouth.
He sighed again as half the contents of Raph's mouth found his chin.
He HAD read that infants were prone to spit food out when first introduced to something other then milk, but this was getting a little irratating.
Splinter glanced at Leo, who was dozing on a nearby chair, applesauce still on his chin (He would have to wipe that off later) and Mikey had
just been put down for a nap, so Donatello must be still...
"Raphael....please. Eat your food-don't play with it!"
Raph simply blinked coyly at him, nose now covered in white grain as he looked down, eyes darting back and forth around the room until the
blue grey orbs found something interesting: His little brother on the floor.
"Buh," he commented, waving a chubby little fist around. "Grxxmmbbbuiiils."
It takes an unusual-or very talented-person to understand something between two large helpings of rice and slightly garbled Japanese, but
Splinter knew the little ones well enough to understand that Raph was trying to gesture to something. He glanced about himself, then, at the
little turtle on the floor, still wriggling and wobbling uncertainly forwards, clenching to the nearby cabinet door like a lifeline.
"Ah! Hallo, little one...."
The rat scooped up Donatello, and gave him a look full of gentle mockery.
"Dozed off, did we?"
Donatello wriggled, but now seemed to be curious about the slowly melting white frost on Splinter's sleeve. He dabbled at it, retracking in
surprise when the warm looking white puff turned out to be....cold.
And wet.
"Koneeeshhiwa, Papa," he added in an undertone, as Splinter dug out yet another spoon, and began to (Attempt) feed Donny.
"Grummbslishx," commented Raph before hiccuping again, white rice still tumbling from his mouth.
Don poked at the white frost, and pressed it curiously to his cheek. He shuddered.
What was that stuff, anyhoo? It wasn't warm and sticky, like rice. Just....cold. And wet.
It sounded vaguely familiar to the turtle, and even as Splinter began to dab at his face with a cloth and the turtle scrunched his face up, he
frowned in concentration.
Wet and White....
Kinda reminded him of something....
White flakes danced in and out of his vision as he clapped his hands merrily.
The now two year old turtle had been "walking" with Splinter-but it had been a long way, and now the turtle was on the rat's shoulders,
looking interestedly at the drifting white clumps of snow falling from a nearby grate.
"Wha's tha....?"
"Snow, little one."
"What's it doin'?"
"Falling."
"Why does it fall?"
"When it gets cold, rain is converted to it."
"Oh. How come?"
"I do not know."
"Why is it cold in Winner?"
Splinter had to hide a small smile. Donatello's questions never ended.
"Every year-at this time-the sun takes a different movement around the earth, and moves a little away from us. It gets colder."
"Why?"
"I do not know."
"How come you don't....?"
Splinter had to laugh softly.
Perhaps that weather picture book he had recently fished from the waters of the drainage junction would satisy Don's curiousity.....
Don flicked to the very last page, sighing with contention.
He could only faintly distinguish a few letters.....A, Q, Z, and P-but he liked the feeling of closing a book, and feeling its contents sink into you.
Or the pictures.
Nevertheless, Don had been able to understand Fall, Winter, Summer, and Spring took place towards the year.
But they had forgotten something pretty important...
He began to drag the book towards the armchair where Splinter was resting.
"Sei-Sei?"
Master Splinter looked up in surprise.
"My son? Did you finish already?"
Don just nodded, attempting to push himself up to Splinter's height. The rat grasped him around the arms, and pulled him up with a grunt.
The turtle himself was light...his shell was a bit bulky, however.
"Did you learn anything new, my son?"
Don just gave a noncommital shrug.
"Kinda. It didn't say wha water melts into, though."
The rat blinked, feeling slightly puzzled as he leafed through the dried pages, crackling as they did so.
"I'm fairly certain it does....snow becomes water, my son."
Donny vigorously shook his head.
"Nuh-uh! It melts into Spring!"
Splinter gave the youth a surprised look, but said nothing. Donny continued proudly.
"Spring ALWAYS comes back," he said importantly, tapping the old book as he did so. "The autha said so. In the end, everything comes back
better after the change, all fresh and stuff."
The rat paused, then gave the turtle a small hug.
"And when winter comes again?" he asked softly.
Don just shook his head.
"It'll come. It always does-er, right?" he gave a worried glance at Splinter, as if not sure he was entirely correct.
The rat flashed him a small smile.
"Indeed, my son. Change.....is good."
Several years later, while Don was working on the new lair's security system, he couldn't help but smile at the memory.
He wiped his brow with a sigh, and carefully closed his toolbox.
At least the new AC system worked fine.
Don cast a look at the heavily aged still in his bookshelf, looking odd between the battered books of molecular theories, therodynamics, and
engineering.
All this work on their new home...he almost didn't want to accept this place as such, still filled with longing for the old home the Mousers
recently trashed.
But Sensei was right.
Change was good. Even Winter came to an End, eventually.
All you could do was wait for a new season.