Sandy had been worried about having so many frequent meetings at first, but now he found himself looking forward to them. The group had quickly transitioned from progress reports about their jobs (he had fallen asleep countless times during those), to simply playing games and enjoying each other´s company.
This week, it was Tooth's turn to choose, and she had brought a board game with some marbles and die.
"Aggravation? I have not played zis in years! I call red!"
"Blue!" dibbsed Jack, who had about half a dozen tooth fairy minis cuddled into his hood, hair and hoodie pocket.
Sandy pointed to himself, or, more specifically, his yellow-gold color, and Tooth chose pink. Bunnymund wasn't at the meeting, but if he had been he probably would have chosen green. Actually, Jack likely would have been the one to choose green, just to annoy him.
Tooth and North explained the simple rules of the game, then they all set up their colored marbles and began playing. It was surprisingly fun, for a board game; especially because Jack and North were so competitive and kept condemning each other to restart. The banter increased as they "killed" each other's marbles whenever the dice gave them the chance, even if it meant slower advancement for their own pieces. The game required little strategy, and the Dreamweaver soon found his eyes wandering around, eventually landing on the game's partially filled box. There were still a few extra marble teams inside it: five green marbles, five white and five black.
How appropriate those colors are, he thought. Perhaps if things had turned out differently all those centuries ago, we might have been using all of those marbles.
This thought tied to another, much more habitual thought.
I wonder what Manny is doing right now.
He gazed up through one of the windows, catching sight of the sliver of pale moon.
"Sandy, your turn!"
He turned back to his friends and smiled, rolled the dice, and moved one of his yellow pieces forward four spots. Then he returned to his distraction with a soundless sigh.
He looked back at the mystical moon and tried to imagine the lone inhabitant of his favorite celestial rock. His habit of doing this was more engrained in him than sending dreams was. It happened so often and so colorfully, that after so many centuries, he no longer noticed himself doing it.
I wonder if she misses me as desperately as I long for her.