Dustfinger smiled happily as he watched the fairies fly between the trees, gathering items for their nests - only minutes before he'd given one a lock of his hair. Dustfinger loved fairies. He walked across the grass to the river, crouching by the water's side he splashed water onto his warm face - the sun had been beating down on him all day. He'd been performing in the market earlier, it was mobbed. Cloud dancer had bought him a drink after.
From beneath the willow, only metres away, a pair of bright green eyes watched the Fire Dancer with fascination. She'd watched him in the market, watched him perform, how he played with fire, how the fireloved him - for as long as she could remember, she'd watched him play with fire. Dustfinger still wore his black and red uniform; her dress was red, but the only black on it was from dirt and soot. She also liked fire, but she couldn't play with it like him. Nervously she crept forward, watching the man with curiosity. She knelt, getting mud on her skint knees, fumbling with the edge of her dress. Maybe she shouldn't do it - there was no need to talk to him, was there? She supposed not, but she couldn't make herself leave.
Dustfinger saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he watched the girl who was watching him. She was too far away to see him staring at her the same way she was staring at him. She couldn't have been any older than seven or eight. She was slight, her tattered dress hung off her shoulders, showing her bones protruding from her pale skin. Her silvery white hair fell about her shoulders, knotted and tangled with leaves and twigs sticking out of it in places. She was a sorry sight, but Dustfinger was afraid of scaring her away.
He lay back on the grass, propped up on one elbow. Picking up a stick, he lit one end on fire before twirling it between his fingers. She stared, wide eyed. How could he do that? Just call on the fire and have it listen? She edged forward a little more, until she knelt right on the edge of the low branches. She knew if he looked now he would see her.
Dustfinger held the stick between his fingers, bringing it close to his face, he blew gently, sending the fire spiralling away in a long ribbon of flames. She gasped in awe. Hesitantly, she stood up and took a few steps. Dustfinger smiled at the child's curiosity. Setting the burning stick on the ground he pulled the fire up into a coloum and shaped it into a rose.
"How did you do that?" a quiet voice asked.
Dustfinger looked up and smiled, "Practise"
"Can you show me again?" Now the girl stood closer, Dustfinger could see the dark bruise peaking out from the top of her dress.
He nodded, "Yeah, sit down"
She sat and he showed her the trick again, "I'm Dustfinger" he said.
"I- I know, I watch you in the market... I'm, I'm... um, I don't really know, I... picked the name Ember"
"Ember, nice" he smiled. "What age are you?"
"Ten, I think, I mean I guessed years ago that I was around six and I counted from there"
"We'll go for ten then. So, eh, what happened here?" he asked carefully, indicating the dark bruise.
Ember stared at the grass, "Got kicked"
"By who?" he frowned.
"Basta" she spat.
"Does he hurt you a lot?" she nodded, "He hurt me too"
Ember stared at him for a second, "Your scars. He hurt you because he liked your girlfriend, that's what everyone says"
He nodded, "Yeah"
Gwin nudged Dustfinger's leg, "Hey whose that?" Ember squeaked excitedly.
"This?" he picked up the horned martin, "This is Gwin"
"Can I touch him?"
"Carefully, yeah" the young girl reached out and stroked Gwin's back slowly. The martin nuzzled his head against her hand, bringing a grin to the girl's face. Dustfinger laughed, "He must like you, he still tries to bite me"
Ember giggled, and Dustfinger couldn't help but feel she hadn't giggled in a long time. "I like him" she grinned.
"Hey Ember, I'm going to go get some food now, do you want to come with me?
"Can I?"
"Of course" he stood up and pulled the child to her feet. "Follow me, we'll get you something to eat, maybe something nice to wear too"
"Thank you" Gwin trailed after them, "What about trousers? Do you think I could get trousers?"
He laughed, "I think we can do that"
"Thank you, I fall a lot and it hurts my knees - I think trousers would be better"
"Okay"
Ember looked up at Dustfinger, reached out and took his hand. He took her home to Roxane and the girls, fed her, made her new clothes out of ones his daughters had grown out of, Roxanne brushed her hair, taking out leaves and twins as she went. Dustfinger showed her tricks and she showed him the little she had figured out - making sparks rain from her finger tips and drawing pictures in the air. He was impressed, considering she was so young.
It got late, the stars came out and the temperature dropped. Ember looked outside, took in the change from day to night and sighed, "I should go"
"Go where?" Dustfinger asked. He'd grown attached to the girl in the few hours since they met - she was like another one of his daughters, someone to be looked after, protected, cared for. Where could she be leaving to go?
"Got a place I stay"
"Where?"
"Hollow tree, ten minutes inside the forest, all my stuff's there"
"Wouldn't you rather stay here?"
Ember shook her head, "It's okay - thank you for everything, but you've done enough. Good night"
"Good night, Ember, see you at the market?"
"Yes" she smiled, then disappeared into the night.