This story is an introduction to Twinkle, a character that will be in Eruanna Undomiel's coming story Lark's Eyes. This is just a look on the mischievous prank player. Let me know what you think of her.
Twinkle Troubles
Racetrack rubbed the sleep from his eyes after Kloppman had paraded through the room yelling at everyone. He immediately searched for the cigar he had placed in a tin can on the side table. It wasn't there. He instantly thought of Snipeshooter. The boy, however, was not sitting on the bottom bunk like he normally did when stealing Race's cigars.
Muttering to himself, Racetrack lifted up everything he could find, searching for that one cigar. As he groaned, mentally counting the cost for a new cigar, something caught his eye, or rather, someone. A short girl came out of the bathroom, an innocent smile plastered on her face, but a ridiculous twinkle in her hazel eyes. Her strawberry-blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she walked out, and winked at Race. That's when he knew something was wrong.
"Twinkle. You didn't. If you did, I promise I'm gonna…" Racetrack rushed into the bathroom and immediately stopped in dismay. There, sitting on the counter, soaked with water, was his cigar, ruined forever. He also saw that his comb was gone, but right now his mind was focused on the cigar. He heard a giggle behind him, and saw Twinkle standing there, a mischievous look on her face.
"Gotcha again!" she proclaimed, turning on her heel and running out of the room swiftly, giggling all the while.
"Twinkle!" Race yelled, tailing her. All of the boys in the room got out of the way when they saw the girl followed by a very angry boy. Unfortunately, Twinkle was so caught up in her joke that she didn't watch her footing and tripped over one of the boys' items. Racetrack stared down at her, a frown on his face.
"Say you're sorry," he commanded. Twinkle had gone a little pale, but suddenly she was grinning again.
"I can't apologize for somethin' I ain't sorry for!" The boys in the room laughed, and Race turned red.
"You ruined my cigar!"
Twinkle shrugged. "Those things are bad for you. I probably saved ya from some sickness." Race started toward the girl and she turned to flee again.
"You owe me some money! And what did you do to my comb?!" Racetrack yelled, following her down the stairs. Race knew he probably would always have Twinkle troubles. There was no escape.