A/N: This story is just for fun, and may or may not evolve from it's 'cute and fluffy' status into an actual story. Each chapter is prompted by a randomly generated/chosen word which may or may not have anything to do with the chapter itself. Complaints about this side-tracking me from my current works can be sent to LadyoftheMuses, as she was the one to spawn this plunny after the following conversation:
-pokes 'Geal with a stick-
Sounds like you're channeling young Gen.
-cackles- Gen and I would probably get along frighteningly well. If I had been born in Banora . . . . oh the terror that would have been caused –cackles-
.
*giggles*
A/N: I'm trying out something new, that I've seen a few authors attempt, so . . . meet my muse for this story, Genesis!
Genesis: . . .
A/N: ?
Genesis: You're a Member of Crimson Leather, aren't you?
A/N: No, why would you think that?
Genesis: You handcuffed me to a chair. With red leather handcuffs.
A/N: -awkward silence- . . . those are for your own safety.
Genesis: -odd look- What?
A/N: I don't want you scarred for life by the things my muses come up with . . .
Just a Girl
"The Boy On the Hill"
Banora was a remarkable place in the eyes of any child. What with it's maze of cliffs and caverns, and trees that defied the apparent laws of nature by growing in arcs rather than branching lines. It was also a very good place to raise a child, due to its clear air and the low local monster population.
The town itself was small, a mere four dozen souls, half of those being children. Not all lived in the town itself, one couple and their two teenage children lived half a kilometer to the south. A fourth of that distance to the east others made their home on the bank of the nearby river.
The back door of one of those houses inched open and a small head topped by a bob of earthy brown hair looked outside. Slowly, the small child stepped outside and closed the door behind her, tugging it until she heard a solid click of the latch falling into place. Fisted in her hand she held the knotted corners of a snow white blanket, one corner embossed with the initials SV, an unidentifiable form cradled in the feather-soft fabric.
Moving with a determination that was almost comical on her tiny face, the brunette scrambled up the bank and through the trees, completely ignoring the small drive that snaked towards the central cluster of town. Though there was no path beneath her feet, the hazy line of her route led her unerring closer to her target. Soon enough, she found herself shaded by the pale arcs of wood that were the staple of Banora's economy, the reason the locale had grown so quickly over the last ten years.
The trees were beautiful, their limbs adorned with the scattering of small pale blue blossoms. Some of the trees had already begun to drop petals, and soon, the ovaries would harden and grow as they transformed into fruit. The girl scurried along the path, collecting loose petals and gently tucking them into the folds of her bundle.
She looked up at the sound of an inarticulate shout from somewhere to her left, then yelped as something slammed into her and knocked her to the ground.
"Oof!"
At the human sound, she twisted her neck around and tried to glare at the other child who had landed on top of her. "Ow! Get off me!"
"Oh!" the boy scrambled off, tripping again and falling back to the ground almost immediately. "Ow, damn."
"You swore!" the brunette pointed at him accusingly.
"So?" he shrugged. She blinked, finding herself wondering why the adults always got upset if someone swore around her. The boy had brown hair like her, and his clothes fit him better than the other boys . . . though his trousers were a little too long. A giggle escaped her as she made out petals caught in his tousled hair, smiling, she reached over and plucked one free, holding it in front of his crossed eyes for a moment.
"What's your name?" he asked, refocusing to meet her gaze, which he immediately noted was actually a shade of brown. Everyone he knew had light eyes, blues, greens, and yellows, not . . . that. "I'm Genesis."
"I'm Sonia." Holding out a hand to the boy, she helped him back to his feet, then pouted slightly as she realized he was nearly a head taller than her. "You're tall."
"You're short."
"Meanie."
"Dirt-face."
"Girly-boy!"
"Mud-girl!"
"Mud?" Those strange dark eyes narrowing was the only warning he had before she dove at him, sending them both tumbling further down the hill. Startled, they ducked their heads in to each other and waited until they came to a stop, the smaller brunette rolling off of him with a laugh.
"Where are you going?"
"Let's do that again! It was fun."
Genesis stared after his newest acquaintance in surprise, but not to be outdone, he scrambled after her. After half a dozen purposeful rolls down the hill, both children had discarded their shoes, and taking a momentary break, Sonia had untied and showed off the contents of her knotted blanket. A children's book, a plush doll, and a sandwich that had the older child making a face.
"Pickles? Why'd you put pickles in it?"
"Nothing wrong with pickles! Unless they're sweet . . " Sonia frowned, then took a bite of the PB and Pickle sandwich . "Daddy makes 'em like this. He told me Grampa used to make them all the time."
"Why not bananas? Mom makes them with bananas."
"Ew." She made a face of equal disgust to his previous ones. "Bananas are too mushy. The crispness of pickles balances out the stickiness of peanut butter."
He gave her an incredulous look.
"Genesis!"
"That your Dad?" Sonia lowered her sandwich to watch as he yanked his shoes back onto his feet.
"Yeah . . . see you later?"
"Promise." She nodded sharply, face a mask of sobriety, but it swiftly cracked with a smile. "Bye!"
The boy smiled back, then bolted back up the hill, stumbling twice, but not quite falling. The girl looked away, grinning as she took another bite of her sandwich. "Boys are silly . . ."
Genesis: -staring curiously over LOTD's shoulder- I don't remember that . . .
