"So is it true that you talk to animals?" Emma asked Snow. The family was eating dinner, and Emma had decided to blurt out the first conversation starter that had come to mind. Ever since Snow had killed Cora, dinners had been full of long awkward silences.
"Yes," Snow said, staring down at her food. Emma dropped her fork on her plate in astonishment, she had been joking when she asked.
"Really?" Asked Henry, excitedly.
"Yes, but they haven't been speaking to me recently." Her tone implied that she wanted to change the subject, but Emma seemed unable to let go the fact that her mother could actually talk to animals.
"You mean you talk to them here? In Storybrooke?" Emma asked again, and Snow nodded.
"Can I talk to them?" Henry asked.
"I told you, they don't talk to me anymore," Snow said, little to sharply. "But I guess you could try, if you really wanted to." She added when she saw the dismay on Henry's face.
Emma was tempted to snack her forehead, when she contemplated how weird it was going to be for her to have a son and a mother who both talked to animals.
It was early in the morning and Henry was sitting at the window, listening to birds sing. "Hello?" He called to them, feeling foolish. He was a little surprised when a small blue bird landed on the windowsill. The bird seemed to give him an odd look. "Hi, my name is Henry. What's you's?" The bird just stared at him. "You can't talk, can you?" He told himself not to be disappointed.
He stood up, and turned to go back to bed, when he heard a small voice ask: "Isn't this where Snow White lives?"
Henry wheeled around, mouth open is surprise. "Yes, she's my grandma." He said, sitting back down. "Why don't you talk to her anymore?"
"We only talk to those with pure hearts." The little bird answered in a melodic voice.
"But she is." Henry stated.
"She killed someone," the bird said, bitterly. "Her heart has started to blacken."
Henry looked down at his hands. "But she feels really bad about it."
"That doesn't matter." A few birds behind them began to twitter, and the little blue bird turned her head. "I need to go. Goodbye, Henry."
Henry watched the bird fly away, he wished that he had never tried to speak to her in the first place. He wished that he could help Snow, some how, but he knew that there was nothing he could do. He didn't even know how Cora had died, but he knew that Snow would only kill her if she was trying to protect the rest of the town. She was a good person, and he didn't believe that her heart was black.
It was just impossible.
It's the last day of the contest, please review!