Happy New Year's to everyone! I thought I'd start out the year with a one shot I had been working on the last few months. So I hope you liked it. And I hope you leave a review of your thoughts on it. Have a Happy New Year!

Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable, butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life. And everyone deserves a little sunshine. ~Jeffrey Glassberg

Her body is small and delicate. Her skin is pale, and smooth like porcelain except for the small freckles across her nose. Her hair is black, unevenly cut, with ribbons of color strewn through her tresses, some weaved into braids and some free-flowing. She has a short stature, like that of a young teenager, but all the grace of the young women she is. She's only a year younger than I. Her small mouth lined in purple, forming the most beautiful smile, without a care in the world as the crowd watches her. Her eyes are unusual, a dark violet. But in the moonlight, they shine bright. They shine like she's happy, as she dances on the stage, but behind the façade, she is sad. 'Why?' I ask myself, as I watch her bend and weave, twirl and float to the music she plays on her flute. Light and soft as a cloud. As the butterflies around her flutter to her side, fluctuate, and disperse in accordance to her music. 'She's so sad, yet her music is so beautiful. How can this be?'

Her twirls cause her multi-colored ballerina skirt to flare out, the material catching the light and glittering, revealing the blue and black swirled stockings underneath, that lead down to the ballet shoes pointing and twirling her. The bodice tight around her, dipping down the back as to not touch her only other abnormality. Her wings. There were four protruding from her back. Two on each side, and shaped like the butterflies' that danced around her. Her wings flutter and close, the audience watches her and the butterflies movement. Her gossamer wings are delicate, and are outlined in black. Splashes of color, of blues and purples and pinks mark the surface of tiny feathers.

A butterfly flies by me and lands on my shoulder. I smile to myself and look towards the ballerina dancer, Mariposa. Although her real name is Martha. She glanced over at me, and looked quickly away, continuing to dance, and play her flute. When she dances, it's almost impossible to see her slight limp. The butterflies around her, fluttered to the audience, dancing and landing on the small children, making them laugh and smile in delight. She was only brought out on such occasions when there was a large amount of children in the audience. I lowered my eyes, and the butterfly on my shoulder left, flying back to the flute player. 'How can she ignore me and notice me at the same time?' I asked myself, watching her wings. The audience probably thought they were fake. Clever machinery attached to her back and shoulder blades. But we at Noah's Ark know better.

I still remember the day Joker and them found her. Dagger said he and Joker found her huddled under a worn blanket fiddled with holes, gnawing on a small piece of moldy bread, sitting next to a trash bin and an old flute. When she stood up to move away from them, she walked with a limp, and the blanket bunched around her shoulders fell away, revealing both black and blue spots along her arms and the pair of wings, ripped and torn on the edges. One of the bottom pairs missing. They offered her refuge, food and shelter. And she accepted, dancing her way into the circus life.

I can even remember meeting her for the first time.

"Martha, this lot 'ere is the first tier members. 'veryone! This 'ere is Martha! She's our new ballerina!" Joker announced to the gathering first tier members. I stayed near the back of the group, not wanting to scare her. Or perhaps I was afraid she would call me a freak like everyone else. "Martha, tell 'em yer specialty." he said, patting her on her shoulder. It didn't seem like something Joker would do. He usually went for the back. I crept a little closer trying to catch a glimpse of the new girl. She wore no shoes, and her dress was well worn, and threadbare. It practically hung off her small frame. Around her shoulders was a moth eaten blanket, which she clutched to herself out of nervousness.

Her hair was black and dirt filled, and body was sickly thin. Her eyes. They were hollow, empty. When I looked at them, I saw sadness, and loneliness. They were like my eyes before Joker and the rest rescued me. "U-umm…I-I play the fl-flute," she said, her eyes darting from one persons' to the next. "An-and I-I can…umm…make butterflies dance." she said quietly, looking down at her bare feet. "Make 'em dance? How stupid. If ye can make 'em dance, then prove it." Peter said, crossing his small arms across his childlike body. "Uh-umm." she stuttered, clutching the blanket closer if possible to her body.

"Now now Peter ol' boy, me and Dagger already seen 'er trick. As real as I am standin' 'ere. A reg'lar ol' pied piper she is." Joker said. I looked at her, and caught her eye, she stared back at me, as Joker carried on. "Martha, meet the group. These two 'ere are Peter an' Wendy, the trapeze artists, greatest high flyers this side of England they are. An' the big one there's Jumbo, our fire eater. Our princess Doll, the tightrope walker, an' Beast, the animal tamer. An' that back there is Snake. Come 'ere Snake. Let the girl 'ave a look at ya."

I stepped forward a few steps, and Emily hissed at her. She jerked back, but Emily made no move towards her. "It's nice to meet you, don't mind this one's behavior, says Emily" I translated. "Strange." she whispered, glancing briefly at Emily wrapped around my shoulders, before looking back at me. Strange. This was the first word she ever said to me. Ever said about me.

Her music gradually slowed, as the butterflies flew back to her, setting themselves upon her shoulders, and head, and delicate wings. Together, they bowed to the audience, who in delight applauded her dance. She stood and waved, while Joker walked to her side, setting his skeleton hand on the small of her back, just below her wings, as they opened and closed. I started to get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, when I saw Joker touch her. 'What is this feeling?' I thought, clutching my hand to my stomach.

"Ladies and Gentleman! 'ow 'bout another round for our ballerina, Mariposa!" shouted Joker over the applauding crowd. She bowed again, and left in a flourish of butterfly wings, and dancing colors. She walked by me, looking at the snakes wrapped around my body for my performance, her butterflies floating around her, and ahead of her, like a cloud. Keeping their distance from me. She looked away from the snakes, and down, probably looking at my costume. A simple cloth wrapped around my hips and thighs, tied on one side of my hips. She quickly looked away, a light blush rising to her cheeks as she exited the tent. 'Why was her face red? Why did she leave in such a hurry?' I thought to myself, as I walked out to the middle of the stage. 'She probably doesn't want to be seen with a freak like me.' I thought, starting to began my dance. The snakes slithering across my body. Unknowing of the pair of purple eyes watching me from a slit in the canvas of the tent.

~*skip*~

"She watches you, you know." Emily hisses, as she wraps herself around my arm. I'd already changed, and come back to watch the rest of the show, leaving after a few performances. "No she doesn't." I disagreed. 'How could she ever? When she runs away after her performance.'

"She's been watching you ever since you introduced yourself three months ago." added Bronte, winding himself around my waist. "I bet she likes you." Oscar said, hissing in my ear. "She couldn't. Not a freak like me." I whispered, looking down at the ground as I walked. "You love her. Why not admit it?" Emily asked, wrapping herself around my shoulders now. "It's because I love her that I wont admit it." I said, looking up from the ground as I approached the animal cages. "She could never love me back anyway." I whispered, mostly to myself.

I rounded a corner, and froze, hidden in the shadows. There she stood, in front of the cages, playing her flute, leading the butterflies inside. As the last one entered the butterfly cage, she stopped playing, and placed inside a large bouquet of flowers. She shut the door, and watched them flutter inside, before putting a blanket over the top of the cage. She turned and gasps when she sees me standing there.

"S-Snake. I-I didn't see you s-standing there." she stutters, hands clasped behind her back, eyes darting towards the ground. "It's feeding time, says Oscar." I say for the snake wrapped around my throat. "Don't your butterflies get cold? There rather lovely. Says Emily."

"N-no. I-it's rather w-warm out, and I-I have a w-wool blanket over th-their cage. They'll be f-fine." she says, looking back at the cage. "I-I'll see you t-tomorrow." she says, running past me, without a glance back in my direction. "Her wings. What do you suppose happened to the bottom one?" asks Wilde. "I don't know." I respond, looking back towards the butterfly cage. Without thinking, I lift up the blanket, and look inside at the butterflies gathered on the bundle of flowers. Bluebells, Buttercups, Forget-me-nots, Winter Mint. I unlocked the small door, and reached a hand in, picking up a Forget-me-not. Holding it up to the moon light, I noticed a small butterfly clinging to it. I locked the small door, and let the blanket slip over the cage once again, walking away with the small butterfly clutching the petals of the flower.

~*skip*~

For the next few days, the butterfly roamed around my tent, and I began to notice during my performance, that Martha would watch me from behind the canvas of the tent, even staying near the exit inside. During one show, Emily started to talk to me during the show. "You should tell her." she hissed, slithering up my arm. "No, we're too different. I'm too different." I whispered to her. "You're both different. You're half snake, she's half butterfly." she hissed, wrapping herself around my neck once and traveling down my other arm. "Her wings. She's different from me. She…she's like a pixie. A fairy. And I'm a monster, a freak. I don't deserve to be happy." I mumbled.

"Enough!"she hissed, snapping at me, fangs bared, inches away from my face. "Don't belittle yourself! You deserve happiness, no matter what! Don't be afraid, tell her how you feel." she hissed. With one final snap at me, she slithered onto the ground, and went off towards the tent doors. A few people in the audience shrieked. The performers at the space between where the audience sat, at the doorway, made room for the slithering snake to leave. The gossamer winged girl stood where she was, and watched with a curious look, at the snake, as she slithered off.

"Snake! Snake, wot 'appened?" Joker asked, running up beside me. "Snake got in trouble with Emily, says Donne." I translated, "Stop snitching Donne, says Oscar."

"Okay, well, umm, go an' reconcile with 'er then. I'll try an' calm down the crowd." he said, putting on a smile for the crowd, still whispering about themselves, and looking around their feet. "'s alright folks! Small incident with our snake 'andler. Wont 'appen again. On wiv the show!" he announced, ushering in the next act, leaving me to exit the stage in search of Emily.

'Emily. Why'd you make such a scene? Now Joker's upset I bet. Emily, where are you?' I asked myself, looking through my tent, and on the ground outside of it. "Maybe she went to the animal cages. She likes to eat when she's upset." hissed Oscar, slithering on the ground in front of me towards the animal cages. "Yeah, she might be there." I agreed, following Oscar. "I still don't understand why she was so mad." I said, rounding a corner, nearing the animal cages. "Maybe you don't understand women?" asked Bronte, coiling himself around my waist. "Well…no, but I don't se-" I responded, before stopping short, when I saw Martha by her butterfly cage. As well as two members if the second tier.

"The beau'iful dancer Mariposa. 'The bu'erfly pied piper'. Why don't you come back to our tent, and dance for us?" one of them, a tall man with short black hair, said, smirking, placing a hand on her shoulder. I don't know why, but a sort of uncomfortable feeling started in my stomach, when I saw him touch her. "Please go away." she said quietly, shrugging his hand off. He slid it down her arm to her bicep, and seemed to tighten his hand by the expression on her face.

"Why don't you just come with us? We'll teach ya something nice." the other one, a shorter blond, said, gripping her hand. "P-please let go!" she said, trying to tug her hand free. "Why? Are you waiting for your boyfriend? That freak?" the brunette said, using his other hand to wrap around her waist. "N-no." she said, her face blushing slightly. "It's obvious that ya like him. 'veryone knows. 'cept the freak 'imself." the blond said. "Don't call him that! If he's a freak then I'm a monster." she said, just above a whisper.

A sudden twinge in my chest, my heart felt like it was going to burst. "Don't touch her! Says Bronte." I translated for the hissing snake. Stepping slightly away from the security of the shadows. "S-Snake." she stuttered, stopping any struggles she was making, in an attempt to shake off their hands. "Well well, if it ain't the freak 'imself." the blond, "Come to rescue the bu'erfly?" the brunette asked, wrapping an arm around her waist, sneaking fingers reaching under her skirt. She looked at me, tears rimming her black lined eyes, asking for help. Why did my heart hurt so much? Why did my chest ache when I saw her tears spill over, running across the wisps of black and purple make-up on her cheeks.

"Joker will be mad…to hear what your doing to Martha. Says Oscar." I said, the snake around my waist, slithering around leg, and onto the ground. "Oh really? And who's going to tell? You? Or your snakes?" the blond asked, his free hand sliding down her back, stopping at what seemed to be the base of her one real bottom wing. "Get outta 'ere freak." the blond said, tightening his hand around the wing. Martha began to twitch and writhe, and voice her discomfort. "Stop stop! It hurts, let go!"

"Ya know. Rippin' wings off bu'erflies used to be my favorite past time as a kid." the brunette said, gripping her wing between his greasy fingers, crumpling it. Martha screamed in pain, and my heart broke seeing her like this. "I said don't touch her!" I yelled, snarling, watching me snakes wrap around their bodies, and then around their necks. They screamed in panic, and let go of her. Martha fell to the ground kneeling, arms wrapped around herself, shivering. Oscar and Bronte wrapped themselves tighter around them, and threatened them with their fangs against their necks. From there, they began to panic more, and upon commanding Oscar and Bronte to let them go, they ran, stumbling and terrified, away from the animal cages.

Oscar and Wilde slithered back to me, winding up my legs, and around my bare stomach. "Martha? Are you all right? Asks Wilde." I said, stepping a few feet closer to her. She looked up at me, her tear stained face, shining eyes. Kneeling on the ground like an injured fairy. Beautiful. I blushed and looked away, suddenly self conscious of the fact that I was only wearing a single piece of cloth. "N-no. m-my wing is…is…" she said, beginning to tear up again, looking behind her at her crumpled wing. Biting my bottom lip, I stepped towards her again, and bent down, offering her my hand to take. "C-come back to our tent. S-snake will try to fix your wing. Says Wilde." I said, my hand slightly trembling. When I felt her hand slip into mine, my eyes widened in surprise as I looked at and saw her smiling a sad smile. "Thank you." she whispered.

It was the first time she had ever spoken to me without stuttering.

~*skip*~

"Th-thank you. Y-you know. F-for trying to fix my w-wing." she stuttered, sitting cross legged on my cot, her back towards me. "I-I-it's no problem. Says Oscar." I say, kneeling behind her, on the cot. Oscar slithering off my shoulders, and around her waist. She jumps once when his scales touch her thigh, but gradually relaxes as he slithers up her arm. "D-don't be afraid, I w-wont hurt you. Says Oscar." I said, glancing briefly at Oscar gliding across her shoulders, seeing a shiver run across her. Another uncomfortable feeling in my stomach, seeing Oscar touch her skin so easily. Jealousy? Maybe.

"A-alright. I t-trust you." she said, looking over her shoulder at me, blushing a bit before turning away in the light of the single candle glowing on the chest next to the head of the cot. Beside the candle sat a book, and inside the chest were more. "Mmhmm." I hummed, gently taking the crumpled wing between my fingers, and smoothing it out slowly. Over and over, almost methodically, smoothing out the wing. After a few minutes, I realized that Martha had been flinching every time I had pulled on her wing to smooth it out. "I'm sorry if I'm hurting you…says Donne. Please bear with it for a little while longer." I said, stretching her bottom wing out. "N-no. It's okay. It d-doesn't hurt. I-I just didn't anticipate your hands to be so c-cold." she said, hanging her head a bit. Releasing her wing, I looked at my hands. Had they been cold? I'd never noticed it before. "I'm sorry. Says Donne." I mumbled, cupping my hands and blowing into them to warm them up.

"N-no! It's okay. I l-like the cold. I-I was born in it." she said, turning her body around slightly so that most of her was facing me. "I-I'm sorry if I of-offended you." she said, taking my hands between hers. Looking down at my hands and then up at her face, I felt a warmth spread through my fingers and down my arms. 'What is this?' I thought, as she blushed, looking down at our hands before quickly releasing them, turning back around on the cot. 'I feel warm.' I thought, looking at my hands before placing them on Martha's wing again.

"S-snake?" she said, inclining her head towards me. "Yes? Asks Wilde" I said, as Wilde unwound himself from my waist, and slid onto hers. "Your s-skin. Why is it l-like that?" she asked, stroking the scales on Oscar's back. I stopped a moment. Stunned. Why had she asked a question like that? If I answered her, will she tell me how she got her wings? How she lost the bottom one?

Why she watches my performance in secret.

"I-I was born l-like this. S-says Dan." I stuttered, biting my tongue. "O-oh. I'm like that t-too. That's why my mother abandoned me." she said, speaking the last sentence clearly and softly. Barely above a whisper. "Why?" I asked, quickly adding "says Donne". 'Who wouldn't want her?' I thought, momentarily stopping my hands. "The adults in my t-town, said my m-mother as a prostitute. But the kids s-said she threw me away because of my d-deformation." she said, gripping her arms around herself, shoulders shaking silently. She's crying again? I've made her upset. A deformation? A beautiful development of her body. "How did you lose your wing? Says Oscar." I said, as Oscar slithered down her bare back and onto my leg. Should I stop? I don't want to make her more upset.

"When I was a kid, some of the older boys in my town held me down and tore off my wing. They used their hands at first, but then they used a knife. It was terrible. The pain. They left soon after, leaving me on the ground in the middle of an alley. People walked by, but no one stopped to h-help me. Th-the bleeding stopped, but th-the wing n-never grew back, an-and I wasn't able to reattach it. When I joined the circus, and D-Doc gave me the replacement, I was happy. It-it made me f-feel whole a-again." she said, stuttering towards the end. Carefully I wrapped my arms around her waist, and pulled her towards me, hugging her close. Oscar and Wilde, and Bronte wrapping themselves around us. Locking her into my cold embrace. A prisoner within my arms. Butterfly wings pressed tight between my chest and her back. Black hair tickling my face as I rested my chin on her shoulder. Quick breaths and a thudding heart. A warm body and a red face. She is the prey, and I am her hunter. "S-snake." she whispered, reaching a hand up to touch my own, wrapped around her. "When people…see your scales. What are they like?" she asked, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

I closed my eyes, reliving the abandonment, the cage, and the awful stares and cruel jokes directed at me. "Their cruel. Says Keats." was all I said. Releasing her from my hold, turning away from her. My legs hanging off the cot, staring down at the ground between my feet as the snakes around us slithered about. Crawling up metal cages, and slithering around Martha. 'Why is she not afraid?' I thought, as I looked up to see her pull her legs up to her chest, and wrap her arms around them, letting Wilde and Keats slither across her body. "I don't understand…why they are what they are." she whispered to Wilde as he moved along her knees.

I knew what she meant, and I remembered what it was like when everyone at the circus saw her wings for the first time.

"Why do you wear that there blanket all the damn time?" a woman, a second tier member asked her, after the third day of her arrival here. The hour after breakfast had ended. Before, she had been sitting in the stands in the tent, watching the others practice. I'd only been there only to see her. Curiosity? Instinct? Who knows. "Come on. What are ya 'iding under there?" she asked, pulling on a corner of the blanket. Martha seemed to become scared, and held the blanket closer around her, stepping back from the girl. "P-please leave it a-alone." she said. By then, most of the people in the tent had become interested in what was happening, mostly out of curiosity at what she was hiding under her blanket, and two more cast members joined the fray, pulling a each end of the blanket, while Martha held onto it tightly. But, since the blanket was so old and threadbare, it tore into pieces around her, and fell away, revealing two large butterfly wings wrapped around her. They unfurled away from her body and began to open and close on her back. A slight fluttering. Nervousness? Fear? What happened next did not help.

A large commotion started. Staring and whispers around her. The two who had torn the blanket had stepped away from her quickly, holding their hands to their mouths. As if it was some kind of disease. Large black wings, spots of blue and purple and pink, sprouted from her shoulder blades. My first impression of her, was that she was a fairy. But maybe that's just my opinion. "She's a freak!" the woman cried, stepping away from her too. A large ring of onlookers had formed around the girl, and by then, even I could tell from where I was far away by the entrance, that she was beginning to panic. "'ey Snake, wot's going on o'er there?" a voice beside me said, a voice I recognized as Joker. "The new girl has wings. Says Wordsworth." I translated, pointing to the crowd of people surrounding a panicking Martha. "Oh drat. Come with me Snake. Let's sort out this 'ere mess." Joker said, walking quickly towards the crowd. I followed him at a slower pace, still edgy around the large crowd myself.

"Martha! There ye are. Been looking for ye 'verywhere. I see ye've decided to show 'veryone yer wings!" Joker exclaimed above the noise of the group. They made way for Joker and I as we entered into the circle. Martha stood in the middle, shaking, clutching the torn fabric of the blanket. "Martha, why don't ye go along wiv Snake to Dolls tent. Ye are our new ballerina, so ye'll need a costume. Snake'll hopefully fill ye in on the details along the way." Joker said, setting a hand on her shoulder and pushing her closer to me, before she started walking by herself a little ways behind me as we set off for Dolls tent. Behind me I heard Joker mutter to group, "Good welcomses all around eh? 'ave ye lot no manners?"

Walking outside, with Martha behind me, we headed to Doll's tent. It was a few minutes afterwards that Martha spoke. "S-snake? What do you t-think of my w-wings?" she whispered. I didn't answer, for fear of what I might say. What my actual thoughts were when I saw her wings for the first time.

"That first day…when everyone saw your wings. Says Wordsworth." I said, peeking at her from the corner of my eye. She had relaxed and let her legs drop to the floor, mindful of the slithering snakes beneath her. A delicate hand stretched out to touch the cover of the book. "You asked me a question…what I thought of your wings. Says Wordsworth." I told her, turning to face her fully as she picked the book up, smiling to herself. "You never did answer my question. It was three months ago, right?" she whispered against the book, looking at me under her bangs. I blushed and looked away to my hands knotted around each other. "I-I…I…when I f-first saw th-them. Your w-wings…I thought th-that you l-looked like a f-f-fairy. Says Wordsworth." I stuttered, biting my tongue again, and feeling my face burn up as I turned away from her. What would she say? Would she think I was weird? Would she laugh at me?

A light hand touched my bare shoulder, and turned my face to shyly see her. Dew drops were rimming her eyes again, and I thought I had done something wrong, but before I could apologize for whatever it was, she smiled at me. "That's the nicest thing anyone ever told me." she whispered, trailing her hand down my arm and gripping my hand between hers before bringing them up to her lips. "When I first saw you…and I saw your scales…I thought it was strange. To find someone like me." she whispered against my hand, tracing the scales on my arm. It was quiet after she spoke. She continued to trace my scales, going up my arm before she gingerly touched my collarbone. When I slight shiver went through me, I decided to ask her why. "W-w-why do you watch m-me? D-during my p-performance. W-why do you hide a-and w-watch? Says Keats" I asked, my face burning red, and my stuttering out of control. Was it because I was embarrassed to ask her that? Or was it because she touched me? Traced my scales. Not shy away from me, repulsed? Yes. The feeling was mutual. I wanted to touch her. Not just her feather light wings. But her hands, and arms, and legs, and body. She's so kind to me. She's so sweet, and understands me. I love her.

She stopped touching me, and scooted away from me. Instantly I thought I had upset her again. But when I looked at her face in the dimming candle light, I saw it was a deep red. "H-h-how did you know I-I watched y-you?" she asked, fiddling with her fingers, looking down at the ground. A snake made its' way up her leg and coiled in her lap, its' yellow eyes staring at me as it hissed softly. "I told you didn't I? I told you she watches you." Emily said smugly. "Yes, I suppose you did Emily. Says Oscar." I responded. "What?" Martha asked, looking at me quizzically, the blush on her face fading a bit. "Oh, um, Emily, the snake there in your lap, told me. Says Wordsworth." I said, letting Emily slither onto my arm and around my neck. "Where were you? Snake looked everywhere for you. Says Oscar." I said, while she slithered into my open hand, going onto the floor, and slithering back to the opening of the tent. "I was in Dagger's room. I'm going back to see him now since the shows' almost over." Emily said, a last flicker of her tail before she left.

"Where is she going?" Martha asked, standing up from the cot to follow her out. "Back to Dagger's tent. She has a crush on him. Says Wordsworth." I said, remaining on the cot, hoping that she would not leave. She poked her head out the opening, and after seeing Emily had gone and disappeared, closed the opening and stepped back a few small steps. She started to roam around the small tent, looking into the multitude of cages inside. "You have so many snakes, you must never get lonely." she said, peering into each one, a small smile on her face. "Sometimes. But I am half-human. So I crave the companionship of another. Says Donne." I said looking back down at my feet, until I felt a pair of hands cup my cheeks, and lightly force my face to look up. "If you'll let me, I'll me your companion, Snake." she said, kneeling on the ground before me, looking up at me as I looked don at her. Her hands slid from my face before they touched my hands once again, grasping them together with hers. 'So warm.' I thought, brining them up, along with my own, to my face. Letting go of one, and turning her hand palm side up, planting a kiss on her open palm. 'So warm.' I thought again, sliding my lips down to her upturned wrist, and planting another kiss there. 'So sweet.' I thought, kissing the inside of her elbow. She jerked a little, but when I looked up at her, her face was a little pink, and she didn't push me away like thought she might.

'Sensitive.' I concluded, kissing her shoulder, and then her neck. She made a small sound. Shock? I kissed her neck again higher up near her ear. She made it again. An altogether pleasant sound. What was I doing? How did I know what to do? Instinct? My body taking over? It seemed like it. I didn't want to stop. Had I done this before? Unlikely. Martha was the only person I had these types of feelings for. "Is it alright? To do this? Says Keats." I whispered in her ear, holding her close to me, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her into my lap. This was weird, but I didn't want to stop. And I hoped she didn't want to either. "Do you know why I watch you Snake? Because I like your shows. The way you move. I love your snakes. I love their names." she murmured against my neck. "You're so nice. And sweet. And gentle. Snake?" she said, moving away from me, kneeling beside me on the cot. "Yes? Says Donne." I said, holding her hand. Kneeling before her. "I l-love you, Snake. Do you love me?" she said, looking deeply into my eyes. Purest shining purple, shimmering in the dying candle light. "Yes. I love you…Martha." I said, cupping her cheek, bringing her closer to me as the candle died out.

Martha closed her eyes, lips slightly parted, light breathing raising her chest up and down. I wondered if her heart was beating as hard as mine was. My closed, and I felt my lips lightly brush hers in a butterfly kiss. Light as feathers. A spark of electricity shocking me. Moving my hand to the back of her head, twisting my fingers into knots in her hair pressing her closer to me. Did she feel the spark? I let go of her lips, barely brushing them. Before I spoke, she said, "A spark. Did you feel it?" I nodded against her lips, whispering yes, before she slid her hands up my bare chest to cup my face, bringing me ever closer to her. This feeling, like I'm going to burst. Should we slow down? I should ask her…but I didn't seem to want to stop. In the end, I didn't have to make a choice. Martha let go of my head after a few minutes, and covered my hand that was cupping her face, breaking away and breathing just as heavily as I was.

"Snake…I'm sorry, but we should slow down. Right? Not move too quickly and all that." she said breathlessly. I agreed, if only because I did agree with her, and the incident earlier with the two second tier members. To overload her with this, it wouldn't be good. For her, I would wait forever. Soon after, in the darkened tent, we laid down together under the sheets, my arms wrapped around her waist and back, holding her close as she laid her head against my chest. I felt sure she could hear my beating heart. As we drifted off to sleep, I felt the small butterfly I had picked up with the Forget-Me-Not, land on my cheek, lightly fanning my face with its' small wings. And a snake slither onto the cot above the sheets, curling up on Martha's side.

~*skip*~

In the early morning of the new day, when the first golden rays of sunlight peek over the tents and wake us from our restful slumber. I wake up to the sight of black hair entwined with colorful ribbons. Porcelain skin flecked with small brown freckles. And when they open and look up at me, bright shining violet eyes. A small mouth spread into a gentle smile, and sweet peck on my lips as way of greeting for the new day. And there's a feeling deep in my stomach, a warm comfortable feeling, and that of butterflies floating around. Reaching over her to the small chest, and opening the book, taking out the pressed Forget-Me-Not between the pages, and tucking it into her hair, before she smiles at me again, kisses me again, and hugs me close again, seemingly drifting off to sleep in my arms. A happy feeling in my heart, and a loving smile on my face as I hold her close once again. "I love you Snake." she whispers to me. "I love you too Martha." I say back, kissing the top of her head. Falling asleep once again with her in my arms.

~*skip*~

Epilogue: five minutes later

"Snaaaaaakkkkee! Snaaakkee! Why is your snake in me bed?!" yelled Dagger, rushing into the darkened tent with the stripped snake, named Emily, in hand, filling the tent with light. In the morning light, Dagger threw the tent open wide to shed light inside the room, knowing he would see cages of snakes in every corner, and a sleeping Snake in a cot. But unknowingly seeing a sleeping Mariposa in bed beside him wrapped in his arms. Dagger forgot about the snake, who had crept into his bed late last night, and had wound herself around his arm, frightening him out of mind and spirit, letting her slip through his fingers onto the floor, and slithering towards the cot where the two half-humans slept together. The first thing heard that morning, besides the cries and shouts of Dagger's night with Emily, were the sounds of him yelling at the top of his lungs. "Snake an' Martha did the deed! They've slept together they 'ave! Seen it wiv me own eyes I did!" he shouted as he ran around the tents. Effectively alerting Noah's Arc to the new budding relationship.