Hey, I started this fic because I'm a little stuck on my other one, Jack's Secret. It probably won't be updated quite as much as some of you would like, but it will be fairly normal as I overcome the stickiness of writer's block.

Another note: This is my first fully first-person, so please go easy on me!

I do not own Harvest Moon or any of its characters – that belongs to Natsume and any partners it so chooses to have. Rest assured that, as soon as I do own Harvest Moon and/or any of it's characters, I'll be sure to let you know. :)


I wrapped the warm blanket tightly around me. It was on nights like these that I missed Carter the most – there was really nothing between us, but on cold winter nights, he'd lend me his arm for warmth.

I say there was nothing between us, but recalling before the spring of two years ago – before she had arrived – there may have been a slight shimmer of the lust we had shared long before becoming professionals.

Sighing slightly at my hopeless recounts of days-gone-by, I poked at the fire blazing in front of me. Even if I sound bitter, I'm really not; the man and I had agreed mutually that we could no longer share the emotions and wild escapades we had had in our much younger years.

I'm happy for them. I really am. I smiled to myself, bringing the puffy blanket closer to my body. Recalling the first day I had met Pony, I couldn't help but chuckle and close my eyes.

--

Carter and I stood at either side of the dig site, each inspecting our territory. It was about noon, and we had been in the dim lighting for approximately four hours already, and another ten was stretched out in front of us.

That's when she entered – her chestnut hair was pulled up in a high ponytail that rested on top of her head like a crown. She had run in, and skidded to a stop. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she pardoned, blushing slightly. "I hadn't realized there would be people in here." She bowed graciously and neatly.

"It's alright," I muttered. By the look on her face, I guess my British accent threw her off. All I could do was smile at her; she was really cute, in her own way.

"May we help you in any way?" Carter offered as he wiped his dusty hands on a kerchief he had pulled from his pocket.

The girl grinned sheepishly, her violet eyes sparkling. "I'm new here! Arrived with my mother this morning – now I'm just introducing myself to everyone."

"Pleased to meet you," Carter greeted, extending his hand.

"You, too!" she returned brightly, taking his hand in her grasp. That's when I noticed something in his eyes. A flash of youth, a glimmer of memory – this girl had awakened something in him that I had created almost ten years ago.

With a wave of her hand and a warm promise of "See you around!" this beautiful girl skirted out of our den.

"What a bright face," he commented, still standing in the doorway.

"Hm," I uttered, agreeing without a word. "Quite cheerful – it'll be nice to have her around."

I watched as Carter put the kerchief back in his pocket; he clicked his tongue quietly, and I knew he was thinking of something. I smiled to myself – there was that light in his eyes. The light that I knew to mean, "I need some quiet time to gather my thoughts."

"I have to get something from the tent," I lied, smiling at him. "I'll be back in a bit."

He paid me a glance and a slight shift of his head that I took as a nod. I heard him click his tongue another three times as I left the darkness and let the sun hit my skin.

"You dating that guy?"

I spun to see the girl standing outside the opening to the cavern. Her eyes were innocent and curious as she waited for an answer. "Who, Carter?" I asked, though I knew who she meant.

She nodded. "He seems kind of old for you," she said, smiling.

I furrowed my eyebrows at her. "Excuse me," I frowned at her, "I grew up with that man. He's only three years older than me – he's twenty-nine."

The girl's jaw dropped. "Really? Oh, wow – I thought he was forty-something." She stepped closer and held out her hand. "The name's Pony, by the way."

"Pony?" I echoed, trying to make the word fit as a name. She seemed amused by this, as she grinned and scratched the back of her neck.

"My dad's doing, supposedly," she remarked, relieving me of my morbid curiosity. "I guess he was a real big fan of The Outsiders, and he made a deal that my mom could name the first two kids, but he wanted to name the third one either Sodapop or Ponyboy." She grinned widely. "I have two older brothers, so he was really excited to have a son to name. Mom says he was only slightly miffed when I came out a girl, but he was still hell-bent on naming the third child after a character from his favourite book."

"Oh," was all I could say. "My name is Flora – I … don't have nearly as interesting story as you do, though," I quipped, smiling at her as she giggled.

"Well, I'd better get going," she finally stated. "I like you, Flora, so visit anytime." She grinned childishly at me, totally unaware of the impact her words had on me. "I live at that old abandoned ranch, where Mr. Takakura lives."

"You live with Takakura?!" I asked, astounded and a little too loudly. She flinched and giggled nervously.

"N-no, not with him – that guy creeps me out. We live in the itty-bitty house beside him." She showed with her fingers just how 'itty-bitty' the house was.

--

She was eighteen, then – eleven years Carter's junior. They shared a secret morbid curiosity about each other, and as I spent many days visiting her and her mother, she spent twice the amount of nights spent with Carter as he delved away in the mine. She would ask him any questions, not caring about how personal they were, and after he answered, he would return them.

A year after she came here, her mother died from illness. After the funeral, she finally confessed to Carter and myself that she was now an orphan – that her father had died two years prior to arriving in Forget-Me-Not Valley. It was then, for the first time that I had met her, she burst out in tears.

Carter did something amazing. To this day, I still can't believe he had done it – he took a step forward, murmuring her name softly, and as she looked up he swept her into his arms. I couldn't hear the soft words he chimed in her ear, but I knew they were amazing simply because he was a man who cared. I could tell by the way the look in her eyes changed from self-hatred to warm kindness and understanding that it was working. I smiled at the two of them as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, nodding and sobbing softly.

I turned on my heels and left the itty-bitty house to wait for Carter to return home. As I walked, I didn't think of anything. I knew what I was walking away from; I didn't have to think it over and over in my head as to what his and her actions would accumulate to. I was accepting it – I wanted it. To see him happy, and to know she was getting the pick of the crop, that's all I cared about. Pony was more than my friend – she was closer to being a daughter or sister, and I really couldn't have wished for a man more suitable for her.

I wiped my one and only tear away.

I was happy for them.

--

That was then, and this is now. The first of Winter. They were married on the second of Spring, and Pony has a new life inside of her. I looked at my calloused hand, remembering the feeling of the kick. I was shocked, but Pony assured me that it was a happy kick – she could now tell the difference.

I stared into the fire blazing in front of me longingly. I want a child, too, I heard a voice mumble in my head. I sighed and held my freezing hands closer to the flames.

"Don't hurt yourself."

I didn't have time to stop myself; I let out a loud war cry and knocked the feet out from under the stranger. He hit the frozen ground on his stomach with a thud, and I pinned him so he couldn't move.

"Who are you?!" I demanded.

"You're really ferocious, you know," he commented, sounding amused.

"Answer my question!"

"Can I at least turn on my back so we can look at each other while we talk?"

I hesitated for a brief second before forcefully flipping him over and pinning his hands. I looked down into his perfectly proportioned face and his clear blue eyes. He gasped as he looked up at me.

"You're … you're beautiful," he murmured. "You must be the Goddess of Beauty."

I clenched my teeth to keep myself from blushing. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" I demanded.

"I go by Skye," he replied, smiling, "and I've come here to see if there was anything I could lift off your hands."

"Lift off …?" I mumbled, and then came to the realization. "You're that thief!" I let go of him and stood up as if he had burned me.

He slowly and gracefully came to his feet, wiping off the dirt from his clothes and running his fingers through his silver hair. He looked at me in a way that almost made my knees buckle – he had that assertiveness about him that every woman desires in a man. He knew what he wanted and nothing was going to stop him.

As he took a step forward, I picked up a small log from the pile beside me and tossed it at him. He caught it perfectly and inspected it. "What's this for?" he asked, still turning it about in his hands.

"That's all you deserve," I replied. "It's worth a single Gold piece – just like you."

I couldn't help but wish I had taken back those words when I saw irritation and hurt flash in the boy's eyes. "Very well," he said, still as assertive as before. "It's obvious you don't much care for me, so I'll take my leave."

He bowed low and gracefully. When he turned to leave, he glanced at the fire, then at me. "You're alone, aren't you?" he dared to ask.

"What business is that of yours?" I asked, sounding a little too defensive.

He chuckled, taking my reaction as an answer he wanted to hear. "Here," he tossed the log into the fire, "Maybe I can provide you with some warmth."

The fire engulfed the present it was given, and Skye walked away from me. As he disappeared into the darkness, he spun around, his hands nested in his pockets.

"I'll be back," he promised.

"Don't bother," I replied darkly.

He faded away, and all that was left of him was the echo of his laugh, but even that left me. I sat down on the cold, hard ground and pulled the blanket around me again.

Is it just me, or is the fire a lot warmer?


Hope you enjoyed this! I do hope to continue this.

So, how was my Flora POV? CC appreciated!

REVIEW!