Ermahgerd. Sorry I disappeared for a while. Throughout the entire month of March my life was abducted by school and Grease. But the performances went great and Quebec was amazing and life is good but a little stressful. But I need something to keep me on my toes ;) Anyway, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. It really means a lot to me that you like it!

Sean

Usually Puck comes to see me during the day at my father's house. That's where I spend my time when I'm not with Corr or working with other horses. I plan to make this house my own eventually. It's in major need of repair, though. It hasn't been lived in since his passing. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I forgot about it. When I started living at the stables, I threw myself into my work with the horses and preparing for the Scorpio Races. My childhood home was the last thing on my mind until recently.

When I rediscovered it, I realized what bad shape it was in. The grasses were overgrown and filled with weeds. Some of the shillings on the roof had come loose. The windows were dirty and covered with cobwebs. It doesn't look that bad anymore, however. I've done some work on it, with Puck's help now and then. I can't live in it yet, but it's coming along.

I'm in the middle of repainting the west side of the exterior. I've propped a ladder up against the side. I've decided to paint from the top down. The color I've chosen is an eggshell white. It makes the house look flawless. I wonder if my father would have liked the color. He never painted it when he built it. But Thisby's harsh weather has done damage to the paneling, so the coat of paint makes it look new. I wipe my brush across the wood with a generous amount of paint. A few drops fall from the brush down below me. I don't give them a second thought until a surprised noise comes from the bottom of the ladder. I look down to see Puck scowling, a splash of white paint on her nose. I laugh.

"Nice aim, huh?"

"Perfect," she grunts, wiping the bridge of her nose with her thumb. She looks up at me. "Gone?"

"Nope." I grin. "Still there."

Puck groans and continues to wipe her nose fiercely with her fingers. "How about now?" she asks.

"Gone," I say as I climb down the ladder.

"Need any help?" she asks when I reach the bottom.

"Sure. I think I have another brush somewhere inside. Come on." I gesture for her to follow me.

The interior of my father's house is a classic Thisby design. A simple kitchen with a window overlooking the sea. A living area with one couch and a few spare chairs. A fireplace for when the nights are cold. One bathroom, a few bedrooms, and scattered closets among the upstairs and downstairs. The furniture has become moldy, though. There are cobwebs in every corner. I'm a bit reluctant to look in the closets because of what I could find.

"Here," I say, handing Puck a paintbrush.

She's preoccupied. "Do you remember living here?" she asks.

"Vaguely," I reply. I don't offer any more information and she doesn't press me, although I feel like she's disappointed in my lack of a story. She gives me this look, like she wants me to continue but doesn't want to push me.

"It must have been a cozy house when it was clean," she says as her eyes scan the kitchen. I can't help but smirk from the way she said it. Puck always says things with such honesty. She doesn't worry whether her comments will offend someone or not until after she's said them. It's not particularly charming but with her it works.

"I'm sure it was," I agree. "Hopefully I'll be able to make it just as nice. If not better."

"And then what?" Puck asks.

"Then I live in it."

"But after that?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She sighs deeply and plays with her hair. It's not in a ponytail today. I like it. "What do you think about the Mainland? I mean . . . would you go there?"

"Maybe."

"What would you do?"

"I don't know." And I truthfully don't. There are so many things to do on the Mainland, I wouldn't know where to start.

"Would you want to go to school?" Puck asks.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Possibly."

"What would you want to study?"

"I don't know."

"Would you be a jockey?"

"No."

"Well, what would you do, then?" Puck's eyes are big and alight, though I don't know why she's getting worked up. "What if you didn't have a choice? What if you had to go to the Mainland and you had to do choose what to do with your life? You couldn't go without a plan! You'd be lost in a strange world that you don't know and doesn't know you!"

"Why are you asking me this?" My tone comes out sharper than I had intended. I realize it in the way that Puck's cheeks turn pink and she turns away, clutching her paint brush.

"Never mind," she mumbles. She races out of the door before I have the chance to call her back.

Yes, I know it's short. I just wanted to put something out there for you guys because you've all been so patient with me. More to come soon, I promise! Please review!