A/N: The following prompt takes place three days after Clara and Ian leave for the Mainland (as in Main Island) hospital.

Terra snapped awake, making to go grab her stuffed sheep only to find it wasn't there. A moment of panic washed over her until she realized why her toy wasn't in the confines of her bed: it was with Mummy and Daddy on the Mainland. Shaun was a very good sheep, even if Daddy found the idea to be "preposterous to the point of absurdity", whatever that was supposed to mean, and he was going to watch over Mummy and her new sibling when Daddy had to sleep.

Crawling up to her knees, Terra grabbed for her clock—an old thing that went tick-tick-tick-tick and would still count time if the power went out, Daddy promised. The tip of her tongue stuck out as she furrowed her brow in concentration, dragging her finger along the glass-encased face as she figured out the time. It was four-forty-four in the morning, which was too early to wake up Granddad, but somehow was early enough for her to wake up. She climbed out of bed and turned on the lamp, determined to make the best of it.

It didn't take long for her to get dressed and ready; she'd been practicing with Mummy and Daddy so they didn't have to help her. Being a big sister meant that she was definitely a big girl, and big girls didn't need help putting on their jumpers. Terra took her stuffed animals and placed them all by the window, having them stare out of it—the agreed-upon sign that she went outside—and bounced as she made her way down the stairs towards the garden door. Boots on, as well as jacket and hat, and she quietly slipped out into the dark morning armed with a torch and her own sense of wonder.

Poking around in the garden, Terra didn't find much of anything. There were a couple bugs still skittering and sliding about, while kittiwakes and skuas made some of their last early-morning rounds before beginning their migration for the winter, but nothing that was really neat was happening. She sat down on a rock and wondered why it was she was up—usually whenever she woke up before Granddad, it was for a reason.

[Mither!]

Terra squealed in delight and ran over towards the part of the garden wall that faced the sea. The sheep were nearby, bleating their adoration for Sjeh Mither, which only could have meant that the fae in-question was there. The little girl held onto the torch with her teeth as she climbed the ladder to poke her head over the top of the wall. Sure enough, there was Sjeh Mither, kneeling in the seafoam as she affectionately stroked the creatures' wool coats. She glanced up and saw Terra watching them, chuckling before beckoning her over.

"Come here, hybrid daughter," she requested. Terra eased herself over the wall like Daddy taught her and scaled the other ladder to get down to the beach. She ran up to Sjeh Mither and gave her a hug; there had always been something about the Sjeh Mither that made Terra feel warm and safe, and now was no different. The ocean lapped at her boots as she stepped back to see the fae goddess, knowing that neither of them could help the fact one was very small and the other was very tall.

"Are you leaving for the southern seas, Sjeh Mither?" Terra asked.

"That I am, and I thought I would come by to bid everyone farewell for now," Mither replied gently. She bent down and carefully kissed Terra's hat, letting magic wash over her. "It is a shame I cannot meet the hybrid son before I depart—the Mainland is not often a place for me these days."

"Hybrid son…?" Terra tilted her head to the side, her eyes growing wide. "Does this mean I have a brother?"

"It is," Mither affirmed. She held her hand out, palm towards the sky, and an image appeared for Terra to see. It was Mummy and Daddy in a tiny room together, with Daddy holding a bundle of blankets up against his chest. "You have a responsibility now, to be a good sister and friend; you are the Earth, whilst he is the Water, and no mortal shall rival your friendship."

"Am I the Earth because Mummy said I was named for the Earth?" Terra wondered.

"In a ways—you are the steadfast one, the one whose convictions will stay strong and hearty, even if your opinions change. To be the Earth is to be a rock for others, a safe place for them to go when they are in peril."

"…but what if I were the Water?"

"While Water can wear at the Earth, making it bow in time, it also can protect, defending the safe place as well as any warrior. Remember: there is no shame in bowing when the time is right, and that the Earth still gives Water much that it cannot obtain itself. Even the seal needs a place to rest."

"Okay…?" Terra scrunched her nose and thought about that. Usually Sjeh Mither didn't talk to only her alone, and when they did talk, Mummy or Daddy was around to say sort of what the fae goddess meant. It all sounded very complicated, but the girl knew she was very clever for being three-and-a-half and that it would make sense later. She held her hand perpendicular to her chest, just like how Mummy and Daddy taught her, and bowed. "I hope you have fun on your holiday visiting your cousin. I wish I could holiday with my cousin all winter long too."

"Yemoja and I do not differ from your mortal cousin and you in many ways, that is true, yet it should also be understood that it is the differences that make us who we are." Sjeh Mither patted Terra on the head and gave her a kind smile. "Believing-mortal and hybrid children alike need to learn the workings of the mortal world, so that knowledge can be used to prevent the likes of Yemoja and me from vanishing from people's hearts."

"I won't forget you, ever," Terra insisted. Sjeh Mither chuckled, amused at the small child before her.

"Then go be the Earth, hybrid daughter, and welcome the Water with open arms."

An hour and a half later, Dave Oswald woke up languidly, stretching the sleep from his limbs. He was always so cold when he came to visit his daughter, and that morning was no exception. Glancing at his mobile, he saw there was a text left by Ian ages ago at that point, having gone past him thanks to putting the timed silencer on.

'douglas evan morlo, born 4:44 this morning' Attached was a photo of a rather irritated-looking baby who seemed ready to be on the verge of an ear-piercing wail. He smirked at the notion, considering every newborn he'd ever met was such a creature.

"Terra? You awake yet? I think you might want to see this…" He got out of bed and shuffled over to his granddaughter's bedroom, not still fully awake. When he saw the toys staring out the window, he grumbled and attempted to not tumble down the stairs. Letting a child her age roam so freely down in Blackpool would have been grounds to lock up Ian and Clara both, but here on the quiet little island, it was not much a problem.

After slipping on a coat and shoes, Dave took a torch and went outside into the garden. When he couldn't see Terra in any of the usual places, he climbed two steps up the ladder along the seawall and poked his head over. There the girl was, riding one of the near-wild sheep in the seafoam, while otters scurried about and all sorts of birds were flying. He cleared his throat, catching her attention.

"Granddad! You're awake!" Terra squealed. "I'm hungry!"

"If you come back inside with me, I can show you a photo of the baby while you eat," he offered.

"I want to see my baby brother!" she gasped. Terra nearly fell off the sheep, running over and up the ladder soon as her feet hit the sand. She hopped into Dave's arms, who carried her inside in relief.

"How did you know you had a brother?" he asked. He put his granddaughter down on the kitchen floor and watched as she began to grow inward. "Terra? Did you just guess?"

"I just knew," she said. It wasn't a lie, even if it wasn't the truth. "What's for breakfast?"