The cool breeze of the chilling winter winds stung the little boy age of 6, his tiny hands covered by warmly knitted mittens and tattered clothing. He kept looking around at the woods all the maple and oak trees of the forest seeming to surrounded him and his mother. The pale faced boy with Rich brown eyes peered back, to see the light of the huts in his village were completely gone. Gulping the boy suddenly felt more hesitant but the gentle squeeze from his mother's hand made him look up. The rounded faced boy peered up and saw the young woman smiled at him softly coaxing him further.
"Not much further Jackson, it's okay."
The little boy blinked worriedly in the direction of the woods, but his mom's thin lipped smile and faint freckles lured him forward.
The mother and son team continued as the playful cool wind danced and rattled the trees like instruments of music, causing the possible light ech of laughter to dive among the trees and snow. The child blinked again, remembering the stories of fairies dancing through the oak woods and helping the cold breeze to make its way all across the world. Tumbling slightly, Jackson nearly fell over as him and his mom finally came to a little lake. He had begged his mother to come, with the stories she had explained to him and how this lake seemed to her when she got near. The boy gazed forward, his pupils flexing in confusion as he felt his breath freeze in his throat, the thin criss crossed ice was just as he imagined it to be, but there was no gaping hole, no scratches or reminders that there was ever a tragedy here. It was like an innocent white canvas, with blood long faded off it's surface. All the boy could feel was the cold playfully nipping at his ears and the hard thumps of his little heart.
With a sharp glance up, Jackson caught sight of his mother's expression of sadness and longing, her rich deep brown eyes beginning to get lost in the past. The boy blinked and looked out at the legendary lake from the stories, before quietly whispering, "is this where uncle Jack fell in?"
His mother softly smiled and pulled him on her lap , cuddling him tight so the child would giggle, "yes sweetheart, this is it." Grown pippa sighed.
" its so small" Jackson noted his eyes exploring the surface, "is there a grave somewhere?"
Pippa let out a gentle breath as the cold tickled the back of her throat, the playful wind ruffling her waist long hair, "no.. But I always come back to say hello to him, I feel like I owe him for everything he's done for me."
The child blinked up at his mother giving another look at the scarred swirls of ice, "what did he do?"
Pippa kissed her boy's head and cradled him on her lap, "he was always there for me, our parents weren't really the best so he took good care of me. He was the best big brother in the world."
Little Jackson thought for a moment before he looked up at the women holding him gently a confused look on his face. "Soo… do you think he's here or in heaven like dad says?"
Pippa Shook her head, "I don't really know, but it's odd." The women bit her lip and gazed into the sky following snowflakes blown by the cold hands of the mischievous wind. " it feels like he's never really left for me. "
The boy blinked before turning to the ice again seeing the reflections of the trees in its circular pool, "what do you mean exactly?"
Pippa smiled tracing her hand through her son's rich brown hair, small streaks of his father's blond starting to wave through like an ocean in his locks. The boy gazed up at her looking exactly the same as her, but those rich brown eyes so innocent and new to the world.
"I'm not really sure what I mean sweetie."
Jackson peered back at the ice, and noticed the things his mother had left hanging from the tree, likely as a reminder for his young uncle. In the tree were little blue ribbons and a snowflake made from sticks, each gently blowing in the breeze like a Christmas tree.
Blinking the child's mother sighed and started to get up, "here lets get some wood chopped for your dad, he must be quite tired."
Jackson nodded and got up, dusting himself off from the snow and kept glancing out at the small lake, his eyes lost in the stories he had been told. However as he turned around he caught sight of his mother, and he stopped dead, as he noticed the faint tears sliding down her cheeks. Seeing this the boy immediately ran to his mom's arms and was accepted quickly as both silently hugged, child knowing the women's pain as her stories she hadn't told him quite yet started to tear at her visablly. Eventually her crying stopped and the pair continued on back to their village, cold wind softly brushing their skin. Once more distance was taken, Jackson found his mother began to grow back to her usual self, no longer so reflecting and emotional and replaced by her joking self with her gentle and kind actions. Jackson was a smart child for his age, and when he saw that change in his mother's actions, he could see she had healed the best way she could. Looking out to the woods one last time little Jackson saw the frost on the trees and found himself hopeing that wherever his uncle's spirit may be, it was healing just as well as his mom's. With that the boy turned back to the village and headed inside his little cabin to help his mom.