A/N: The following short takes place when Terra is five and Douglas is two.

One of the things that Clara enjoyed the most about teaching where her daughter went to school was that they were able to walk to and from Hollandstoun together with nothing bothering them. There and back, with another round trip for lunch—it was good for them, and facilitated conversation without having the pressure of anyone else around to butt in.

"Mum? Why are we different?"

…though sometimes, it wasn't exactly easy.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" Clara wondered. "Is it because Dad and I don't sound like the other parents?"

"No, not that," Terra said, shaking her head. "Dad is different, Douglas is different, I'm different, but I don't know why."

Her mother's hear skipped a beat. "What makes you think that you're different?"

"I get the feeling that Sjeh Mither doesn't visit everyone, and no one believes me when I say I can talk to the sheep, or that Dad talks to the seals."

"That's because of things far beyond our control, sweetie," Clara frowned. "Your father's different than the other dads at school, and that's fine. It's just…"

"What, Mum?"

"It's just something that's a bit complicated to explain," she finished. It was complicated, attempting to explain to a half-fae child that they weren't fully human to begin with, something that her peers took for granted, but it was something to save for another day. "Say, why don't you run ahead and see what Douglas is doing? I'm sure he's outside in the garden."

"Okay, Mum," Terra said. She slid her backpack off and handed it to Clara, scurrying ahead of her and rushing towards the garden gate. Ignoring the magical crackling that enveloped her in a protective ward that kept Unseelies and other such nasties away from the house, she went through the gate and searched for her brother, who was in an empty flower bed. He was playing with the pillbugs, poking them so that they rolled up and allowing the bolder ones to crawl along his fingers.

"Tehwah!" he grinned, holding up a terrified pillbug. "Wook!"

"That's mean," she frowned. Terra took the insect from Douglas's hand and placed it back in the soft, cool dirt. "You have to be nice to bugs."

Douglas made an irritated noise—he didn't like the idea, but he didn't fight his sister on this one. She was bigger, and bigger meant she could pick him up and drag him to Mummy and Daddy. He rolled in the dirt instead, getting all sorts of grime on his clothes and in his brown curls.

"Douglas!" Terra scolded, putting her fists on her hips. "You know you shouldn't do that!" The girl then watched as her brother stood up on his still-slightly-wobbly legs and bounced over towards another spot in the garden, this one a small lean-to against the wall that he crawled under, assuming she would not follow him. The toddler was proven wrong when she popped up at the other end of the lean-to, sticking her face in to scold him properly.

"Go way," Douglas insisted. He curled up amongst the dead leaves and long grass, not caring how filthy he got. "Tehwah no pway, so Tehwah go way."

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go visit the sheep," his sister said. Almost instantly, the little boy perked up, his eyes sparkling in excitement.

"Sheeps! Sheeps!" he screeched. Douglas crawled out from under the lean-to and climbed onto Terra's back, holding on tight as she ran over to the ladder that was against the sea wall. The one on the garden side was rather short, though the one on the beach side was very tall—taller than Dad—and Terra had to be very careful when climbing down because the sand made it a little wobbly. She got down safely and Douglas leapt off her, looking around frantically for the ovines he wanted to see so desperately.

"Hold my hand, okay?" Terra requested. Her brother took her hand and they walked together along the beach, straying not far from the ladder until they saw a group of five that were munching idly on some beached kelp.

"Sheeps! Hi!"

[Boy! Girl!] they responded. [Eat!]

"We don't eats kelps," Douglas giggled. "Kelps for sheeps." He carefully ran his hand over the nearest sheep's coat, marveling at it. "Fwuffy!"

[Tasty kelp! Good munch!]

"We can't, or else we'll spoil teatime and dinner," Terra explained. "Thank you anyway."

[Miss out! More for us!]

"Ride, please?!" Douglas requested. The smallest sheep bleated in acceptance and knelt down, allowing the toddler to climb upon its back. Another stopped eating and bent down for Terra, and the two sheep began quickly shuffling around on the wet beach, making the siblings cackle in delight. Their mirth was short-lived, however, when their father's face popped up over the sea wall. He seemed worried at first, but when he figured out what his children were up to…

"Alright, off the mutant ponies," he ordered, using his cross voice. He climbed the ladder and shooed away the sheep before crouching down before his children. "What did I tell you about the beach without Mam or me?"

"Don't do it," Douglas sniffled.

"We were being careful though, Dad!" Terra insisted. "We didn't even eat the kelp this time!"

"Come on; let's get back to the house," Ian said. He picked up Douglas and held his hand out for Terra, which she sadly took. "We can come back another time—right now we're getting ready to call Granddad."

"Oh, okay," Terra solemnly nodded.

"Bye sheeps! Wayter!" Douglas called out, waving animatedly. The sheep bleated in reply; another day, Boy. Another day.