Back again! I hope everyone is safe and well.
Tatum shuffled back into the living room with a collection of things: a sketchbook, a pencil case, and perhaps most surprisingly, a bearded dragon clinging to the top of the stack.
"Spaghetti's been missing you, Jay," Tatum said. They held out the stack while Julius held out his hand. "You're his favorite heat source."
"...You named your lizard Spaghetti." Bunny deadpanned. Tatum shrugged and moved to check the kitchen stove. The kettle was beginning to whistle.
"Don't make fun of his name!" Julius said. He let the creature settle onto his shoulder and gave him a pat. "Spaghetti's friendly and he's got good taste."
Jack smirked at his friend. As much as he wanted to reach out and pet little Spaghetti, the creature had never reacted well to his natural body temperature. That was why he curled up on Julius, after all.
"Cider and tea, anyone?" Tatum asked. They brought in a tray with mugs on mugs, all different colors and shapes. "I'm making a pie, too, but it's not done just yet."
"It smells amazing already~" Clover said. She took a mug of apple cider from the tray. Tatum grinned at her praise.
"You definitely take after the coziness of fall, Tatum," Tooth said. "Would you mind telling us more about you?"
"Oh, uh, if that's what you wanna hear. I mean…" Tatum distributed a mug to everyone present, before stepping to the kitchen to get one for themself. "I don't think there's much to tell, at least anything that's interesting."
"What? You're plenty interesting!" Jack said, shifting around on the beanbag. "Not many spirits can bring autumn 'round the world."
"Heh, I guess that's true. Same goes for winter, spring, and summer, huh?" Tatum paused for a sip of their drink. "Um, before I go babbling, can I ask something of you all?"
"Yeah?"
Tatum sat cross-legged on the floor between the kitchen and living room. They held up their sketchbook and pencils.
"May I draw you? Just, the scene here right now? You don't have to do anything special, I'd just be sketching."
"Oh...that okay with you all?" Jack turned to the other Guardians. Tooth nodded, North said all was well, Bunny shrugged, and Sandy created a happy face above his head.
"Cool!" Tatum pulled a handful of colored pencils from the case. As they flipped to a fresh page in the sketchbook, they began to speak.
"I couldn't tell you exactly when I became a spirit, or rather...when I recognized it. I remember being around a long, long time. I kind of...went about life, enjoying it, from the colors to the sounds to the people. Mother Nature reached out to me first."
Tatum gazed at Tooth's feathers, just for a moment.
"I decided to go with her. Over time, I decided to live out here by myself...well, me and the plants, and pets like Spaghetti. Humans lose touch of spirits all the time. Sometimes they don't bother to understand us, either. So, after a while of that, I figured being here was for the best."
Tatum's mouth quirked into a little, tired smile. They studied their sketch for a moment, looking between their guests and their work. Then they started up, pencil scratches mingling with the crackle of the stove.
"Anyway, I learned how to do a lot of things. I fell in love with gardening and making art. Oh, especially painting things like...this!"
Tatum stopped their sketching and flipped the page. They turned it around for everyone to see. It was a drawing of a landscape, filed with fallen autumn leaves and mossy earth. It looked as though you could step right into the scene.
"That's beautiful!" Tooth gasped.
"A great eye for colors!" said North, peering closer. Jack fought back a smile, knowing what was coming next.
"That's not all…" Tatum said. As they spoke, the colors seemed to jump forth even more - until Tooth gasped again and leaned back from it. Not merely colors, but mushrooms, began to bloom from the paper. Puffballs, oysters, buttons, chanterelles, all sprouting every which way.
"It only happens with one particular tool of mine. But it never fails!"
"Is this why you never stop making mushroom foods?" Clover asked. Tatum stuck their tongue out at her.
"Better than the mint invading my house. Speaking of which, I still need you guys to take some."
A timer dinged from the kitchen. Tatum grinned and went for the pie.
Soon the room was filled with even more of the sugary, spicy aroma of homemade apple pie. Jack tuned out just a bit as Tatum and North gushed over baking techniques, the others chiming in with their favorite foods. Everyone got a great big slice of pie (except Spaghetti, who got butternut squash and collard greens) on a hand-carved wooden plate. Jack ate in relative silence.
He was thoroughly spaced out when he felt a hand tap his shoulder. He blinked, registering the scene again; Clover and Julius were playfully arguing about something, somehow bringing in the other Guardians, and even asking Spaghetti of his opinion. Tatum was the one who had tapped him, and who was now offering Jack a caramel candy. Once he took it, Tatum nodded toward the back room.
"Wanna escape for a minute?"
Jack nodded.
The casual noise from inside was muffled once Jack passed through the door of Tatum's bedroom. One could barely tell where the floor ended and the bed began, but Tatum simply stepped over the pillow-blanket pile and headed for a door on the back wall. It opened back to the outside. Tatum gestured for Jack to follow.
Jack had only visited the backyard once. It was surrounded by shrubs, and then by trees. Leaves drifted down slowly on a quiet breeze. Jack and Tatum marched to the middle of the yard, and as soon as both spirits stopped walking, there was silence.
"Lie down," Tatum said as they took a seat in the mossy lawn. Jack did so, on the opposite side of his friend. They both flopped back onto the cushioned ground.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Tatum asked.
"Talk about what?" said Jack.
"Whatever it is. Do you want to talk about it?"
"...I dunno."
"That's okay. We can stay like this for a while."
Jack tried to peer at Tatum's face. It was hard to see, but he thought he could determine a smile. From the tone of Tatum's voice, Jack imagined the same smile from the story they told: tired, resigned. Jack sighed; tired, resigned.
"...I think I can talk, just a little bit."
Oh, to lie on a bed of moss and tell a spirit your problems...