He was so sick of this day. It had started so well, mischief in Russia, then mischief in Burgess, and then this happened. It had been three hundred years since Man in Moon had talked to him and after three hundred years, he felt he deserved an answer, just not this particular one. He was stunned and the only thing he could do was question everything. He couldn't trust the guardians, this was the first time they had ever met, and he had heard stories through the wind that the guardians usually greeted every new spirit, so why was he left alone. They were lying to him, playing with him because they knew that every spirit wanted to talk to Man in Moon, so they were lying to get him to join their stupid elite club. He was angry and he had been angry the entire time he was in the workshop, but once North told him he couldn't say no, that this was his destiny, he was furious. This wasn't the answer this was a sick joke.
Maybe he should have waited until he calmed down a little before he spoke again because when he did, he went on a rant, one that he has been holding in for far too long. The guardians may be what most spirits strive to be, a club that most wanted to be apart of, but all they were, were spirits who made castles and homes to hide in for eternity and think of ways to bribe the kids into believing in them instead of interacting with them or giving them a glimpse of themselves. They were real, they were believed in, and instead of letting children see them, they hid away. They had no idea how good they had it. They didn't have to worry about walking down the street for the same reason he did. If they walked down the streets, kids would swarm them and laugh and they would be so happy, but if he did the same, he had to float a little above the street or constantly be dodging the people walking because even after three hundred years, having a child or even an adult phase through him, like he wasn't there, like he didn't even exist was still the most painful thing he had experienced. It felt like his whole person was being ripped apart, he could feel every part that they walked through twinge in pain, and he would have spasms running through his body for hours after the fact.
The guardians may be content to sit in their hideaways and get believers with toys and eggs and money, but he was not. He loved the feeling of wind in his hair, and the joy he got from seeing the smiles on a child's face after snow fell in the middle of the night was irreplaceable. He didn't care if it was his destiny, he had no desire to be a guardian, and he let them know that, in no uncertain terms, wincing at the look on their faces, tacking on a no offense at the end of his rant. He turned to walk away, satisfied with himself, he had gotten some things off his chest that had been festering for years, and he thought that after he made it clear that he would not be joining they would finally let him walk away, oh how wrong he was.
The Easter Bunny was the one to speak, which he was not expecting. If anyone was going to respond to his rant, he thought it would have been North, but apparently his words had struck a cord in the rabbit. He knew his place in the world, he was supposed to bring winter, and honestly that was all he was expected to do, but over the years he had found a way to bring joy to kids with his powers, and not just fear. The cold and darkness that typically accompanied winter was enough to keep people locked in their homes when he had first started as a spirit. He barely had a grasp on his powers so often the snow wouldn't be peacefully falling, it would be a full-on blizzard. He couldn't be blamed too harshly though, after all he was on his own, left to figure out the powers he had been given. He got better control once he accepted his spot in the world, and now he brought joy, not sadness or fear, so that's why when the rabbit asked what he knew about bringing joy to children and said that they had dodged a bullet he stopped.
He wasn't dumb. He knew that most other spirits weren't fond of him, hell he wasn't fond of himself, but he was sick of being talked down too just because he was cursed with powers of winter, of cold and snow and fear. He didn't ask to be chosen and they didn't ask either, but that didn't given them the right to talk down on him, when all he had done was try to be good, sure he caused mischief, but that was a given, considering he was as far as he could tell, a child.
He snorted and turned around, surely bunny hadn't missed snow days. He knew he cut it close to Easter a few times, so he would have seen the joy on the children's faces as they raced outside on a snow day. He knew he was still angry, knew he needed to get out, but proving bunny wrong was worth the risk, so his words were once again layered with undertones of anger. He knew he wasn't as popular as the big four but ask any child whether they would pick a snow day or an egg, three guesses on which one they chose. He knew that bringing up the rabbit's holiday would be a low-blow, even he knew that, he had heard stories through the wind of when other spirits messed with or talked bad about the big fours' holidays but bunny had hit first, so he didn't have too many regrets, until the rabbit said what he was sure everyone had been thinking, because it's what he had been thinking about the entire time he was here.
It still stung. He had three hundred years under his belt, but not a single believer, and it was hard for him to think about it, so he did everything he could to forget about it. The rabbit had believers, and had had them for years, so maybe that's why he thought it was okay to bring it up, but it stung, and cold feeling radiated out from his heart to the rest of his body. He was used to feeling numb, he worked very hard on perfecting the art of feeling numb, doing whatever he had to do to stay numb, but now, surrounded by the big four, being forced to think about that fact that he was invisible. It hurt, and he couldn't do a thing to reign in his emotions, so he did what he always did and tried to laugh it off, letting out a small chuckle and smirk that he knew didn't reach his eyes.
He heard one of the others tell the rabbit to quit, but the damage was done. He was invisible. He was invisible to children, adults, and other spirits. No spirits talked to him, this was the first conversation he had had with another person, spirit or otherwise in three hundred years, and he felt like he couldn't breathe and he knew his reputation was that of a troublemaker, so he did what was expected, he made a joke. He called the rabbit a kangaroo because he really did kinda look like one, and he did not expect the kangaroo to blow up like he did, and they kept going back and forth. He was a kangaroo, no bunny looked like that and he had been wanting to ask for years what kind of creature he was because he really wasn't a bunny, he was closer to a kangaroo than a bunny and so he asked the rabbit, kangaroo, whatever he was just that, and the response was a low-blow.
He didn't understand why the kangaroo kept bringing up the fact that he wasn't believed in, but this time he couldn't help the hurt that flashed across his face. He was still reeling from the previous comments, and this time it felt like his already broken soul shattered a little bit more. He felt his eyes well with tears and he knew that if he didn't leave soon, he was going to break in front of the people that he was supposed to feel protected by, supposed to feel comfortable around. He needed to go home and reign himself back in before he caused blizzards across the world. He was still nose to nose with the rabbit when North asked him to take a walk, and anywhere was better than being in the same room as the rabbit so he agreed. He could contain his emotions for a little while longer until he would be able to go back home and then he would fix himself, like he always does.