Jack Frost had never been one that could be accused of taking himself too seriously. In fact, he often found himself to be the butt of his own jokes more often than not, but he kind of liked it that way. After all, at least if you found yourself to be amusing then that counted as one person laughing at your jokes. And later he would look back at this situation and laugh, entertained by the circumstances. Right now, however, Jack was glad that the rising belief in him had not spread much this far south and no one would see the way he swung ridiculously back and forth, trying to dislodge his hood from the branch of a large oak tree.

Here he was, just trying to do his duty and spread a little winter snow and, yet again, trouble followed. South Africa was very interesting, he had to admit. Cool people, funny accents. And he had a certain fondness for a little town at the base of the Drakensberg Mountains. It was tiny and not much to look at in many respects, but it was quaint and Jack found himself visiting many times (though if you were to ever ask him why he would merely smile and shrug). It was just one such visit that had him in the conundrum that he found himself in now.

He and the wind had always had a love-tolerate relationship, meaning Jack loved using the wind to get from place to place and the wind, ever magnanimous, went along with the idea to get the winter spirit to shut up. Jack admitted there was probably a reason most spirits avoided him; he liked to babble, most the time about nothing, and that seemed to irritate others. And sometimes the filter between his brain and his mouth did not function as well as it should. Call it a curse of being a perpetual teenager.

In all fairness, he had not meant anything with his comment that the wind was beginning to slow down some and was not a nimble as it used to be. It had, but saying so as it was carrying him over the countryside was probably not one of his best ideas as the wind stopped and unceremoniously dropped him into a tree. And it was here he got stuck on a branch by his hood, the cotton material slightly strangling him and causing him to accidentally drop his staff.

"Wind, come on," the winter spirit panted, "You know I was just kidding, right? You blow just as hard as you always have!"

Jack had just gotten his hands around the branch and was pulling the hood free when the wind exploded around him and twirled around him, knocking his hands down and twisting the cotton behind his head enough that it made breathing a bit more difficult. Not that it would kill him, but the feeling was rather uncomfortable. Jack gagged.

"Okay, okay," he croaked, "Not the best wording on my part, sorry. But do you think you could let me down so we can talk about this? You know how my mouth gets away from me sometimes."

The wind blustered around him again, spinning him the opposite direction but leaving him as tightly strung up as before. Okay, a new tactic then. Just as he was about to open his mouth to try again with the offended element, Jack spied a group of four young boys, laughing and hollering, running past his location. Jack smiled to himself and reached up to grab the branch and pulled himself up just enough to gather breath to yell and gain their attention.

"Hey, kids!"

Two of the four thundered past him, never once lifting their eyes from their destination to give even a hint that they had heard his call. The third, a smaller boy looking at least two years younger than the first two, paused feet from the base of his tree and looked up at the Guardian curiously. Luckily, the kid decided that the staff on the ground near his feet was no more interesting than any other stick.

"Hey there, Kid. Think you can give me a hand?"

The boy continued to stand in the dirt of the road, watching the mysterious spirit twisting in the tree, appearing for the entire world to not understand a single word that had come from Jack's mouth.

"Umm, hello?" Jack waved his hands, as if the gesture would clear up his meaning, "Little help?"

The boy continued to stare, keeping his eyes on the spirit even as the fourth of the boys came up beside him, peering up to where Jack hung in the tree and looked right through him. The fourth boy, taller than the other by a couple of inches, nudged the smaller with an elbow and asked a hushed question, careful not to overly jostle the object that he held in his hands. An object that unexpectedly began to writhe in his grip.

Jack paused in his struggle to free himself and focused his attention on the moving thing, suddenly feeling a leaden sensation settling in his gut. In the boy's hands thrashed a dark brown snake, twisting its lighter underbelly into the air in order to try and escape, its black tongue frantically flicking in and out of his mouth.

"Kid, maybe you should tell your friend to put that down. Do you have any idea how dangerous that thing is?!"

Jack continued to try and free himself as the smaller boy continued to watch and the taller of the two kept speaking to his friend in quiet tones. Jack pulled himself up, almost yanking the hood free, but just as he had the fabric practically over the limb, his hands slipped and he dropped back down, strangling himself once again.

The slighter boy snickered at the spirits predicament, never once moving to help. Jack continued to gag and pull at the fabric around his neck as the child turned to his friend and smiled mischievously before speaking rapidly in a language Jack couldn't understand. The other boy shared his smile and looked down at the still squirming animal then back at his friend. Jack frantically reached out towards the children, vainly hoping that they would look back to him and understand his concern. Giggling madly, both the boys turned back the way that their friends had gone and sprinted away, neither one looking back to see the hanging apparition.

Jack continued to tug at the hoodie, struggling to gain a decent grip on the wood above him. He continued long after the dust from the kids feet began to settle, even after he knew that the boys were gone and the sun began to set. Even if he was able to find the boys now, their mischief with the snake was likely to be over, with nothing he could about it.

Finally, as the moon rose in his peripheral vision, Jack let his arms fall to his sides and groaned. Getting out of the tree on his own was turning out to be a futile endeavor and there was only one thing that he could think of to solve his dilemma.

"Okay, you win. I give," the spirit rasped.

There was no response from the wind, at least none that the winter spirit was able to discern. Rolling his eyes to the stars, Jack groaned.

"Please?"

Long minutes passed as Jack waited, hoping for a favorable response from the sentient element. Finally, just when the Guardian was about to give up and try and continue to figure out a way to get himself out of the tree, the wind blasted through the branches in such a violent fashion that the branch that held the young spirit creaked loudly before snapping. Abruptly, Jack was dropped to the ground, knocking whatever breath he still had from his lungs and creating billows of dust around his pale form as though the dirt had sprung forth from him itself.

Jack stared up at the sky, laying spread eagle for several moments before he was able to pull in a ragged gasp of air. Coughing harshly, he pushed himself up and tried to keep from breathing in the still airborne dust particles dancing in front of his face.

"How about-"he wheezed, "how about we call a truce?"

A slight breeze rustled through his hair hesitantly and Jack grinned.

"So," he grunted as he stood, wobbling slightly due to his recent lack of air, "to the North Pole?"

Jack smirked as he hung upside down over his intended victim. The large yeti was none the wiser of his mischievous stalker and continued working contentedly on the toy boats that he was painting. The yeti turned to grab another color from his stand of paints, leaving the boat open to anyone who happened to stalk by. Just the opportunity that Jack was hoping for.

Quickly Jack reached out with one pale hand and wiped a still fresh line of blue paint from the hull of the toy, moving just in time to keep from being caught as the other turned back to his work. Jack snickered quietly to himself as the yeti exclaimed loudly at the streak of paint-less area on boat. The yeti scrambled for the blue paint that he had lay to the side only to turn and find the streak gone. Confused, he observed the toy for a moment before shrugging and turning back to his table to paints and reaching for another color. As he turned back, the yeti squealed in alarm as the blue hull that had previously been on the boat was now red.

Jack, ever the spirit of maturity, was floating in the air, doubled over in silent hysterics as the yeti frantically searched around and under the desk, desperately trying to figure out what was causing his paint to continue to change. Slowly calming from his fit, Jack watched as the yeti sat back down before the toy, eyeing the object suspiciously as he slowly reached for a new can of paint. Jack readied his staff, waiting for the other to turn away for a second, only to be yanked back away from the startled creature and into a large solid form. Jack looked up to find the bright blue eyes of North staring down at him with disapproval and a hint of humor.

"Jack," the older Guardian chastised, "should not pester, Phil. Is still frustrated over last time with dolls."

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Common, North. What little girl doesn't want a kick-ass mutant baby doll?"

Jack pulled out of the other's grip, deftly avoiding the swiping paw of Phil, and jumping to balance on top of his staff.

"I mean, if I were a girl, I think that would be the best thing ever!" North chuckled and shook his head.

"Let's just let yetis worry about toys for children, yes?"

North moved away from the work station and moved further into the workshop and Jack watched him for a moment before hoping down to the floor. Turning a little to look back as he walked, Jack gave a mock salute to the fuming yeti staring after him.

"See you later, Phil."

Jack deftly avoided the wrench that sailed by his head and slid through the halfway open door that North left open in his wake. He rushed to follow the large form that was moving down the hallway, trying and failing to hide his smile as the other man looked at him over his shoulder with a raised brow.

Jack followed the older man into his large Globe room and watched as North began pushing buttons over the console and flipping switches. Jack pulled himself up on the counter beside the board to watch the Guardian of Wonder work.

"What's up, Chuckles?"

It was a true testament to how comfortable North had become to having the younger spirit around that he didn't even flinch at the nickname. North simply continued with his work, never once pausing.

"Need to call a meeting and the signal must be sent."

Jack cocked his head and frowned.

"You mean your incredible light of awesomeness that excessively brightens the night sky and blinds all the poor birds that happen to be in the way?"

North paused in his movements and looked over to the winter spirit. He stood from his position hunched over the levers and raised a brow at the younger spirit.

"You have another idea?"

Jack couldn't help but smirk. Oh, yes. Yes he did.