A/N: This chapter takes place during December of 1804, with Snowdrop having come to life…oh, let's say 4 December 1804. Don't ask why that particular day. I just like it for this. This chapter covers the first few weeks of December, leading up to Christmas. Now then, ONWARDS!
Ch. 8 – What's Christmas?
Jack woke up to an empty snowdrift bed. Panic set in as he clambered up, staff in hand, and started looking around frantically.
"Snowdrop?" No answer. "Snowdrop!?" There was a slight edge of hysteria to his voice as he ran to the cave entrance. Still, no response. "Snowdrop!" His frightened cry echoed across the frozen tundra.
"Yes?"
Jack spun around. There she was, emerging from one of the tunnels, carrying a bundle of white in her arms with Jack's carving tools resting atop it. He ran to her, still panicked over not finding her. Snowdrop dropped her burden and opened her arms for him. As soon as his body connected with hers she wrapped her frozen limbs tight around him and started stroking his hair.
"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'm right here, Jack, I'm right here." He clung tight to her shirt and buried his face in her neck, shaking in both fear and relief. "Oh, my sweet little Frostie Toes, what's wrong?"
He shuddered, briefly recalling a different set of fingers carding through his hair, grey fingers of a cruel grey man; of a black boot kicking him; of the shattered remains of a head of ice.
Snowdrop pulled his face away and locked eyes with him. "Jack, what's wrong?"
Hailstone tears fell from his eyes. She led him over to their snowdrift bed and laid him down on his side, his head on her lap as she sat with him, his staff laid flat on the ground beside them. His tears rolled down his face, over her legs, and created little craters in the snow beneath them. Her fingers returned to his hair, massaging his scalp, while she leant back against her other arm. Jack curled his hand around her knee. The solid feel of the ice-flesh beneath his own chilled fingers did a great deal to settle his nerves. The fingers in his hair, the almost-silent tinkle-click sound they made, eased his trembling as he allowed his friend's gesture erase the memory-feel of Pitch Black.
It was only after Jack had calmed down that he was able to speak. "I thought you were gone." He started. Snowdrop made a noncommittal sound and encouraged him to continue. "I didn't think you left, I thought…I thought Pitch had come back…and killed you."
The fingers spasmed in his hair briefly before continuing their movement. "Who's Pitch, Frostie Toes?"
A brief smile flitted across Jack's lips at the nickname before he frowned. "Pitch…Pitch Black is…he's a cruel man. No, he's a creature. He came here a while ago…" Jack told her about his encounter with the bleak man, how Jack thought he cared and had told the man all about his woe-begotten life. He told her about Pitch trying to make Jack think his life was only pain and hardships, and how Jack had denied it. His voice shook as he told her about the attack, both on her (or at least, the head) and on himself.
That story led him to tell her everything. Everything he had told Pitch, he now repeated to Snowdrop. The Snow People, Justin, the encounters with other spirits, good and bad. When he finished Snowdrop pulled him onto his back and pressed her forehead against his. Her hand stayed in his hair and the other moved to rest over his heart. "My sweet, brave Frostie Toes. I don't know what those other spirits are thinking, but you are a darling boy. Bunnymund sounds like a cranky old man, North needs to take a closer look at what makes someone good and what makes them naughty, that Tommy boy is going to get a good thump if I ever meet him, Akitu – "
Jack wrapped his arms around her neck and rolled. She went with the motion and they ended up with her on her back, legs dangling over the snowdrift, and Jack was propped up over her torso, his feet resting on what not long ago had been his pillow. "Why?"
Why. A simple word that rarely led to a simple answer. Snowdrop cocked her head to the side, "Why what?"
The Winter Child shifted so he could rest his head on her chest, the steady "tha-thump" of her heart beating beneath his ear. "Why would you take on Rawhead, or Akitu? Or any of the others I'm sure you were about to name? They could hurt you. They could k-kill you. I don't want you to get hurt." The very thought of any sort of harm befalling her brought such a fierce protectiveness up in him that his own heart started to pound and his hands clenched into fists on either side of Snowdrop's torso.
The giggles that answered him almost caused him to sit up, but Snowdrop was rubbing his back and gripping one of his fists in hers. "For the same reason, sweetling, that you seem so upset over my getting hurt by them. We're friends, but even more than that, we're family." He did pull away, then, bright eyes wide in surprise. She pulled him back down, twisting his body so he was on his back and repositioned his ear over her heart. The hand that had been rubbing his back returned to rest over his heart. For the first time, Jack realized their hearts were beating in sync. "Yes, you silly boy. We're family. Just as the lake is Mother to you, the ocean is Mother to me. And just as you are Brother to Justin, you are Brother to me. I am Sister. You're also Father, though, because you made us." Jack made a sound of protest but she hushed him, "I'm not done. You are Father, but only in that we were made by your hands. More than anything, eclipsing the status of Father, you are Brother. In fact," Her fingers finally succeeded in prying his fist open and she twined their hands together, "I think you're Little Brother. Yes," Jack had jerked in an effort to rise, but she held him tight to her, "yes, you are Little Brother. You may be older than I am, Frostie Toes, and you may be worldly, but you are a child, still. You made a friend, yes, but in your heart you had a secret wish, a desire you didn't think you could have. You wanted a family. You wanted a big brother to fight with, a big sister to care for you. You wanted a mother to nurture you, and a father to teach you. The lake is Mother. Justin is Brother. I am Sister. And Father…Father for you, Jack, is the Moon."
This time, Jack managed to pull away. "NO!" Large icicles shook in the ceiling at his shout as he leapt to his feet and scooped up his staff, "The Moon is no father, not me. A father cares for you, protects you, teaches you. The Moon has never done those things for me! The only thing he ever did was tell me my name. He – "
Snowdrop was on her feet, now, and cut him off. "He was there for you when you were trapped in the darkness, Jack." She spread her arms to either side of her body and quoted what he had told her not long ago, "You saw the moon. It was big, and bright, and it chased the darkness away. And what else, Jack? What did you feel? Tell me again what you felt when the Moon chased the darkness away."
He was silent, silent for so long that most people would have given up and left it alone. But Snowdrop had been made with patience, and she could wait until the Moon fell from the sky and the sun went black and cold if she had to. Finally, the Wind wrapping around the pair and bringing the sounds of birds into the cave, Jack answered.
"I wasn't scared anymore."
She smiled and crossed the cave to pull him back into her arms. "The Moon isn't a very good father, Jack, but he is your Father nonetheless. I can't say that I like that he's left you just as alone as everyone else for so very long, but he watches you every night, and he protects you as best he can in the darkness. It's not much, and it surely isn't enough, but, I think, it's all he can give you, from so very far away," She held him tight, "But you have me, now, Frostie Toes. And I'll never leave you. I'll protect you as long as you'll let me; I'll be your Best Friend and you Big Sister. I'm afraid, though," and here she pulled him back and cupped his face in her hands, "that you'll have to teach me for now, Little Father/Brother." She brought his head down and pressed an icy kiss to the tip of his nose, "Deal?"
Jack laughed and copied the gesture, his heart lighter than he could ever remember is being, "Deal, Daughter/Sister."
The Wind wove through their hair, ruffling white strands and tickling its Frost Child with the long snowflake chains of its Ice Child. They laughed at the incorporeal being's gesture. Together, hand in hand with the Wind weaving around them, they ran out into the world drenched in Moonlight, and under the watchful gaze of the Father of Winter's Child, they played.
*************I Could Put a Clever Line Here, But I've None to Give*******
They took their new roles seriously: Jack played the part of Father to Snowdrop, while Snowdrop upheld her duty as his Big Sister, and they both held strong to their roles as Friends. Jack cautioned her to be careful near the water so she didn't fall in, as neither of them knew how to swim and prolonged exposure to the liquid would likely cause her to melt. When they slept, and golden dream sand had not found them, Snowdrop held him close to ward off the nightmares caused by Pitch Black's threats. They played hide-n-seek in the tunnels and caverns, wrestled in the snow outside and built forts, and played games of make-believe.
The bundle that Snowdrop had dropped days previous was finally remembered and she laid out some of the clothes she had found. A shirt, dress, bonnet, and cape were spread out on the floor of the main cave.
"What are these, Frostie Toes?"
Jack laughed as he realized he hadn't yet told her about clothing. To be fair, though, it hadn't been high on his list of things to teach. Or really, it hadn't been on his list at all. Some knowledge he just took for granted…
Gesturing for her to help, they gathered the snow-and-frost made clothes and headed back to the small cave they had been housed in. There, he pulled out each individual article and showed them to her, naming off what each one was as he went.
There was a simple gown, fashioned after the type the women wore in small villages; several shirts varying in style the pairs' tunics to sleeveless ones, long ones that reach their ankles and were called "night shirts" by the humans, others that were held closed with buttons or toggles of ice; he showed her something called a kimono that he saw in Asia, robes like they wore in the desert nations, and a dress with a high waistline and short puffy sleeves. There were several bonnets, each more outrageous than the last, and a few capes, one with a hood, one without. Pants were shown, some the same as what they wore, some longer, a few only knee-length. The final piece he showed was a dress that had to be tied up in the front and had such massive hips that he had been forced to stuff it with snow the achieve the effect. They had laughed themselves silly at the dress, teasing the little bows and ruffles that decorated it. Snowdrop insisted that the large hips were made to rest one's arms on when they were bored, while Jack thought they might have been there to hold cups or plates of the food mortals so enjoyed.
Of course, showing off the clothes had prompted a game of dress up. Jack had made everything to fit Snowdrop, but her body was similar enough to his own that they each were able to try on every piece. Jack was the first to wear the wide hipped dress while Snowdrop donned the night shirt with one of the sleeveless button-up shirts over the top. He pulled the most ridiculous of the bonnets on his head, a wide brimmed affair with a massive feather of ice and frost stuck in it. Snowdrop had fallen to the floor in a fit of giggles at the sight of him. Jack had grinned widely and plopped another bonnet on her head, the back of which molded to her head while the front sported its own brim, the overall effect making her head look like a giant leaf.
When Snowdrop tried on the wide hipped dress, it fit her body perfectly. Where on Jack the top had been a loose while the midsection had been tight, on Snowdrop it molded to her body as if it had been made on her. Jack wore a long sleeved top with toggles and the knee-length trousers. Thus adorned, they paraded around the tunnels and caverns, pretending to be visiting friends and sharing treats, really just snowballs and icicles, at every 'door.'
They passed a great deal of time dressing up, finding new combinations and thinking up different ideas to be made. The hooded cloak Snowdrop took a particular fancy to, and soon it became a part of her everyday attire, fluttering behind her like great white wings as they ran and played.
Their evenings, or what they called evenings, as the perpetual night made it difficult to tell how much time passed at any given point, were spent with either Jack teaching Snowdrop how to carve simple items from ice, or else the Winter Spirit would curl up with the Ice Being and tell her stories of all the places he'd been. He created pictures with snow, much as the Sandman did with his dreamsand, to illustrate his tales. He created mini-Norths and tiny-Bunnymunds, small Sandmen on clouds of snowflakes to represent his preferred mode of travel. Akitu and Miochin were surrounded by flowers so small and fragile that the Wind often accidently destroyed them. Thor, Loki, and the Norse gods made appearances, their features vague as Jack had only seen them briefly before flying away for fear of being attacked. Cupid, his tiny wings like spun sugar, stood beside Atlas and Artemis. The eight-armed Kali, adorned with a necklace of skulls and skirt made of human arms, danced beneath the body of Nut, the Egyptian deity's gown sparkling like the night sky. At Snowdrop's request, he even created a small Tommy Rawhead, AKA Bloody Bones, for her. It was quickly crushed beneath her own heel.
Startled at the show of violence, Jack had twisted so he could look up at her, disrupting her gently brushing her fingers through his hair. "What was that for?"
She smiled down at him and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "You won't let me confront the real one, so I thought I could at least show a fake one what would happen to him if he ever hurt my Little Brother again."
Chuckling, he made another little Tommy and watched, delighted, as it was again smashed beneath a frozen foot. They ended up rounding that night off by covering the floor with Tiny Tommys and Puny Pitches, which were all soundly smashed beneath the dancing feet of two youths forever frozen in time.
It was about half way through December before Snowdrop, laid out flat on their bed with Jack's head pillowed on her stomach, fingers as usual carding through his hair, asked him "What does North do, Frostie Toes?"
Jack, drowsy from her ministrations, gave a questioning hum in response.
Tinkling laughter responded as her hand paused and an icy digit tapped his nose. "I asked you what Nicholas St. North does, sweetling."
He whimpered and butted his head against her still hand until she laughed again and resumed petting his hair. A cheeky grin spread across his face before he responded. "He's Santa Claus. You know, bringer of presents to good little girls and boys on Christmas, coal to the bad ones."
There was silence for a few minutes before she followed up with "What's Christmas?"
His smile vanished under a thoughtful frown. What's Christmas? Everyone knows what Chr – oh. Oops. This Father Teaching thing is hard.
"Christmas…it's a holiday, celebrated on December 25. Santa Claus, North, he goes around the world on Christmas Eve, the 24th, and delivers presents to good kids all over the world. Bad kids, they get coal."
"How does he know who is good and who is bad?"
"He's got this List. Two, actually, one Naughty, one Nice. He checks it, and…I don't know. Maybe it's magic. Maybe North doesn't actually know, but the List does, and it tells him who to give gifts to." He fidgeted under her hand, anticipating her next question but praying to the Moon she wouldn't ask it.
"What has he given you?"
But then, when has the Moon ever answered his prayers.
He remained silent, hoping she'd think he fell asleep so he would answer, but Snowdrop wasn't having it. "Come on, Frostie Toes, what has Santa North given you?"
He snickered. "It's not 'Santa North'?"
Her body shifted beneath him and he got the impression she was shrugging. "Nicholas St. Clause, then, and don't change the subject."
The frown was back, shame tinting it as he pulled himself into a sitting position and muttered his answer. Frozen arms wrapped around his chest as an icy chin was propped on his shoulder. "I didn't hear that, Jack Toes."
The smile flickered across his lips as he huffed a laugh and rested his cheek in her hair. "I said he's never given me anything."
Suddenly his headrest of gone, the arms quickly following. Hard fingers gripped his shoulders and spun him around almost violently. The almost-blue of her eyes was flaring with anger as she scowled at him. "What do you mean he's never brought you anything? For the love of freshly fallen snow, is he mad?!" (1) Jack blinked at the ferocity of her words and tried to speak, but his Ice Friend wasn't done. "What right does he have to say you don't get anything for Christmas? How long as this Christmas thing been going on? Is it new? Maybe he just doesn't know you're here. We should let him know! That's what we'll do –" Her hands dropped from his shoulders and she instead took one of his in hers, pulling him to his feet and towards the cave entrance, "Come on then, we'll go see him and let him know you're here, so he can give you a present for Christmas. When's Christmas? Is it soon?"
"Um…it's in about a week…eight days. Snowdrop –"
She wasn't listening. "That's all? Well, hurry up, then. If we don't hurry he won't have time to make you something. What would you like? Does it work like that? Do you ask him for something, or does he give you what he thinks you'll like? Or does he give you things you need? You can tell me on the way. Hurry up, Jack! Call the Wind so we can –"
"Stop!" His shout halted her mid-step, literally. One leg was hanging in the air from where she had just lifted it from the ground, all of her weight balanced on the ball of her left foot. Almost-blue eyes focused on him as she turned her head. More questions shown in the icy depths. Jack could see the pulsing light of her snowflake heart through her shirt, flashing faster than it ever had before. "Snowdrop, stop. North's never brought me a present, not in over a hundred years. He said I was on the Naughty list, and I guess I just…never got off it…"
"What?" The whispered word was so broken that Jack expected Snowdrop to shatter. She turned fully to face him, both feet planted firmly on the ground as her eyes bore into his. Questioned swirled in the icy orbs as she tried to understand, tried to fathom how her Friend/Father/Brother could be on the Naughty List not once, not twice, but for a hundred years solid.
Rubbing the back of his head with his free hand, Jack shifted his gaze to the wall. "I…it's not…it's alright. I'm used to it, Snowdrop. It's nothing to be upset over…" Focusing again on his friend, he felt all placations freeze and die in his throat.
In that moment, when Snowdrop's eyes dulled and her lower lip trembled, when she took his face in her hands and pressed her forehead against his, Jack realized that while he had given Snowdrop life, he had denied her something else. Snowdrop couldn't cry. She couldn't express her sorrow in any way but with words and expression. She'd never know the cathartic release that a good cry could give. She'd never be able to expel her anguish like he, or anyone else, could. Jack gave her life, but he overlooked the full capacity of it.
As her face twisted in sorrow for him, so, too, did Jack's for her. But while he could cry, the quiet plink-plink of his hailstone tears evident in the near-silent cave, she couldn't.
Winter's Children wrapped their arms around one another. As one cried, the other shivered in sorrow. And together, they moved back to their snowdrift bed, laid down, and eventually fell asleep under a blanket of snow and grief.
*****In the Darkness, Secrets Are Bred; Some Are Good, and Some are…****
One slim figure rose from the bed, gently disentangling their form from the other who slept. Silently, they crept about the cavern, gathering small pebble-like objects from the floor and secreting them away in a small niche behind an ice spire. A collection of pebbles were already housed in the niche, but it was far from full.
Slipping carefully back into the bed, hollow arms wrapped around the pale boy and tucked his head against the glow of a snowflake heart. "Don't worry, Frostie Toes. One day, you won't have to cry every again." Snowdrop placed a quick kiss on the end of Jack's nose, then closed her eyes and joined him in sleep.
***********…Some We Wish Were Dead…************
As sleep once more claimed Frost and Ice Child, a shadow pulled away from the cavern wall and approached the bed.
Yellow eyes observed the two figures, curiosity quickly overshadowed by a vicious sort of glee that only nightmares can take joy in.
"Oh, my dear boy, look what you've done," Pitch's voice was a breathy whisper as his grey fingers reached out and ran through snowflake chains of hair. "Such a clever, clever boy." The digits retracted as the Frost Child murmured unintelligibly in his sleep. Too sharp teeth flashed in the dark as Pitch rose to his full height and moved back to the shadows. "A clever, lonely boy. Bravo, Jack. Bravo. I do look forward to the next time we meet…" Darkness swirled around his form, and then he was gone.
******…And Some Secrets Shall Remain in the Author's Head…For Now***
A/N:
Well…that was an unexpected development. Hello, Kozmotis. A pleasure to see you again…well, sort of. You help move the plot along, dear sir.
Please excuse any spelling or grammatical errors you may find whilst reading. I'm working on this during classes and late at night/early in the morning, so I'm not always able to catch my mistakes. The lack of a Beta also poses an issue…Ah well! *smiles*
Anyway, some explanations:
Thor, Loki, and the Norse gods: A bit self-explanatory, that one, but for those of you who have lived under a rock and thus haven't heard of them, here we go: Thor is the son of Odin (Lord of the Norse Gods), and god of thunder; he has a fancy hammer; Loki is a trickster and the god of mischief; the Norse gods are the Norse gods and goddesses…yup.
Cupid, Atlas, and Artemis: Cupid is the god of love; his form in this story is NOT a naked baby; he's a full grown man, with a short skirt-esque wrapping to cover his *ahem* Cupid-bits, curly auburn hair, and white angel-like wings; Atlas is a Greek Titan who was forced to carry the sky upon his shoulders by Zeus (king of the Greek gods); Artemis is the goddess of the hunt among other things, usually dressed in a knee length chiton; Yes, I put a Roman god with a Greek goddess and titan; but they are, essentially, the same beings in both mythologies, so they get to chill together. And I'm aware that Atlas was actually a bad guy, but you know what? He's been holding the sky up for a while, so in my world, he gets a break now and again.
Kali is a Hindu goddess, also known as the Black Mother; her attire is accurate to her portrayal. She dances; she danced in the legend in which she destroyed the demon Raktabija; after defeating him, she danced across the battlefield and over the corpses of the slain; so she's dancing here.
Nut is an Egyptian goddess who body lies over the earth as the night sky. The scene Jack depicts has Kali dancing beneath a floating Nut whose gown (although she's not depicted as wearing clothes, I decided she gets a great flowing gown) of stars covers the sky like a blanket.
(1): "…is he mad?!" she's using 'mad' as in insane, not angry. Like a Mad Scientist.
My word, would you look at all that dialogue towards the end? That might be more dialogue than the other chapters combined…okay, maybe not. In fact, it might not even be that much, but I'm more of a descriptive writer than a dialogue writer, so every time I write a snippet of it, it feels like so muuuuuuuuch!
And now for something we hope you'll really enjoy: RECOGNITION!
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And a special heartfelt love/thanks to my "Author Followers" : Elwyn, , lncross1of7, Lonemachine, and Kaylessa. You five, I'm BAAAAAAAAASKING in your follows.
Response to Reviews (If I haven't responded in some other medium):
Elise-hale913: Yes, yes he is. But…but…I have a soft spot in my heart for poor Kozmotis Pitchiner. Poor dear.
Snowsnowice: Thanks, dearling!
Motaku1235: Ah hahahaha, I think we all want to hurt Pitch at one point or another, but his back-story is so sad that…you start to pity the poor man.
Guest: The fact that they seemed to know each other immediately bothered me in the film. I'm sure William Joyce will account for that in the book series, but until then, we fans have free reign to come up with our own theories! And for this story, this is mine. XD Harry Potter reference, I love it. You can solemnly vow to be up to no good, dearling!
Mistress of the Words: *bows* Thank you, dealing. I agonized over Snowdrop's appearance for a great deal of time! At first, she going to be a rather buxom beauty, but that wasn't working out in my head. After much trial and error, Jack and I decided a slim figure that was distinctly feminine with a pixie-esque face and long snowflake chain hair was perfect. Snowdrop was rather pleased with her appearance. She danced around a fair bit before I could get her to chill out and let me actually write her into being.
Eternal She-Wolf: You asked, here it is!
MysteryPerson: Yes and no. See, I thought maybe you were my cousin, who so seemed like she would have done this just to irk me, what with the whole "Mystery Person, I shan't tell ye who I be!" thing, but then she revealed to me that I was so very wrong. And I call her Fred, while she calls me George. We are the Weasley Twins, for our mischievous ways, in our family!
Death-Sama01: See, that was my question. I do so adore creepy and such, that when I dreamt of him I was sure he was someone I had heard of before and just forgotten about, but all my research lead to nothing that sparked a "Ah ha! I recall when I learned of you!" moment, so…yeah. And thank you, dearling. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Effugere: It's worked! Whether he's lost it or not, for Jack and for us, Snowdrop is alive. Is he crazy? Oh, I don't know. We're all a little crazy, dearling. As ever, just wait and see.
Catflower Queen: *bangs head on desk* Urgh, the research into marionette dolls. I loathe those things; they are almost as bad as porcelain dolls in my book. They are some of the very few things that can, with the right circumstances, creep me the beejeezus out! But right now, they're just grating on my nerves for all the research I had to do on them.
Pitch was trying for companionship, but he's been on his own so long he's kind of forgotten how to act around people. See, the running of his fingers through Jack's hair was a gesture that he recalled only in the vaguest of senses doing for his daughter. But Pitch's heart is corrupt, so while his hand moves to muscle memory, his mind works in darkness. He wants a companion, but he wants one to control and manipulate as a little pawn for his future plans. Sadly for him, Jack pulls out of the stupor his pulled in to and that just sends Pitch into a childish fit. His interest in the still developing Snowdrop? Mayhaps he hoped to plant a seed of fear in her, a few grains of nightmare sand that would allow him to influence Jack from afar and eventually pull the poor child into his web of darkness. But Jack didn't want him touching his friend!
WHEN, my dearling, the other Guardians learn of what Jack's gone through, it shall be a guilt trip of EPIC proportions!
Snowdrop is about Jack's age, a older only by a few years. She's meant to be a Big Sister/Friend type being, but she's also managed to insert herself into the role of Daughter.
Himeko14X: Yes, Jack discovered Antarctica! I wanted him to have a place where he could work in peace, without worrying about anyone disturbing/hurting him. A place where not only was he safe, but where he would feel Snowdrop was safe. A bit of research later and Antarctica became the optimum location.
Kaylessa: *grabs a megaphone* ATTENTION READERS! Kaylessa and I know one another in real life, are dearest friends, and thus are prone to being rude to one another in public because we are such loving friends that we point out one another's faults. That being said *throws megaphone and glares at Kaylessa* XP Also, thanks for pointing out that mistake, my dearest Elf! I'm been so tempted so many times to throw Ombric in this fic, but I shan't. He just won't fit.
And on a final note, I wish to share this with you, my dearlings:
*Note: So…the film from 1979, the claymation film entitled "Jack Frost." I love that film. I watch it every year when they air it on the telly, I watch it in the summer online for the cooling giggles it gives me. I've loved Jack Frost since I was a little mite in the northern areas, and my mum wouldn't let me run outside at the first sight of snow without bundling me up in so many layers I looked a yellow and purple marshmallow. Assuming, of course, she got ahold of me before I ran out the front door, back door, cellar door, or jumped out one of the windows (usually one of the first floor windows, but I will admit to having taken a flying leap with my brothers from the attic once, into a tree, and then scurried down to run around outside. My mum never knew about that one, and she's never on , so I think I'm safe…) Anyway, when she could catch me, she always gave me the classic "You can't go out without bundling up. Jack Frost will nip that little nose right off." Too which I'd respond "If he tries, I'll bite his off!"
And then…I saw "Jack Frost" the claymation film. And like many a little girl, I fell head-over-toes in love with him. Not those blue eyes and blonde hair, I fell in love with the cold he brought. I am a Winter Born Child, and I had found my Winter Love in Jack Frost.
Now then, let me get to the point of all this: I found a pic online several weeks ago, with the Claymation Jack, then RotG Jack beneath it, the words "It was a phase" across it. I have the pic saved on my computer, but I can't for the life of me recall where I found it, or who did it. That being said, I'm debating putting sweet little Frostie Toes in that outfit for about a decade or so, likely around the 1960s, just for giggles. Or I may just keep it in my own head. I don't know. We shall see.
*waves enthusiastically*
IMPORTANT NOTE BECAUSE I MESSED SOMETHING UP, REMOVED IT, AND AM ADDING THIS FOR ANYONE THAT'S ALREADY READ THE CHAPTER, OR IN CASE I HAVE IT WRITTEN SOMEWHERE ELSE
I need to clear something up: Pitch's daughter's name IS NOT KATHERINE. Sorry for the false information, dearlings. Kaylessa, thanks for pointing that out for me! I'm actually well aware of this fact. However, I was writing the last bits of information for Chapter 8 at 2am, after being up since 6am the previous day. I was half asleep, but I really wanted to get that chapter out. Hence the horrific information flub. So sorry, everyone! So, to recap, Pitch's daughter is not named Katherine. That's another character in the Guardians of Childhood series. Pitch's daughter hasn't been named yet. Well, she sort of has, but I won't tell you. That's a spoiler. And Kaylessa hates when I spoil things!
While I have removed "Katherine" from the explanation portion, where I called her Pitch's daughter (she's not) I'm leaving this here in case someone read it already, and then rereads the chapter. This notice will also be on the top of Chapter 9, for those who have already read this chapter and are walking around with a bit of false information in their heads. SORRY!