Fable could feel the anger and hurt blistering from her flesh. It felt as if her insides were burning white hot with the combination. She knew that Frost had not meant any harm in his words. Yet, that didn't keep them at bay; they still managed to consume her in her retort and were carried with her as she led the Guardians through the streets of New York.

Every once in a while she would look over her shoulder to check on Jack. He was still there, though he appeared to be lost in thought for this moment in time. Shaking it off, Fable weaved her way through the alleys, doing her best to avoid large crowds, especially those that contained children.

At last they had arrived at the place where Lydia lived. Fable knew well that she wouldn't be in the building. The child treasured the outdoors, and was normally at the park across the street when the knowledge had found her only a few weeks ago when she came bearing gifts. Though, this time, Lydia was not occupying any of the park benches.

Peering through the grounds of the park, Fable walked past the playground, eyes resting on the small clump of trees. If memory served, Lydia had a favorite spot somewhere in there. Her feet broke the surface of the sheet of iced morning dew that rested on the grass.

A smile painted her features. Lydia was here, and she was reading the first book Fable had gifted her. She wasn't alone either; the feel of a fellow storyteller was at hand. Glancing over to the group, her eyes found Jack. "Come along Jackie boy, time to meet one of your believers."

He didn't come forward. Rolling her eyes, Fable rooted through the group and grabbed him by the sweatshirt, practically dragging him into the trees. "Well come on then!"

The pair abandoned the Guardians at the trees, leaving them to follow from behind. Frost looked around, taking in the trees. He dragged his staff across the ground, allowing the ice to color the dirt. Giving Fable a sideways glance, he attempted an apology. "Look, about what I said earlier…"

She turned, her eyes flashed for a moment "Water under the bridge."

He stared. "You're kidding."

Pushing through the branches, Fable shrugged. "You said your piece I said mine. That's the end of it.

Somehow her words hurt more than the comment about Climate Change. "Do you really want me to melt then?"

Her hand paused as she was about to brush away a branch. "What about you, do you really want me to fade from existence?"

In that moment, Jack saw how hurt she really was by his words. Like him, she lived with the constant fear of no longer being. Jack, like the others survived on the beliefs of children. If they were to stop, he would fade from the eyes of kids, and soon he would be lost from all plains of existence. Fable didn't depend on the children to remain alive, she needed books, she'd said so herself when it came to the wellbeing of her library. And from her reaction, her very life depended on the mortals' use of books. If that would to fall by the wayside, Fable would no longer exist, she would die. It was an understandable fear, and Jack sympathized as did his fellow Guardians. Poking fun at the possibility of a spirit fading was no laughing matter. "I'd never wish that on anyone, especially you, after what you've done for me, for the others."

She smiled gently, her feet moving again, calculating and quick in the mud and ice. "There's your answer. I've read stories of a spirit's dying process. It's different from a mortal's. Our deaths are long; composed of more than a few years, dwelling with a constant pain, constant fear. Even Pitch, doesn't deserve a fate, such as that."

Jack stared at her; she was so serious, so sober. It was almost frightening, if he knew anything, Frost would know that this was the horror side of the storyteller. At times, that side of Fable scared her most, her own knowledge made her afraid. The winter spirit felt the need to change the subject. "How do you know she's here?"

The knowledge spirit sighed, so calm and at peace "I smell a story, I hear imagination alive, I see words weaving images.

She pulled a particular branch away, revealing a little girl sitting on a stone, surrounded by children younger than her. The girl had hair that shone like a first lit fire, and her eyes were like evergreens. Fable leaned against the trunk of a tree, her eyes shone with pride. "There is a storyteller here, and she has an audience of enraptured listeners."

So this little firecracker was Lydia? Jack stood beside Fable, watching and listening as the child stood on her perch, one hand grasping the book, the other dancing through the air as she told her tale. Her audience gasped at her words, Lydia calmed and read at a stage whisper, her fingers clutching at her heart. "His flesh parted, and amid the folds, she found his heart – so cold, hard, dreary lump of lead."

Jack found himself snared by the story, listening with bated breath. Fable watched him closely, smiling and from time to time she would direct her attention to Lydia. The child was no match for her own talents, but she was getting there. Soon, the story was over, and the audience disbursed. At last, the two spirits approached.

Lydia saw Fable first, flying to her, arms open. "Aunty Gemma!"

Frost smirked at the name, but then gaped when he looked upon Fable. Her hair was woven with strands of greys and white, it drifted across her shoulders, no longer captive in the bun. Her eyes harbored crow's feet, hands a shade more frail and cut up that normal. Fable could pass for a woman in her late forties.

She stroked Lydia's wild hair, going down to her level. "Lydia, I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Looking over her shoulder, she nodded to Jack, who took this as his cue. He stepped forward, smiling at the look of awe that crossed Lydia's face. "Jack Frost"

His name came out at a whisper, and then it came next as a squeal of delight "Jack Frost!"

Lydia ran for him, wrapping her arms around the spirit, giggling happily. She then pulled away, looking up into Jack's face, suddenly confused. "I thought you said he had red eyes and was old and decrepit?"

Fable flushed. "Let's just say I was expressing my freedom as an artist, eh sprite?"

That seemed to be enough of an excuse for Lydia; she laughed and pulled away, jumping up and down happily. "I knew you were real! I knew it! I knew you weren't gross, I knew you were young and handsome!"

Jack glanced up at Fable, who was chuckling and flushing at the same time. It made for an interesting combination. "Wouldn't tell him that love, it makes him insufferable, I can't afford another ego boost."

Lydia looked between the pair, and gasped, giggling excitedly. "Are you two dating?!"

The expression of Fable's face was more than priceless, better than the look she bore when Jack was shooting her down Bunny's tunnel. It took a while for the spirit to regain her composure and when she did, she provided a nervous laugh. "Really sprite, look at me, I'm ancient, he's only a boy, an annoying one at that. Where would you get that idea anyway?"

Lydia pouted. "He wouldn't care about that! He's over 300 years old, you told me so!"

Fable stared. "He's young at heart, I'm an old soul."

The girl continued to pout, Jack chuckled. "Hey, you wanna see a trick?"

She nodded excitedly, Frost picked her up gently and the pair shot into the sky. Fable watched them from below. Hearing a cough, she looked across the clearing to find the four remaining Guardians. "Sorry for leaving you behind."

Bunny hopped over looking up into the skies. Jack and Lydia could be easily spotted flitting just over the tree canopy. "Frostbite, apologize?"

Fable crossed her arms, joining the rabbit in the middle of the clearing, her feet barely making an impact on the frost that Jack had left behind. "Yeah, I didn't need it though, not in his nature to be cruel through the use of words."

The Easter Bunny chuckled. "Eh, I could argue with ya on that."

He looked her over. "So, this is how the lil ankle biter see's ya?"

Her attention went to the ground. "Lydia's mother is very focused on her career. I met the child after she had lost her father in a car accident. Ever since then, she and her mother have gone through a sort of break. Lydia was already a bully victim, but she had her mother and father to turn to for comfort. She does have her brother, but he can't take the place of an adult, or a parent for that matter. After the accident, she had nowhere to turn. So, naturally when she found me, I took on the image of a sort of motherly figure, someone she could talk to."

Author's Note: Seriously, I should be working on that Poetry project since the due date has been pushed to this coming Tuesday at 5pm, as opposed to the original due date on Monday at 4pm...But, I have till Tuesday. Anyway, here is the next chapter to Curiouser and Curiouser, which is currently on it 90th review. That's the most reviews I've got for one story, well done all of you readers and reviewers. We have broken a personal record of mine, pat yourself on the back, have a drink, eat some candy in celebration... I will just make myself a Grasshopper or a White Russian.

So, school is going well, I nearly killed a girl in a discussion class of mine. According to her, she is more intelligent than I am when it comes to the analysis of film that she has yet to see, simply because I'm an English Major (where analysis of poetry, literature, critical essays and just about any form of writing is our bread and butter) and she is a Film Studies Major, where analysis is not the main point of the Major. Yeah, I'm just gonna make up a word and say she is being "Majorist" or something along those lines. Personally, for her sake, I hope that she is just being socially inept and wont say anything like that again. Moral of the story here, my readers, is that you shouldn't judge a person based on their Major in College. It does not make them any less or more intelligent than you, and voice that sort of thinking is incredibly hurtful, not just to the person you say that to, but also for you. More on the physical side than the mental.

So, I hope all of you are enjoying this story, because I am having a lot of fun writing. Also, I am currently working on a sort of silent (dialouge wise) animation project with a friend of mine. In the future, the chapters might become fewer because I am writing a story for the animation and possibly helping the friend with some stuff (she's more the artist when it comes to drawing and technology stuff, I just write.)

Oh, and out of curiosity, I'd like to know what country you guys are reading from. If you review or anything. Please tell me, not that I'm a stalker. It's just that I love to learn about other countries seeing that I have yet to set foot out of the U.S.A. and probably wont unless I take UO up on that study abroad program in Cambridge.

Anyway, read, review, alert, favorite, all that jazz.