Mean Seasons 22 Broken Spirit 3
Sandy was furious.
He had often seen Jack playijg and messing around in the woods of Burgess, flying, flipping and having a blast, laughing in barely controlled joy at being one with the Wind and sky, and cold.
The boy was a free spirit in every sense of the word. He did what he pleased, when he pleased and even now, after becoming a Guardian, Jack Frost was something of a thrill-seeking wind dancer. He always made it a point to say hi to the Sandman when he could, and often frolicked along the strands of Dreamsand, his laugh igniting many a spark that flooded his eyes.
But the figure on the bed had no spark, had no laughter...had no dreams. It was as if the real spirit had left his body behind so he could once again race with the wind. Bunny had been right. Jack Frost looked dead. Deprived of his core. Empty. Only one thing, Sanderson knew, could do this to Jack.
The child had been robbed of the freedom he loved for five days. That was the only explanation. It wasn't just the collar that had sucked the boy dry, it was being forced to stay grounded while the Wind begged him for a jaunt. As the elements themselves called to him, the sprite had to stay chained, unable to answer the pull of his very core to run, to fly...to chase snowflakes and frolic until he fell into a snowdrift.
Sandy pounded his fist in his hand. He had once made a solemn vow that if anything or anyone stripped the boy of his freedom, they would answer to him.
Taking no notice of the others, Sandman went in search of the only two spirits he knew actually dreamed about killing Jack Frost, his glare one to fear.
When he found the two, he was incenced to see them pacing around Jack's tree, as if...oh they were...the man swooped down lower to listen a bit before he would severely take down the two.
"I don't believe this! He got away?!" Summer roared nit believing.
"No, someone took him. The collar isn't here." Spring reported "But the chain is still around the tree. Maybe this is a good thing."
"A GOOD THING?! I wanted to see him, Spring! I wanted him to see me! So he would know who it was who brought him to his knees!"
Sandy snapped a whip in her face, sending her flying
"Brought him to his knees?!" he raged, snapping the whips again and again, then grabbing Summer by the collar "You crushed his spirit! You took his freedom! You will REGRET THAT!" He punched her hard, sending her up in the air with his whip and yanked her down hard. Several times.
Spring had never seen the Sandman so angry. She was not prou=d to witness his rage. His anger hurt, and although she too had helped bring Jack Frost to his breaking point, the woman hoped Sanderson realized that she was not thrilled with the method her sister used.
Her wish was granted, as Sandy just glared at her as if to say, Scram, his whips slicing her as she made her retreat.
Unfortunately, the sisters could not even find a rock to hide behind.
"Hello Ladies. I believe I gave you instructions against harming Frost in this way. But I suppose you need reminding. Happy Nightmares!"