"I'm telling you, I don't know what happened, Tink!" Fawn exclaimed as she closed the last corral stall and turned to face her best friend. "I don't know how the mice got out! All the doors were shut, there are no signs of knawing on the wood, and nobody let them out! I just can't figure out what could have happened!"

"Hmmm," Tink hummed, rubbing Cheese's nose as the mouse watched them with wide eyes. He was much calmer now that his little joyride through the meadow had been cut short. He even looked...dare she say it...apologetic. "And you're sure none of the new Animal-talents just accidentally slipped up and hit the latch or something?"

"No way!" Fawn exclaimed. "No animal-talent would be so blatantly careless!"

"Well, I don't see any other alternatives," Tink pointed out. "Unless you are suggesting sabotage."

"What?" Fawn's eyes widened. "Oh, no, no, no!" she yelped, waving her hands in front of her face urgently. "No, I'm sure it was just an accident!"

What she was trying to say was, "We don't need any more of your overthinkingbrain seeing trouble when there isn't any." but she was too polite to word it that way. Tink sighed, running a hand on the fence post surrounding the mice corral thoughtfully. Behind her, the rest of Cheese's relatives went scurrying off to chase a butterfly, their previous panic forgotten in an instant at the sight of the colorful wings.

I wonder what caused them to stampede in the first place, Tink pondered. There were no Sprinting Thistles. The fast-flying talents had already rounded them up before the game began. And the mice aren't that easily startled.

"The mice are fine, Tink," Fawn assured her. "I promise. Now come on," she added, patting the tinker on the back and smiling gently. "We've got preparations to make for the Festival, do we not?"

"Yeah," Tink agreed with a nod, stepping away from Cheese who squeaked before turning and darting off to join his siblings. "We do. But-"

"Ah! Ah!" Fawn interjected, cutting her off before she could climb down the rabbit-hole of questions just waiting to be unearthed. "No, ma'am! Uh-uh! We are not going to talk about this right now! Right now, you and I are going to mosey down to Springtime Square and we're going to finish the decorations and get ready to go see Lizzie."

"We don't go until the mainland until summer, Fawn," Tink reminded her with a smirk. She saw what the animal-talent was trying to do, however, and the brunette's charades were just a hasty attempt at a cover-up for what both fairies were undoubtedly thinking.

"Yes," Fawn grinned, trying to deflect the uncertainly in the air. "But it's never too early to start preparing, right?"

Her deflection passed right over the blond's head.

"I see what's going on here!" Tink exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. "You're trying to distract me, aren't you? You think I'm right and you just don't want to say it!"

"I am not!" Fawn protested, swatting her hand away. "Don't be ridiculous! This wasn't sabotage! No fairy would do this on purpose! Now, come on. Shut off that overthinking head of yours for just a second and come help me decorate! By the sound of things, it seems like you could use the fresh air." She chuckled and started into the air.

Tink stood there for a moment, still processing what the girl had said. And then it clicked. "Hey, I get plenty of fresh air, thank you! Wait...why would you think that?" she asked, taking off after her.

"Oh, I don't know," Fawn answered with a nonchalant shrug. "You've just seemed a little off the past few days. Not off off, like you're about to go all...I don't know...bananas, on us. But off as in, you've been unusually quiet. And when Tinkerbell is quiet, fairies tend to notice."

Tink frowned. "I'm not sure how to take that."

"Tinkerbell," Fawn groaned, sounding increasingly agitated with the girl. "I think you're reading way too much into this! Accidents happen! And maybe it wasn't the animal-talents! Maybe a stray breeze blew through and knocked the latch loose! There's no reason to plunge off the deep end yet!"

"Yet!" Tink repeated loudly.

"Or ever!" Fawn hastily corrected. "There's no need to go jumping at your own shadow!"

"But what if-"

"No," Fawn interrupted.

"But what-"

"Tink, no."

The tinker-talent huffed, blowing a clump of hair out of her eyes as she scowled at the brunette. "But what if I'm right?" she demanded. "What if something is going on and I tried to tell you but you didn't listen and something bad happens because of it?"

"Like what?" Fawn asked. "Another Shade?" Tink winced and the girl sighed. "Look," she went on, turning and coming back to wrap her arms around her friend in a gentle hug. "I know what happened was...bad...and I understand you wanting to be extra cautious now, but I promise you; there's no reason to be concerned. If I thought that there was even the slightest chance of foul play, I'd tell you. But there is absolutely, positively, nothing to be concerned about! Okay?"

"Okay," Tink agreed reluctantly as Fawn pulled away and gave her a small smile. "I trust you, Fawn, but I still say something isn't right."

"I'll be sure to double-check the locks before I leave for the night," Fawn promised. They were flying over the border to spring now and Tink could once again see the distant glow of the Pixie dust tree in the distance. They darted over the Nook and she spared it just a brief glance, her mind already swirling to her next project as the Springtime Square came into view, the lanterns created by the light-talents the first thing she spotted over the rolling hills. Even in the broad daylight, they still shone brightly, illuminating the ravine with a dominant silver and gold glow. And this was only the beginning of what was to come. Each talent would get an equal contribution to the festival, getting a chance to show off their skills, similar to the winter festival, a tradition they had founded alongside the winter fairies, only showcasing the very best of spring in all of its splendid glory.

Tink hated spring.

Like, she really hated spring.

Summer was much more her swing. No swampy, muddy dirt to trample through. No impromptu rainstorms grounding progress and making it virtually impossible to do anything. Why couldn't every season be like that? Nice, warm, and actually enjoyable? Maybe she could sign a petition or something. Get everyone to see it from her perspective.

Nah, too much work. Better to leave it how it was and let the humans have their weird fascination with cold and wet. Besides, it would put the other talents out of work and that just meant more bored fairies mulling about the workshop without anything to do, annoying her and interrupting her work.

Really not worth it.

"You've got that face again."

Tink blinked. "What face is that?"

"That one you keep telling me I make when something's on my mind. And not the good one."

"I never said you make a face."

"You most certainly did. Now come on. What is it?"

Tink sighed. "You ever get the feeling that something isn't right, but no matter how hard you try to figure it out, nothing you do can decipher what that feeling is?"

Fawn looked at her. "No..." she said slowly. "Why?"

"No reason. Never mind." Tink waved it off. "I'm probably just saying things because I'm tired."

"Have you not been sleeping well?"

Tink shook her head.

"For how long?"

Ever since that day, Tink replied to herself. And who would be able to sleep after something like that? She didn't say anything aloud to Fawn, but then again, she didn't have to. Her face-whatever Fawn meant by that--did it for her.

The animal-talent sighed. "And I'm guessing you haven't talked to anybody about it? No, you haven't," she instantly corrected herself. "Because it's you and the best person to talk to is the one causing the nightmares in the first place, am I right?"

"Dead on as usual," Tink confirmed reluctantly as they landed in the heart of the square and Fawn swung her satchel from her shoulders, dropping her load onto a small log. "So, what's your solid piece of advice for the day? I know you have one just welling up inside of you to give me. So just lay it on me."

"Well, first off, you can start by helping me unravel these banisters for the rabbit racetrack." Fawn tossed her a roll of orange and white pennants. "They hang from those trees just to your left. String those the best you can, and from there, we can talk about this whole avoiding-your-first-friend thing."

"Terrific," Tink sighed.

"Oh, it's not going to be that bad," Fawn chastised. "Have I ever told you off for anything before?"

"Repeatedly," Tink countered. "Almost consistently. It's becoming a regular occurrence, actually."

"Eh, okay, that's pretty fair, now that you mention it. I'll take it."

Tink rolled her eyes and moved toward the first tree, the banners trailing behind her like a kite. "Go ahead," she said. "I know I can't stop you anyway."

"Good to know you've learned something from me after all this time," Fawn chuckled, copying her movements toward a nearby bush. "Even if...I'm not sure it's what I would have chosen...but no matter, at least it's something. And it's a good place to start. So," she went on. "I realize we haven't really talked about it since that day. And that might have been a mistake on all of our parts. But that's going to change now. You need someone to confide in. Confide in me."

Tink smirked. "Is this your way of bonding? I think I'd rather take warm tea and cookies. Is that an option?"

"No," Fawn answered sharply. "This talk has been long overdue and it's about time somebody took responsibility and asked you how you were dealing."

"I'm fine, Fawn."

"But I don't think you are."

"Well, okay, what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, honestly. What do you say to someone who has seen what we have? Shade was...well, he wasn't like anything anyone has ever seen. And then Bobble-"

"I really don't want to talk about this, Fawn."

"I know," the girl responded. "But I think you need to hear it. You're scared and that's okay. No one expects you to go without some concerns-or a lot of questions. This wasn't something any of us could have seen coming. Not even Bobble. You know he didn't want to lie to you, don't you? That's not the kind of fairy he is."

"Yeah," Tink muttered as she moved on to the next tree. "That's what I thought once too."

"He's your guildmate, Tink," Fawn reminded her. "I think you'd know him better than any of us. Does he seem like the kind of sparrowman who would go around just stabbing fairies in the back for the amusement of it? Kind of a Vidia move if you ask me."

Tink snorted.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Fawn decided. "And you know why that is?"

"Because he was perplexingly good at deception?"

"No," Fawn explained. "Because he's not a bad guy! He genuinely cares about you! The rest of us have seen that! What are you still having trouble understanding?"

"I want to understand why," Tink exclaimed. "Why keep it a secret for so long? Why not tell us from the start? We could have helped! I could have helped! Why didn't he trust me enough to-"

"But he did trust you, Tink!" Fawn interrupted. "He tried to tell you! Don't you remember? By the Second Star, I was there the first time! Granted, the attempt could have used some work, but that's not the point! The point is, he really did try to tell you. But you heard what Queen Clarion said. The Protectors were supposed to be a secret. He couldn't tell anyone, even if he wanted to. And you know he did."

"So, if it was such a big secret, why did he want to tell me all of a sudden?" Tink challenged. "What changed his mind so much that, after all this time, he would finally decide to say something?"

"Guilt can be a heavy burden," Fawn answered. "Sometimes it can become too much to bear. Lying to someone you care about can hurt. It can hurt both you and the fairy you keep secrets from. Everybody has a breaking point. Maybe he'd just reached his."

"Tink? Wait! There's something I need to tell you!"

Yes, he'd tried to tell her and she'd blown him off, her mind set solely on solving her own mystery, not knowing that the answer to all of her questions was standing there, quivering anxiously, right before her very eyes. And she shouldn't have been surprised that it was him. She really shouldn't have been. It had all made sense. The disappearing, the way he'd turned up in winter at just the right moment, the shifty way he dodged inquiries. Hindsight was twenty-twenty and now she wondered how she hadn't seen it all before.

"I guess there's really only one question that you need to answer for yourself."

Tink draped the last of the banisters. "What's that?"

"Are you willing to forgive him for this? Because that's the only way you're ever going to feel better. Forgiving and giving him a chance to earn back your trust. If you aren't ready to do that, then nothing else you try to say to convince yourself or anyone else is going to mean a thing. This is between you and yourself, and ultimately, you and Bobble."

"You're right," Tink sighed, dropping her gaze from the decorations and twisting back toward Fawn once again. "I don't want this thing between us to continue dragging out anymore. We've learned our lessons. Both of us. I can't be angry with him anymore. Not when he was trying to do what he thought was the right thing. I don't...like what he did, but I know why he did it."

"See?" Fawn said. "Doesn't that make you feel so much better now that you've gotten that off your chest?"

"Yeah...actually, it does."

"That's the spirit! Now, come on," the animal-talent went on, playfully tossing her another spool of decorations. "Help me get these signs up! We have two weeks until the festival and there's still so much to do!"

A tremendous mountain of pots and pans crashed down on the table before him and he startled awake, leaping backward off his mushroom stool and landing awkwardly on the ground a few feet away. "Clank!" he huffed, glaring at his best friend as he tried to regain his posture. "Watch it, would ye!"

"Sorry, Bobble!" Clank responded, poking his head out from behind the pile. "Er...everything okay? You seem kinda snappy today."

"Aye, fine," the redhead muttered, slowly approaching the table and picking out one of the smaller dishes to straighten. When Clank didn't move, Bobble sighed and glanced up at him. "Clanky, I'm fine," he repeated firmly. "There's just a lot of work to be done yet. That's all."

The sparrowman didn't look like he believed him, but clearly decided it was better not to argue. At least for now. Bobble could just feel the questions threatening to spill over and, honestly, that was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now. Miss Bell was still mad at him, even after numerous attempts of apologizing, and he didn't know what else he could do to convince her that he really was sorry. The others had seemed to understand and were treating him just like they always had. But the cold shoulder from Tink hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced before. Three times worse than getting hit with a stray hammer or loose cart wheel and a thousand times more painful than a rocket blast. And the way she'd looked at him, with hurt and anger, that tore him apart. He'd never wanted anything to happen to her, but he'd wanted to lie to her even less. There were times he wondered if things might have been different if she hadn't found him out when she did. Could things have been different if he had told her from the very start? Maybe she could have found a way to better protect herself if she'd known what she was up against.

But no, what had happened to her was entirely his fault. He knew that and he never tried to shift the blame. He didn't understand everything, however. For a while, she'd seemed fine with it. She hadn't appeared bothered by his montage of lies, the web of deceit he had spun over the years. But then something changed. He had felt it the moment her mood had shifted in his presence like she was doing everything in her power to get away from him. He hated that feeling. He hated everything to do with it.

"You look like you could use a break!" Clank offered, glancing over at the pan that Bobble had been absentmindedly hammering away at for the last minute with no clear intent. "Why don't we leave these here and go see what the girls are up to? I hear Sil's talent is working with the tadpoles today!"

Silvermist, huh? Bobble smirked knowingly. "Good idea," he said, pushing the pot away and laying his head in his hands. "Go on and see the lass. I'll wait back here fer now."

Clank sighed, standing now and moving over to place a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "'ave you talked to 'er?"

"Silvermist?" Bobble lifted his gaze with a frown. "What do I need to speak to her fer?"

"Not Sil! Miss Bell!" Clank exclaimed. "The two of you 'ave been avoiding each other like you can't stand the sight of one another!"

"Oh, not ye too..." Bobble moaned. "Just leave me, Clank." He buried his face again and tried to shoo the tinker away with a weak wave. "Let me wallow in my misery alone in peace."

Clank patted his back comfortingly. "It's not as bad as you're thinking!" he tried to assure him. "Tink can't be mad at you forever!"

"Oh, I think she can. She's Tink. Ye know how she is about lettin' go of grudges. If she speaks to me in the next fifty years, it will be a miracle."

"Why don't you try talking to 'er?" Clank suggested. "Maybe the two of you can work it all out. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"It's not likely, but thanks for the advice."

"I think you should come with me. Get out of the workshop for a while and clear your 'ead."

"No, thanks, Clank."

"It might be good for you! Come on! Let's go spend some time with the girls!" Clank begged. "You can't hide in the Nook forever!"

"Well, at least here no one can be disappointed in me!" Bobble threw his arms out in front of him and fully collapsed against the table, putting every effort into the dramatics in the hopes that Clank would see his attempts as a lost cause and let him be alone.

Clank never was very good with social cues.

"Oh, come on!" he exclaimed loudly, earning a wince from the smaller sparrowman. "Tink doesn't 'ate you! No one in the Hollow 'ates you! They're just all concerned that something is going on with you because you won't talk to 'em! Fawn asked me to-"

"Fawn asked ye to convince me to leave the Nook," Bobble finished, already knowing what he was going to say. "Tell her I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. I'd just prefer to be left alone right now. At least until I can figure out how to apologize to Tink."

"You know," Clank said, finally deciding to take the tinker up on his request and slowly starting away from the table. "Some day, the two of you are gonna 'ave to sort this all out. I can't lose both o' my best friends."

And with that, he left Bobble sitting in the deserted Nook.

No one saw the way the tinker wilted at those words and no one was there to witness the scream of anguish or the crash of scattered tools and an upended table that followed because he had gotten his greatest wish.

He was all alone.

Completely and utterly alone.