Rhonwen's first two months at the orphanage was -In short term- uneventful besides the fact that she was pretty sure Riddle had started a little rivalry in his head between them as soon as he saw her stand up with help of the crib. Martha had yet to bring back the bunny that Rhonwen found herself so fond of and she had been readying herself for a ruckus before a shift caught her eye. The boy, copying her movements, succeeded in doing the same as she and the challenging look that shouldn't have even been possible (because what kind of kid already knew what competition was, Rhonwen thought to herself uncomfortably as she cemented the fact that Tom Riddle was a little fucking devil into her brain) on his face was there. Another matron, who's name she found out was Alice, had gasped when she entered the room and had given them both a smile of encouragement as well as congratulations as she picked them up (Riddle first, that little bastard) and placed them outside the crib onto the carpet that surrounded them in stuffed animals and toys that looked worn but still usable.
She wondered how many kids had gone through these toys, eyeing the missing spots of color where the paint was chipping. Was that paint safe? Regardless, the colors were nicer to look at than the wall. In fact, the toy weren't so bad for what she had given them credit for. For being so weathered down and shabby, this Orphanage still had some life left. She wondered to herself briefly on why Tom had been so unhappy here before remembering that this was only her third week.
The two children stayed at different ends of the carpet, only glancing at each other once or twice before playing with their respected toys, Rhonwen's toy being the large stuffed bunny that she had found sitting in a corner. It was almost bigger than her and patches of fur were being worn away by the day yet she still clung to it. Riddle had found entertainment in a toy train. 1920 toys weren't as developed as they were in the future obviously and Rhonwen felt herself wishing immensely for a talking Elmo or play laptop because no matter how childish those toys were, this stuffed bunny was boring. Still, trying to make the best of the situation, Rhonwen laid her head on the bunny's shoulders and played with its stuffed paw, pretending that she was slow dancing with it. Daydreams were going to be the center of her entertainment, the girl concluded.
This time was different than their usual play time however because Riddle had rolled his particularly heavy metal train at the little girl's leg and as soon as it made contact with her knee she yelped. The young dark lord was already a little sadistic fuck. The train tipped over as it rammed itself into the chubby leg and she turned to stare distastefully at the stoic brat on the other side.
Taking the small cushion block that lay next to her, she tossed it at his head, watching it make contact with his forehead as he did a double take before he slowly turned back to meet her gleaming eye. If Riddle wanted to play hard ball, Rhonwen would play hardball. Mentally, she took note that the hardball wouldn't be particularly very hard nor very ball like but the thought still counted.
Hugging the bunny closer, she inspected his face and watched as he teared up before feeling that stupid heavy feeling settle in her stomach. Shit. It had not actually occurred to her that Riddle was still a baby. He hadn't developed his totally diabolical planning skills yet. The train could've been a fluke and here she was throwing things at his face. Does this make her a bully? Would his villain origin start from simple playground scuffles? With a hesitant look, Rhonwen pushed the train back towards Riddle and watched as his face lost the sad pout and turned back once more into a concentrated study. Once again he turned back to his toy but she felt as if she passed a rite of passage.
Okay...
She guessed the universal "Don't snitch" was respected here as well.
This caused her to believe that maybe, just maybe Riddle wasn't so bad. maybe he tolerated her now enough to reinstate her into his little baby gang. Then she woke up in the middle of the night freezing and realized that Riddle was a little bastard and he'd never like her. Tightly scrunched in his hands and wrapped around his body was the blanket they had for their crib. She kicked him in the leg before returning back to sleep.