#rivervale_lodge

"I don't like.. like.. just lurking around and being in the way..."

"I'd rather be useful. I'm gonna be here, guarding the childlings."

"You are incredibly useful. But I do sometimes think you miss out on your share of the fun. you know all that stuff you said about... just being yourself is okay, and not a fuck up? It applies to you too, you know? Even if you you slip, you're still one of us. even my mother isn't perfect. And she, as Uncle Vali will tell you, flosses with lightning and uses thunder for mouthwash"

"Chief is... pretty intimidating."

"Like... yeah."

"I made track."

"Hey! that's grand. Shotput for start right?"

She nods. "And javelin, and hammer."

"Gonzales - shit, you shoulda seen her! She's doing pole vault. She's short, but she's light and fearless..."

"Shit... Javelins are actually still in style with some changelings..." then "Ohh my god, GOnzalez would be so GOOD at pole vault, she's strong but weighs next to nothin..up and OVER"

"She did not appreciate my mexican jumping bean jokes."

A snerk "Yeaaah that could get you in trouble"

"S'fine. She got in some caveman digs. We're even. And MAY! So fast! So she's more track than field, but we're still together..."

"Oh snot. I forgot to try out for track myself" A sigh "Oh well. Gymanstics was fun. "

"Man... well, softball on friday? I'm gonna try both."

"Softball? Mmm.. "

"Well, it's like baseball..."

"Yeah. I know, but I've never played baseball either"

"But i do know that the Mets are the greatest team that ever were or will be"

"I've thrown the ball some, and can hit okay."

"But, yeah - not that much experience."

"Mets are where?"

"New York Mets. " She says

"Like, aren't the Yankees the best?"

"Oh you poor poor girl, you are the unknowing victim of a cruel revisionist history, a conspiraital effort to rewrite the archives of baseball." A tut, then a grin "Okay, Zara's nuts about the Mets, but she's a friend so I jumped on the band wagon. Apparently team loyalty is VERY Serious business."

"Fair enough."

"Zara is the sluagh, right? With the weird hair?"

"well, white hair, not sure if it's any weirder than Symon's... have you seen him in a stiff wind?"

A snort.

"Just saying... " she says with a smile "course, right now" She touches her head scarf "I can't mock anyone's hair."

"You could do, like, a whole undercut... maybe dye it pink? Make it punk rock and just own it."

"Dye my hair pink? Dad would have a COW, breached birth, by the horns"

A grin. "You wanna? We could go get some manic panic and bleach and stuff. I've dyed hair before."

"Could you dye it blue?" Curious

A shrug. "Sure. Why not?"

"I can't believe I'm doing this... yeah, let's do this. What am I going to do? Make it worse? "

"Exactly! You can't!"

"This is two I owe you. Let's get the hair first. The confusion might make Bancroft more open to my apology for being an ass to him. I need an edge. All is fair in love and war they say. "

"This'll be fun! Let's go!"

And off Siv goes with her, trusting her cousin with her head.

------later---------

Brekke is outside, sitting near the edge of the practice ring, but not fighting. Instead, she is working on carving a rough shape into a large log, about six feet long. The bark has been stripped, and curves and angles are beginning to take shape.

Footsteps, soft.

Footsteps that she might recognize...?

Yes. Indeed.

"Hey, mom, how goes?" Siv says

"Siv. It goes well. I have begun work for Brandr, come look."

She doesn't look up until Siv gets closer.

She closes and bends down to look "oh, it's forming up."

Brekke starts to respond, but then doesn't. A very still moment. "Siv...your hair...."