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 Posted: Thu Nov 22, 2007 4:16 pm
In which Dr. Montserrat Hector finds a most peculiar little leaf perched precariously in the cage of her Eastern Indigo snake.
It was a night without fuss, and all through the house, not a creature was slithering. Not even a new baby Eastern Indigo snake. Dr. Montserrat Hector was usually fast asleep in her humble bedroom at this hour, so she would be up at five to feed a couple of the snakes and begin her day's regiment.
Tonight, however, was a very special night indeed. Her Eastern Indigo snake, Iaga, had mated successfully with a close friend's Eastern Indigo and it resulted in a pregnant snake. Tonight, she would be laying her eggs. It was a sight Dr. Monty refused to miss. So much so that she had a video camera set up, for future reference.
So enthused by this birthing, Monty hadn't noticed until the eggs were all laid and the exhausted Momma snake was curled around them that something was amiss. Monty had carefully selected the setting of Iaga's tank, and what stood out among the generally dark colored leaves was a vibrant green one.
"Hello..." She said quietly, reaching into the tank without much fear for Iaga attacking her and plucking the leaf off of it's branch. It wasn't plucking, not really, because once Monty had the leaf in her hands she realized it wasn't attached to anything. "Now where did you come from?" She asked to no one in particular, her mouth quirking into a little grin.
Monty glanced around into each tank, which were many, let's be honest. But of all the leaves in those many tanks, none of them seemed to be quite the green that this little leaf was. "How odd," Monty mused to herself, frowning a little. She looked at the leaf again, and shrugged. "I'll look some more in the morning."
It was two-thirty in the morning, a leaf could wait until a godly hour. She wandered over to her desk, and opened up a page of her journal, setting the leaf inside. "This'll probably hurt, but it's a nice way to assure you don't wander away, now isn't it?" With that, Monty carefully closed her journal, and sighed a little.
Whatever it was, maybe it'd grow into a nice plant for her to move into one of the snake tanks. Yawning, the brunette reptile-obsessed woman wandered up to her bedroom for some well deserved slumber.
385 words, 406 with title.
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Posted: Fri Nov 23, 2007 12:16 pm
In which Dr. Monty observes the unique leaf, and records it in her journal of Snakes. A very unusual place for observations about a leaf, don't you think?
Dr. Monty woke up that morning feeling oddly curious. It wasn't all that unusual for Monty to be curious when she woke up, her mind never paused, not even in sleep. But this was a different curiosity, not one surrounding her reptilian friends and her beautiful Iaga and her babies. This curiosity revolved around a peculiar little leaf found in a precarious place and was now nesting in her journal.
So she thought.
After following her physical-well being regiment, which included showering and clean clothes and perhaps a quick breakfast, she followed her feet to the large living/dining room that had been combined to form her very large laboratory.
Monty took the time, as she often did, to greet her snakes in the morning and give a couple unfortunate mice to their fortunate snakes. Then she wandered past the cages and to her desk, where her journal which held the leaf should've been laid closed and waiting.
However. It wasn't. And the leaf in question had blown away from her journal and under the heat of her desk lamp. "Oh, very funny. Ha ha. It is, to laugh." Monty recited dryly, picking up the leaf carefully. "I put you in there for protection, you know."
Snorting a little, Monty kept the little leaf grasped by it's stem between her left forefinger and thumb, and picked up her pencil with her right hand. She slid into her desk chair, and flipped her journal open to the nearest page. FINALLY, the entry! Iaga laid her clutch the other night. Four beautiful gleaming eggs. A very small clutch for an Eastern Indigo, but she's healthy and the eggs seem fine, so I'm not entirely worried. It was her first, after all.
I found a most peculiar leaf stuck in the branches in Iaga's cage. Normally I wouldn't be concerned, but this leaf doesn't match any of my foliage in any of the other tanks, either. It seems far more vibrant and lively than the leaves in my other tanks.
I set it in my journal, and I have a strange suspicion that when I came down to find it open, the leaf had done it. And moved herself into the warmth of my sunlamp. What am I supposed to do with a leaf?
Perhaps I'll put it in a glass of water near my lamp. With a cover, of course... Just to be safe.
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Posted: Sat Nov 24, 2007 2:04 pm
In Which Dr. Monty writes some more about the leaf, which has thus been put into a glass of water, and contemplates the purpose of a Journal of Snakes with leaf-related entries inside.
Monty Hector never paid much attention to the whereabouts of certain creatures. For instance, when her boa constricter, Betty, had found her way into Monty's shower five minutes prior to Monty waking up, and was discovered there, Monty barely batted an eye. She simply clicked her tongue at the snake, and carted her back down to her cage.
It wasn't at all unusual in this respect for Monty to share her breakfast with a tortoise who decided to roam his way into her kitchen (in all fairness, Freddy the Tortoise did love his bananas.) as was the scene today. But not only was she sharing her breakfast with Freddy. Off to the side, a little distance away so she wouldn't drink from the glass, was a simple tall glass of water.
What made this glass peculiar was the object within the glass: A vibrant little leaf. It seemed to be floating suspended in the water, leaning towards the side of the room where more light was being drawn in than towards the shade. Monty glanced over at her leaf and smiled a little, finishing her cereal and letting Freddy have the rest of her banana.
"Let's go, little leaf." She said, picking up the glass and walking with it into her laboratory. Today she had to extract one of Iaga's eggs and check on it, to determine when they'd hatch. That was only Numero Uno on her list of things to do. But first, she wanted to write a couple more observations about the little leaf in her Journal of Snakes. (Really, she thought that she ought to get a Journal of Leaf for the leaf specifically, since it was disrupting her research by writing about leaves in her Snakes Journal. But that was for another time.)
Rounding her desk, Monty set the glass down and looked around quietly, taking in all of the creatures surrounding her. To anyone else, it might be creepy, borderline horrifying to have forty+ snakes in one room, all in cages that could very easily be left open if by some unseen habit, weren't closed properly. But Monty found it was most comfortable to leave a cage door or two open. It never left her feeling lonely in her home, because wherever she was, there might be a fugitive snake to accompany her.
Monty slid down into her computer chair and flipped open her journal, again contemplating the purpose of writing about a leaf in a journal for snakes. She flipped past the previous entry, and the doodles of Iaga's eggs and Iaga herself, and picked up a pen, looking over at the leaf again with a small smile. "You truly are a mystery." She mused, before glancing back down and beginning to jot down her entries.And now... Observations. I seriously contemplate both my sanity and the purpose of having a Journal of Snakes if, as I suspect, I will fill it with entries regarding this curious little leaf.
I have thus put it in a glass of water, and it seems to be thriving just fine in this little test tube of H2O. Still green, and it hasn't wilted yet which I find very odd, since most leaves do wilt, with or without water, after a couple day's time if not preserved properly.
It accompanies me to every room, so that I am most assuredly on top of my ongoing observations. It seems to thrive more under the light of my desk lamp and the sun than in the shady corner of my room where I had set it last night.
I'm curious as to just what this little leaf's purpose is. All leaves have a purpose when part of a tree, but what of the ones without a tree? Time will tell, I'm certain.
I really should buy a Journal of Leaves, even if I'll never use it again after this leaf has gone.
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Posted: Tue Nov 27, 2007 1:50 pm
Shouko surveyed the house before her. More leaves had finally arrived on the wind, all at once like when she had been born, and one had arrived here. She smiled and made her way up the front walk, eying the doorbell as she placed a flowerpot on the steps.
"I wonder what'll come of you," she told it, tucking a letter into the soil before making her exit.The Letter Dear Dr. Hector,
A little birdie told me you found one of our leaves recently. We're an organization called The Eden Project, and your leaf is a very special one. If you take good care of it, it will develop into a child. I've attached a flowerpot and special soil that will help it along its way. If you have any questions, give us a call or stop by our headquarters in Barton.
Good luck!
~Shouko
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Posted: Tue Nov 27, 2007 2:07 pm
In which Dr. Monty discovers a letter and a flowerpot? How very peculiar.
Dr. Montserrat Hector rarely ever checked the mail. Everything these days was done by internet, so she rarely received anything anyway. But on the occasional day, she would walk outside and to her turtle-shaped mailbox to check her mail. Getting mail was quite an excitement. Getting a very unique parcel however...
That was downright peculiar.
Monty had decided today that she would check her mail before going off into the city for more food, both for her and for her pets. After putting on her jacket and her boots, and tucking all of her snakes away and making sure Freddy had his banana, and the leaf was situated just so on her desk, she was ready to leave.
Digging out her key as she walked, Monty opened the door, and began to step out. By chance and chance alone, she glanced down, and her foot paused mid-air. There was a flowerpot there. "..." Blinking, she set her foot down, and crouched to pick up the flowerpot. There was a letter inside.
"Things just keep getting more peculiar." She mused, pulling the letter free and walking back inside. She set the flowerpot down, and began to read the letter. After reading it the first time, and a second and even a third time, Monty looked over at her little leaf, sitting so innocently on the desk.
"So that's your purpose, is it?" She grinned a little, and set the letter down. "Well, let's get you potted, hm?"
Monty grabbed the glass that the leaf was in, and carried it over, pulling the leaf out carefully. She made a little hole in the soil, and set the leaf down carefully, then covered it a little.
After this was done, she poured the water from the glass into the soil, and moved the soil into her kitchen, in direct path of sunlight. "There you are, little leaf." She smiled a little, and put the glass in the sink. "We'll just have to see what you grow into, huh?"
Grinning a little to herself, Monty left the house to go about her shopping. The little leaf in the soil of the flowerpot never left her mind.362 words, 375 with title.
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Posted: Sun Dec 02, 2007 12:10 pm
In Which Dr. Monty puts up a Christmas Tree and writes about it (and the leaf's progress) in her little Journal of Snakes.
"There's nothing quite like Christmas, is there, Bernard?" Montserrat hummed a Christmas carol under her breath as she carefully arranged the silver garland on the tree. The season of Christmas, though it was often way too cold for her liking, always filled her with a warm fuzzy nostalgic feeling.
And since being nostalgic often led to being depressed, she absolutely refused to be nostalgic, and instead, was incredibly happy. All the time. It was an amazing time of year!
After almost two hours, the huge pine tree was decorated with silver garland, and gold bells and any number of little glass balls and serpentine decorations. There was a ladder perched precariously beside it, and Monty was at the top of the ladder, carefully setting the golden snake statue on the treetop.
"It's much more fashionable and amusing than a silly old angel or star, don't you think?" She asked to the turtle sitting at the base of the tree. "Yeah, I thought so." Grinning, Monty slid down the ladder, and closed it up.
"I love Christmas." She nodded sagely, and started walking around to the back to put her ladder away. On the way, she passed through the kitchen, where The Leaf was sitting right now in its little pot. "Good evening, little leaf." She greeted, pulling the window closed behind the pot with a smile. "I'll be back in a second."
Anyone else really would think she were crazy for talking to so many things that couldn't talk back. Maybe she was. But she didn't think so. Loneliness made people do crazy things, and face it, Monty's only company in her house was a little Leaf in a pot and a giant turtle who followed her around like a dog.
She came back in from outside putting the ladder away, and picked up the potted leaf, smiling. "Come on, let's go see the tree." She carried the little pot to the living room where the tree was set up in the corner. She sat down in the rocking chair, and set her pot down next to her on the table. There, her Journal of Snakes was already waiting.
She picked up the journal, flipped it open, and began to write diligently.Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas, Journal of Snakes and Leaves.
I've finally put up our Christmas tree. A couple days late, but that never hurt anyone, now has it? It's beautiful, set up in the corner just like always, with silver garland and the Golden Snake that Robert sent me a few years ago.
The leaf, which is also why I'm writing in this Journal of Snakes and Leaves, hasn't shown any real progress to the plain eye. I'm sure it's sprouting roots, and I can't very well see that, now can I?
I imagine when the weather isn't horrible, I will likely go to the headquarters of this Eden Project to find out exactly what's going on. While it was helpful, and did inform me that this little leaf would become a child...
I'd like to know why me, of all people.
Hmm... I think... that I need eggnog. It's Christmas time, I doubt very highly that I will spend my first evening of Christmas-time jubilee writing in a silly book. Goodnight, Journal of Snakes and Leaves, and a Merry Christmas to you.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2008 11:12 am
In Which Monty Hector gets an Unusual Visit from an Old Friend.
Monty looked over at the potted leaf, sighing a little. She'd hoped for a child before Christmas, so it wouldn't be so... well... Lonely. Even with all her snakes and her little leaf, Christmas was as lonely and long as ever. No one had come to visit her (though she hadn't really expected anyone to), and she hadn't received any presents that she didn't buy herself. It was the same occurrence every year, because when it came down to it...
Monty had no family.
Her parents had moved far away when they found out Monty was married, taking that as a hint to retire with their earnings. She hadn't seen them in quite some time, and with postal prices on the rise and her being well into adulthood, she couldn't expect them to buy her presents every year, now could she? On her birthday, sure, but not for silly Holidays.
And she had only one brother, and he was hunting snakes in deep jungles now. Upsetting as it was, she hadn't seen him in quite some time either. Sighing a little, Monty rose from her dreary escape into daydreams, and picked up the pot, carrying it on her hip as she went up towards her bedroom. Perhaps tonight, New Year's Eve, was a night for some deep sleeping. She could always make a resolution in the morning.
Or, she would've.
But after climbing three steps, Monty heard a distinct knocking on her door. Frowning curiously, Monty came back downstairs, and set the pot down on the hall table. "Coming!" She said over her shoulder, walking to the door after being sure the pot wouldn't fall. Overtly cautious, perhaps, but...
She opened the door, and her entire body shook. Both from the cold, and from the guest who had been rapping on her door so insistently. The intruding visitor didn't give Monty the time to shoo him out before pushing into the room, scooping her up and spinning her.
"Monty!"
"Carl--"
"Merry Christmas, Monty!"
"Carl--!"
"And Happy New Year's!"
"CARL!"
"What, Monty?" The tall, older cousin of our lovely Miss Monty set her down, grinning. Monty swayed a little, clinging to Carl, and then leaned back, fuming, and swatted him. Carl yelped, laughing, and rubbed his nose. "Hello, Monty!" He greeted again, hugging her.
"Oh not this again." She flailed out of the hug, and rolled her eyes. "What're you doing here! You're supposed to be in--"
"Yeah, yeah." Carl waved her off, and looped an arm around Monty's shoulders, starting to walk into the living room where that big Christmas tree greeted them both. "I thought about you, an' I figured, no one else can get to you, but y'know what? I can! And no one should be alone on the Hols. I would'a been around for Christmas, but... eh. My ex-fiancee was still my fiancee that day."
"... Ex-fiancee? When were you engaged!?" Monty leaned back, arching an eyebrow at him. Her cousin just shrugged, and grinned at her. Monty rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Is that why you're here? You got kicked out and you need a place to stay?"
"Naaah. I'm staying with Ronnie." He snorted, and hugged her again. "I'm serious, Monty. I came to visit you 'cause of the hols. I even got you something!"
Monty blanched at that, and then rolled her eyes, hugging him. "Carl, you shouldn't have. I don't have anything for you." She muttered, suddenly guilty. Even if this was an unexpected visit, she should've had something on hand to give.
Carl didn't seem to mind, and really... he didn't. He just grinned. "Bein' here with you is more'n enough, Monty. I'll go get the box!" He kissed the top of her curly head, and went out to grab the box with her present in it. Monty watched after her cousin, and sighed, going and sitting down quietly, hugging herself. It was unusual for Carl to stop by like that.
What was more unusual was doing it without actually wanting something. She looked up when Carl came in with a small box, and grinned a little, getting up. "You really didn't have to do this, Carl."
"No... I kinda did." Carl said sheepishly, holding out the box and the card. "He asked me to ask you not to read the card until after I left, so... I'm gonna go, so you can read that and open your gift." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I love you, Monty."
"... Sure..." Monty said quietly, suspicious. She put the box and card down, and hugged her cousin, walking him out. Then she went back into the living room, and picked up the box and the card. She sat down on the couch, and put the box in her lap, opening the card first.
It didn't take long for Monty to connect that handwriting to her husband, and tears started to well up into her eyes as she read the letter. One tear fell, and then another, and another following it closely. She read the card a few times over, then closed it, shaking a little and still crying. She picked up the box, and opened it slowly, biting her cheek hard when she saw the necklace inside.
She got up, and closed the box, setting it down on the table. She took the card, and went back to the stairs, picking up the potted leaf and going upstairs. She put the pot down, and then set the card next to it. "Goodnight, Jake." She said quietly, looking at the card again and starting to cry. "I love you."
It didn't take long for Monty to fall asleep once she was laying down, and the card drifted open thanks to a breeze from the not-quite-closed window. Monty settled, feeling like more than a leaf was watching her now.
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 4:59 am
So the leaf missed Christmas. Missed it by a month. But it seems like it's doing something now. A layer of short, bristly fur has spread across it, along with a lovely caramel color, and it seems to be fighting against the confines of its pot. What's up?
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 10:52 am
In which... I think we can forgo a title for this one, don't you?
Monty had woken up that day without much thought to the leaf, at least until she'd finished her morning routine of showering and breakfast. Then, after coming upstairs to retrieve said leaf, she actually noticed that the leaf didn't look much like it had when she'd fallen asleep. Eyes wide, Monty crouched down beside the pot, reaching out with one hand to steady it.
"Oh what've I done to you?!" She fumed a little, trying to retrace her steps. She watered the leaf, made sure it was warmed properly and wasn't left alone... "I think I killed it." Her shoulders fell, and she grimaced, lifting the pot up carefully.
It had escaped her notice until she lifted the pot that the leaf was actually straining to get out of its pot. She frowned a little when she noticed this, and set the pot down on her bed. "What are you trying to do, little leaf?" She asked, frowning at the leaf curiously.
This was a very peculiar time indeed, Monty thought to herself, staring at the leaf straining to get out of its pot. "Is it too small for you now?" She mused, frowning a little. She didn't dare try to remove the leaf from its pot, out of fear for what might happen to the poor thing under such strain. "Come on, show me what you're trying to do..." She urged quietly.
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 11:02 am
Too small oh yeah the pot was far to small becuase not only was this leaf growing fur it was growing in general. It's next wriggle to be free was well timed as the dirt around it shifted and the now full hand sized leaf popped into the air and fluttered there for a second before dropping not gracefully , though it's descent was note quite a plummet, to the sheet covered mattress where it continued to wriggle and writhe and grow.
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 11:05 am
Monty's eyes were the size of dinner-plates at the leaf's massive growing, and instinct urged her forward to move the pot out of the way of the wriggling furry leaf. In the back of her mind, Monty was fairly sure what was happening to the leaf: it was growing, just like the note said it would. A little child.
But in the forefront of her mind, she was still panicking over whether or not the leaf was going to die or not. Seeing it grow gave her a little more easiness to be honest, and after moving the pot off her bed, she crouched down to watch the leaf growing.
"Come on, little one..." She urged, a little excited over the sudden growing. While it wasn't exactly sudden, it felt like it, and Monty was all too eager to accept the little kid into her life. ... Assuming it didn't just up and die. And given Monty's lack-of-green thumb in the past, she really couldn't help but worry for the leaf's safety.
What if it was dying?!
And Monty'd done so good about not freaking out, too...
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 11:09 am
Freedom ahh sweet freedom, it had been far too long since the soul trapped in this leaf had been free but now it could almost taste it. Another attempt to burst from it's encasement took the leaf under the covers. Yes when pulled back they would not reveal a strange large furry leaf but instead a strange dark skinned child. 
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Posted: Mon Jan 21, 2008 11:24 am
"Oh... oh my goodness..."
While anyone else would've probably been afraid of a sudden dark-haired child who looked like she could start some serious trouble, Monty was utterly amazed. And excited. "You look..." She reached out to the girl, and drew her hand back when Regina growled at her. "Regina, sweetheart..." The name hadn't been planned out, not really, and had sprung forth unbidden. But it fit.
And Regina seemed to know what that name meant, and who it was addressing. The toddler frowned a little, and sat up, shaking herself off like a true dog. She reached up and scratched behind one of her ears, the eye beneath that ear closing. Then she pulled her legs under her, and stared at Monty unflinchingly.
"... So that's your name, huh?" Monty grinned slowly, and sat on the bed. Regina eyed the woman, and turned to face her, sniffing curiously at the woman. After deeming her a non-threat, Regina rose, and crawled over to her.
And then she flopped down in her lap unceremoniously, and looked at her expectantly. It took a minute for Monty to realize what she wanted, and then it was only because of her stomach rumbling. "... You're hungry?"
Regina nodded, and got up, stretching lazily and crawling to the door. Monty got up, and followed after her, laughing a little. "Alright, breakfast it is." She said, grinning. This... was going to be interesting.
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Posted: Sun Jan 27, 2008 4:41 pm
In Which Monty and Regina run into a curious little girl named and her guardian, while attempting to grocery shop.
Starring Monty, Regina (both played by Adona Benedicta), Belle, and Green (both played by Green_Eyes)Grocery Shopping Coming soon to a journal near you.
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Posted: Mon Feb 18, 2008 6:26 pm
In Which Monty and Regina go sledding, and meet a girl with the tail of a Fish.
Starring Dr. Monty, Regina (both played by Adona Benedicta), Laura, and little Naida. (both played by Bumbly Bee)Sledding! As it were, in the midsts of winter, many outrageous sports were invented. One of which was sledding. The theory was that by using your own weight to propel yourself (on top of a bit of plastic) you could go down a hill at rapid speed, and thus, amuse yourself. Monty didn't see the point in it, not really, but it was something that she often did with her family before. It was fun, kids loved it, so naturally Regina would like it, too, wouldn't she?
Well... Hypothesis proven wrong. Regina, scowling at the piece of plastic quietly, absolutely refused to succumb to such a whim and go down a hill in a piece of plastic, with no control but a rope. "No." She said solemnly, looking at Monty and narrowing her eyes when Monty tried to argue. "No." She repeated adamantly, growling. Monty sighed, and rubbed her eyes, picking up the neon-green sled and using it as a sort of leaning post.
"I don't see what you're afraid of, Regina. It's fun! Look!" She waved her arm avidly at the kids who were also sledding, and laughing and having a blast. Regina looked at the children, arched an eyebrow, and looked back at Monty.
"... No." She snorted, and sat down, crossing her legs and arms and sitting with a glowering face. "Stupid." Monty winced, and fumed. A word she'd picked up from her cousin, of course, and one that Monty was quickly becoming tired of.
"Regina, we don't say words like that."
Regina looked at her pointedly, and arched an eyebrow in a true display of contempt. "Stupid." She repeated pointedly, looking at the kids again. She saw a kid slide down the hill, and crash into a tree, and her eyes went wide. She pointed. "See! See!? Stupid!" On the ground, Regina's arms flailed about a little as she explained how stupid the child was.
Monty sighed, and put the sled down, sitting on it. "Fine, Regina. We'll sit here and be boring."
"'Kay." Regina nodded sagely, and sat as she was. In the snow. With her legs and arms crossed, and her ears perked up. Oh yes, she would sit it out. One did not try to out-sit Regina, oh no. It was on.
Laura staggered through the snow, panting under the weight of the sled and the little girl hanging on to her back. Naida was bundled in a soft pink sweater which Laura had thought was cute, and a pair of heavily mutilated orange snowpants, which Laura had also thought were cute, but hadn't realized looked terrible with the sweater until she had already cut them up. With her tail wrapped up in waterproof fabric, she looked like nothing so much as an enormous caterpillar.
"So - what do you - want to do?" Laura asked between gasps, mounting the hill at last.
"Wanna sled," Naida replied patiently, adjusting her hold on Laura's neck. Of course she wanted to sled. That was what she had been doing in the hallway, albeit with more water and less snow, and that was why they were here.
"Yeah, but where d'you want to go?" Laura asked, beginning to get her breath back. She surveyed the hill, looking for a free spot where Naida would be unlikely to crash into either trees or other children.
"There," she said immediately, pointing a stubby finger off to the right. Laura looked over to the decided spot and frowned.
"No, baby, there's already a little girl there. She's using it, see?"
Naida shook her head, forehead crinkling with confusion. That was wrong. She wasn't using it. She was just sitting there, and she could sit while Naida sledded.
Laura sighed, her breath clouding in the cold air. "Fine, we'll see if she'll share with us. But you need to be good if she says no, okay?" she relented, mostly because there didn't seem to be another good spot and she didn't want to give up after dragging the sled up the hill.
She stumped off through the snow to the little girl and her mother, Naida happily clinging to her neck and swishing her tail. "Hey, do you think we could join you?" Laura asked, smiling apologetically.
Monty had as much pride when it came to arguments that Regina seemed to have, and while they sat there, glaring each other down and fighting without actually fighting, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe that was her influence, or just her sheer luck playing a part. Regina's ears swiveled backwards as far as they could, she could hear snow crunching under someone's feet. She turned to look appraisingly at their guest, and actually did a doubletake when she saw the girl on the woman's back.
Monty looked up when she spotted the figures coming towards them, and offered a wide and friendly smile. "Oh, sure! Feel free." She said, grinning at the woman in understanding. A fellow mother taking her tot out for a sled, it was cute. Why couldn't Regina like sledding, again? She looked at Regina, and then back at Laura, smiling. "I'm Monty." She introduced. "And this is Regina. Gina, say hi."
"'Lo." Gina said in a low voice, watching Naida curiously. She rose from the snow, brushing herself off, and went over to Laura, stopping in front of her. "Gina." She held out a hand, like she'd seen Monty do to a stranger. It was polite. Monty bit back a grin at Regina's manners, and looked amused. Until Regina opened her mouth again.
"Whossat?" She nodded to Naida, frowning curiously. Monty blinked, and hit her forehead.
"Gina, that's not polite."
"Said who, not what." She emphasized, rolling her eyes at Monty as if that made it polite. Because it did. Duh. Then she looked at Laura, waiting for an answer. Impatient little puppy, isn't she?
"Oh, thank you," Laura said, smiling. "It's just so crowded today..."
The dark-haired little girl held out her hand, and Laura adjusted Naida on her back and reached down to firmly return the handshake. It was cute, but she imagined the girl didn't think so.
"Hello! Nice to meet you, Gina, Monty," she said, nodding to each in turn. "I'm Laura, and this is Naida. You said hi too, Naida," she added, lifting the little girl down into the snow, where she sat on top of her tail, hanging onto Laura's pant leg for balance.
"H'lo," Naida said, smiling. "My tail issa fish," she told Regina quickly, something which she was just beginning to realize was unusual and was now extremely proud of.
"So, were you two going to sled?" Laura asked, looking down at the plastic sled they had brought. It didn't look like the little girl had much interest in it, but she figured she had better ask all the same.
Monty nodded in understanding, grinning a little. "We got here earlier, we were lucky to snag a nice spot." Monty replied, looking around. "Probably the last bit of snow, that's why it's so crowded, I think." She nodded sagely, then grinned at Laura again.
"Tail?" Regina's brown eyes grew wide and curious, and her nose twitched in a sniff. "Can I see?" Taking matters into her own hands, Regina went right behind Laura, to investigate this girl's 'fish tail'. If, in fact, it was a fish tail, and not just some silly costume with two legs stuffed in it. "Nice meet'chu." She said to Laura from behind her, remembering her manners a bit later than she meant to. But she remembered, and that's what counted.
Monty looked down at the sled she was sitting on, and snorted a little. "I was hopin' to, but Regina doesn't seem all that interested in it." She said honestly, both shoulders lifting and dropping in a meek shrug. "I tried, though." She grinned sheepishly.
Regina heard the mention of a 'sled', and rolled her eyes a little, snorting. "Stupid." She mumbled, crossing her arms and investigating Naida curiously. She did appear to have a tail wrapped up in that orange thing, at least it looked like it. Or maybe she just looked like a caterpillar with it on. "Look like a bug." She informed Naida, nodding sagely. Monty heard it, and fumed a little.
"Gina!"
"She does!" Regina insisted, ears flattening sheepishly. She didn't mean harm by it, really, but she did look like a bug to Regina. "Sorry." She mumbled at Naida, feeling the Maternal Glare of Doom coming from Monty. It was creepy.
Laura laughed and nodded understandingly. "Naida discovered yesterday that the floors were slippery enough to slide on when they were wet, so I figured I'd better take her out here before she tried it again," she explained, looking down at the little girl.
"Yes," Naida told Regina, but she was already looking at her tail so she guessed she didn't really need to. She wriggled it to prove that it was really a tail, and giggled at her comment. "Really?" she asked, pleased with the idea. "I like bugs." She had eaten one once, but that had been bad so she didn't tell about it. It hadn't tasted good, anyway, so she didn't like bugs to eat.
"S'okay," she said in response to the apology, although she wasn't sure why Regina was sorry. Maybe that was a bad thing to say.
Naida looked down at her sled, mildly conflicted. She wanted to sled, because it was a fun thing to do, but she wanted to play, too, because there weren't other little girls at Laura's house, and Regina didn't want to sled. "Whatchoo like t'do?" she asked, figuring that there were only snowy things to do here, and snow was slippery in general, so whatever she wanted to do would involve slipping.
Monty grinned and nodded a little, amused. "I'm lucky so far, Gina hasn't found much in the way of trouble yet." She rubbed her neck, shrugging again. "Worst thing is she's got fangs." She hooked a finger into the side of her mouth, baring her teeth, and pointing at the canines and molars. "Righ' 'ere." She let go of her mouth. "She chews on things like crazy."
"Bugs are okay." Regina nodded solemnly, then grinned. And the only word that could properly describe this grin was malicious. "Monny's got repitails." She nodded sagely. "They go like this." She wiggled her finger like a worm. "And one crawls reeeal slow." Regina grinned at Naida. Regina watched her glance down at the sled, and then shrugged when asked what she liked to do. "Bite things." She put her hand in her mouth and chomped down to emphasize.
She winced, and took her hand out of her mouth, shaking it as discreetly as she could. "You want to sled." It wasn't a question, so much as an observation. Then she nodded to the hill. "It's fun." Yes, this coming from the girl who was so adamantly against the idea of careening down a hill at a crazy and uncontrolled speed. "You sled." She smiled at her, folding her hands behind her back.
"Why don't you go down the hill too, Gina?" Monty said, smirking a little. "So Naida doesn't have to go down alone."
Regina's ears perked up, and then flattened. She glared at her guardian, then reached up and rubbed her ears. "If she wants me too." She muttered, working so hard to keep the whine out of her voice. If Naida said so, she would. She was pretty obedient about it, even if it looked dangerous and silly.
For the fish-tailed girl, she'd sled.
Even though it was a really stupid hobby.
"Oh? Good thing she only bites things, then," Laura said, smiling. "A friend of mine has a little boy who bites anyone who gets near him, and I imagine he'd be a terror if he could do any damage."
Naida listened intently, rocking back on her tail. She didn't know what a repitail was, but it sounded funny. She thought maybe it was some kind of bug, because bugs crawled too and weren't fast at all, but then wouldn't she have just called them bugs? Maybe repitails was just a better word for it, like a grown-up word.
Then she bit herself, and Naida frowned because that didn't seem like something she would like. It didn't look like Regina liked it either, because she had been hurt when it happened, but maybe she just didn't like biting her hand.
Naida smiled when the topic of sleds came up, wriggling the end of her tail a little with pleasure. Powdery snow piled up on either side of it, creating a kind of tail angel. She did want to sled. Sledding was fun. Was Regina going to sled with her, maybe?
"I want you t'sled with me," she said, smiling widely. "I like you!" She reached back and clutched the fraying rope attached to the sled, happily tugging it closer to her. Naida had unearthed it in the garage, and immediately rejected the new plastic sled Laura had bought on the grounds that it was red, and the aging wooden sled was blue. Of a sort - it was faded and chipped in places, and no longer really qualified as completely blue. All the same, Naida was in love with it and it had seemed solid enough, and so Laura had brought it, feeling vaguely guilty about letting her child ride a sled in such sorry shape.
"This's my sled," Naida proclaimed, gesturing toward it grandly. "It's blue."
"I really hope she grows out of it," Monty said sheepishly, snorting. "I don't know if I can keep everything out of her reach as she gets older." Monty smiled a little, glancing at Naida off to the side. "Sliding about on a wet floor's the worst offense with her?" She asked, grinning a little.
Regina's ears flattened when Naida had confirmed that yes, she wanted her to sled with her, and sighed a little. Maybe if she hadn't added the 'I like you', Regina could've been bratted. But that just flew out of the window then. "Then I'll sled wit'chu." She said, nodding meekly. She spotted the blue sled, and blinked, then grinned wide. "It's very blue." She agreed, nodding. Then she looked at the sled Monty was sitting on, and scowled a little.
"That's my sled." She mumbled ruefully, going over to The Big Green Neon Monster and kicking it pointedly. Monty blinked, and snorted at Gina, getting up.
"Don't be so pushy."
"I dinn' push you." Regina pointed out snidely, picking up the sled as much she could and balancing it up. Unfortunately, she counterbalanced herself, and down she went. The sled came down ontop of her, and then slid off to the side. Flattened into the snow, Regina blinked, and sat up. Snow clung to her ears, which flicked on instinct, and she scowled a little. "Stupid sled."
"Gina, that's not a nice word."
"Not nice." Regina shook her head. "True." She grumbled, and got up, yanking on the rope with the sled. She looked at Naida, and then at the hill. "You go first?" Stupid neon green monster, stupid hill...
"Well, more like getting everything wet to make for better sliding," Laura said, smiling. "Naida hasn't really grasped the idea that not everyone likes water as much as she does yet."
Naida smiled happily and nodded, mittens tightening around the rope of her sled. "Okay," she said, then added "thank you," because that was what she was supposed to say when somebody did something nice, and Regina didn't want to go sledding, so that meant it was a nice thing to do it anyway. "We can bite things after," she offered, figuring she ought to return the favor.
She watched Regina's sled intently, slightly afraid of it. It was bigger and brighter and greener than hers, and looked less tired. Maybe that was a good thing for a sled, though, so it could go down the hill right. Or maybe it was an evil sled.
Then Regina picked it up and it lunged and tried to eat her! Naida gave a little cry of surprise and leaned away from it, eyes wide. Gina didn't seem especially frightened by the attack, but maybe she hadn't realized what her sled had been doing-
"Okay," Naida replied, her thoughts interrupted by the question. She frowned slightly, wondering if the big green sled would eat Gina when she went down afterward. "Go with me?" she asked, smiling hopefully. She wasn't that big, and Regina wasn't that big, and the blue sled was pretty big, so maybe they could all go together.
Monty grinned a little, and nodded. "Give her time." She laughed a little. "Regina hasn't gotten into anything like that yet." She mused, watching the Doberman child flick her ears nervously. "Except for the biting." She added, snorting a little. And she'd already had that little talk with Regina.
Regina blinked when Naida offered to bite things after, and grinned a little, baring her teeth in what she thought was a friendly grin. Unfortunately, it probably looked more menacing than friendly. "We don't hafta." She said, shrugging her shoulders. "Biting things isn't for everyone." She realized that after trying to force Monty into chewing on something with her, and Monty explained that not everyone liked to bite things like she did. Which was just weird.
After flicking the snow off her ears, and wiping it off her as best she could, Regina picked up the question. She blinked, and then grinned again, and nodded. "'Kay." She said, going over to her sled. It looked friendlier. And not neon-fricking-green. "You wanna be in front?" She offered, looking over at Naida and grinning a little at her.
Monty watched the interaction, and couldn't help grinning when she saw Regina grin. It wasn't something she did lots of, mostly she scowled or growled at people. It was cute.
Laura nodded, grinning. "Hopefully the house will be a little drier when she's older," she said, chuckling. "I guess these are the sorts of things that make good stories when they're grown up, though."
"'Kay," Naida replied, smiling. That was a good thing; she didn't think she would have been very good at biting, or at least not as good as Regina, who had two impressively sharp teeth. Naida ran her tongue over her mouthful of baby teeth, suddenly dissatisfied with them.
Naida grinned back at Gina, pleased that she was coming with her and was not going to be eaten by the angry green sled, and also pleased that she got to ride in the front. "Yes," she answered, "I like the front."
"Say thank you, baby," Laura reminded her absently, more out of reflex than anything.
"Thank you," she said carefully, then smiled again and tugged the sled closer to them so she could climb in. The white-powdered blue wood of the sled crunched into the snow as she clambered onto it, slightly hampered by her tail. She curled it up in front of her so there would be space for Regina, the fabric of the snowpants making a funny zipping sound as she moved. Her hair was long and would probably fly around and do rude things to Gina if she let it be, so she pinched it together and kept it in front of her right shoulder, where it would be good.
"Okay, ready now?" she asked earnestly, looking over at Regina.
"Oh, I'm sure." Monty grinned a little, and shook her head. "I'm afraid I'll only have teethmarks in all of our furniture to show for her youth." She mused, looking over at the girls absently and imagining what it'd be like when Regina was a big girl. God, that was a terrifying thought. "'Course, growing up where she is... I don't think Regina'll be very normal." Monty mused, tilting her head to the side. If nothing else, she'd have a relatively abnormal love of all things reptile.
Or so Monty hoped. Severely hoped, at that.
Regina nodded to Naida's thank you, and smiled meekly. "Welcome." She mumbled. The toddler waited until Naida was settled in, before climbing onto the back of the sled and looking around them. It was terrifying. She was going to die. She was going to go down a stupid hill on a stupid sled and she was going to die.
"I'm ready." She muttered, looking around. As ready as she was going to be, considering she was going to die. Regina looked past Naida, at the descent they'd be taking, and bit back a small whimper. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die and I haven't even tasted properly cooked food. Such a waste of a good life.
"Mm?" Laura asked, confused by her last comment. "How so?" Although, she supposed that a half-animal child that had come from a leaf didn't have much of a shot at being normal regardless of where she grew up. She looked down at her little girl with mild amusement, imagining a fully-grown, aquatics-obsessed woman.
"S'gonna be fun," Naida told her friend reassuringly, looking over her shoulder and smiling. "See? S'just snow, it's like air. Or wayuh."
She peered over the curved front of the sled and down the hill, her heart thumping in her ears. It was such a big hill, and they were gonna go so fast. It was scary, a little bit, but she was excited. They were going to fly down the hill, she was sure, fly over the snow like magic snow fairies, or something like that.
"Okaay," she said, drawing it out like her mother did when she was building up to something, "Le's go!" She pushed forward with a great heave, and the sled inched forward, very slowly for one long moment, and then the curved nose pointed down and they were off, sliding down the hill like it was some enormous ice cream scoop.
Like strawberry ice cream. That was her favorite.
"Well... I work from home." Monty said, shrugging a little. "Which means my house is generally infested with snakes, turtles, lizards... But mostly snakes." She counted off on her fingers like it was nothing at all. Then she grinned a little, and looked at Regina. "She's already handling one of the snakes pretty well. She knows when to put her down, at least."
Monty sort of knew that Iaga would end up biting her eventually, but she hoped it'd be when Regina was old enough to know Iaga was just scared, and not necessarily out to get the girl. Meanwhile, Regina nodded mutedly, looking past Naida at the big hill of snow. The big hill of snow and death and doom.
And... snow.
It was a huge hill, and they were going to crash into a tree and burst into flames like on that one movie Monty let her watch. She didn't want to burst into flame! But maybe the snow would put it out and she'd die from snow and not fire. What an ironic situation that would be. Death by Snow. When Naida pushed forward, Regina couldn't help but wrap both arms around the girl and cling as they went over the edge of the hill.
It felt like they were going straight down, and Regina didn't dare look to see if that's what was happening. What if they just kept going and going and got away from Monty and Laura and never came home?
That wasn't likely. The Earth was circular, right? So they'd go right by them at least once... Unless the sled stopped on the other side of the world. Oh no!
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