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~The Lonely Little Vial~

Clink. Clink. Clunk. The round perfume bottle, still full of its liquid fragrance, fell out of its buyers pocket and landed on the ground where unknowing feet nudged and kicked it until it was lying against the wall of a building, nearly cracked from its little disaster, and yet somehow unharmed. It lay there for hours, days maybe - for how could an object tell time? Rain washed over it, cleansing it of the dirt it had gathered in its fall, and making its glass sparkle and shine as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

Down the street, a mother had two toddlers on baby leashes and two infants in a stroller, looking quite overwhelmed as she attempted to make her way over to the bookstore. "Lissy, shh, little one, I'll get you some balm for your wings as soon as we get to Jadyn's - Axel, no setting that rattle on fire! Miri, pleas,e please do not try and bring home a pet rat again! Luvvie - Luvvie where -" The distraught woman's cries increased when she noticed that her blonde-haired daughter was stretching to the limits of her pink toddler lead, pointing frantically at something sparkly. As soon as the massive group of babies got close enough, the little blonde snatched up the vial - the contents within swishing around as she did so.

Tish immediately snatched the vial fro out of Luvvie's hands, a worried frown crossing her face. "Luvenia Jenkins, you shouldn't pick up random things from off of the street, you don't know where... it's... been..." Something was oddly compelling about this little perfume bottle, and the brunette's rebuke died on her lips. This object. . . she needed it. . . or it needed her, somehow. . . She didn't know where it had come from, or if it belonged to anyone - no, it belonged to her, and her alone, she could sense that. . .

Sighing at her own inability to resist the pull of the little object - she didn't even know what the perfume's scent was! - Tish stuck it in her purse and continued on her way, not having a clue that she had just taken yet another member into her crazy, child-filled household. In her purse, the perfume bottle almost - almost- seemed to give a little sigh, as if it had finally found what it had been searching for.

~Name that Smell~

"Faiya, come back here!" Tish yelped, chasing the very wet, very naked toddler down the hall from the bath. This was a routine that had developed overnight in the the Jenkins household - any time Faiya, the little girl who came from a perfume bottle, got the chance, her clothes were off and she was running. "Faiya, we don't run around naked! It's not polite!" She said some variant of this almost every night that the toddler had been in her care. It never worked.

Faiya just giggled and ran on, the smell of cinnamon and butter trailing her around the house. This time, though, instead of running into the playroom and hiding behind the toys - or her siblings - Faiya made a left turn and ran into the kitchen, almost immediately slipping on the tile and falling to the ground, a bright red cut opening on her knee, accompanied by a panicked wail.

Tish noticed the smell before she heard the sound - she couldn't identify it, aside from the fact that it was horrible and made her nose actively feel like it was burning. When the wail followed a split second after, the brunette was already in the kitchen, scooping Faiya up and spotting the cut on her knee. Murmuring comforting words, she took the little one back to the bathroom, the eyes of her other children following her - particularly Lissy, who fought off tears herself - maybe from the horrible stench, maybe because her sister was hurting, Tish couldn't tell - and started to doctor the horribly painful cut.

It was only later, when the cut was doctored and Faiya was dressed, happily munching on a cookie for being a brave big girl, that she would look back and realize what the scent was - the acrid stench of burning flesh, mixed with ammonia and the metallic scent of too much blood.

It was a smell Tish never, ever wanted to have touch her nose ever again, and she vowed she'd do everything in her power to prevent it. As Faiya poked at the starry band-aid covering the cut, chattering nonsense about how it was pretty while the scent of raspberries and vanilla surrounded her, Tish reached over and patted her daughter on the head, smiling warmly at her and receiving a cookie-crumb covered smile in return.

It was said that fear had a scent. Tish knew now that pain had one too.