As little brothers went, he was acceptable. His skin was the color of sand or toasted marshmallows, and he had a kind of clean sunniness about him that she liked. He even smelled of the sun, that peculiar mix of sweat and slightly burnt hair that identified children who had been playing outside. He had a little white horn, too, like a unicorn out of her stories, and a long tufted tail that did not quite drag on the floor.
On the whole he was a pretty little thing, so she wouldn't have minded sharing her mother and her room with him. The only trouble was that, in spite of her mother telling her that he was her brother, he maintained that he was not. "I got a sister," he said stubbornly. "An' a brother, an' a mommy an' daddy."
Naida was not sure what to make of this. Her mother said she ought to play with him, but he wanted to be left alone and anyway there was no shortage of other things to do. She swam when she could, looked through books and pretended like she could read, had imaginary adventures with imaginary friends, and most of all played with Regina.
Regina was great fun, because she was her best friend and lived in a house full of snakes besides. They couldn't sled anymore, because the snow had melted into slush and mud and finally disappeared, but there were new, springy things to do, like go to the park and roll and play in the grass. There were flowers everywhere now too, and if they went to the right places, the world was so full of colors and smells that Naida got dizzy.
So for a while it didn't matter that Bal didn't want her as his sister, because Regina wanted her as her best friend and she was never lonely. Things went along happily until one day in May, when Regina told her she was leaving on a trip. Naida cried stormily and then promptly refused to remember, until the thing actually happened and it was forced upon her.
"Gina's gone?" she cried, her cheeks soaked with tears.
"She's on a trip, sweetheart," Laura said. "Remember? She told you about it."
"For how long?"
"They don't know. A little while."
Naida sobbed until she was exhausted and her eyes hurt, and then retreated to her room to feel sorry for herself. Bal was in there, sprawled on the floor with a box of crayons and several sheets of paper. Either he was too absorbed in his work to notice her or he ignored her.
She watched him for a while. He was drawing something with long brown hair and short horns; a lady, she decided. It was good, but the face was conspicuously blank.
"Who'zat?" she asked after a few minutes, and he looked up at her uncertainly, as if deciding whether or not he wanted to tell her.
"My mommy," he said at last.
"Oh," said Naida, and then fell silent again. He didn't seem to mind her being there, so she stayed, curling her tail up to her chest and thinking to herself.
On a sudden impulse, she took a piece of paper and a handful of crayons and began to draw. He put down his crayon and looked at her curiously, tilting his head to see the page.
"What'sa picture?" he asked, a puzzled frown on his face.
With a flourish, she completed her drawing and showed it to him. "My brother," she said, smiling shyly at him.
"I'm not-" he began, and for a moment she thought he was going to contradict her. Then he stopped, and hesitated with a funny expression on his face. "...blon' alla way like that, see? S'brown a li'l," he finished instead, and smiled back at her.
Naida laughed and drew the brown in, a little happier. Regina was her best friend; she was going to be her best friend forever and ever, but maybe she had a brother too.
(This actually happens around the twelfth or so, but I got it up a little late.)
