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The autumn sun was still high, only just past noon. Still there were fewer hours now. By 7 the sky would be dark again and he'd have to either be at his home or wary as he made his way back.

But for now there was warm sun, soft grass, an old tree and a good book.

Setting his satchel against the trunk of the old maple he put his newest aquisition on his lap and opened to the page he's last read. It didn't take long for him to become engulfed in the story of medieval wars and hubris.

Smerdle glanced around the quiet park as she walked, still a bit shocked that Brownie had even asked to come here today. Usually it was Smerdle's idea and Brownie just tagged along long enough to start trouble.

The toddler wasn't starting trouble today, at least not with anything sentient. She stomped along, a few feet ahead of her aunt, pulling grass out of the ground in clumps and muttering angrily to herself. When she finally thought to pay attention to her surroundings, a young man caught her eye. Brownie knew he was just the person she wanted to see, even though they had never met.

Before Smerdle had even noticed she was on the move, Brownie broke into a stumbling toddler-jog, coming to a stop a short distance from where Lonan sat.

The teen didn't even flinch at the approaching run. One finger moving to mark his page he looked up in the general direction of the child.

"Hello."

Yeah, this guy was worth whatever scolding she was bound to get from Smerdle.

"Hi," she said in return.

"Brownie!" Smerdle said, catching up with the child. "I'm sorry if she's interrupting you."

"Not at all." The book was marked with a pressed leaf and set aside.

"You can come closer if you like. I won't harm you." He was sitting lotus style at the trunk, wings tucked to his back and flowing down to the ground. He almost looked like a cross between a nymph and a shadow with how the light played through the leaves.

Brownie took to the invitation immediately. She hurried forward, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "What'chu readin'?" she asked.

Smerdle hung back, watching the two interact. She had a faint suspicion that this young man was blind, but if that was the case, how could he read? She peeked at the cover of his book. It didn't look magical.

"A long story called Beowulf. It's a bit heavy, but it's a good read for one like me." His hands moved surely, gently tucking under the child's arms and helping her settled in his lap.

"What is your name, small one?"

"Brownie," she answered. "Hooyou?" She knew it was impolite, but 'What's your name?' was still a little too much to say. Hoping to soften the question, she added, "Please?"

"Lonan. What brings you to me small one? Curiosity?"

The tone was gentle, the voice soft. He was calm and quiet like the day around them. Not once was his tone anything but soft and pleasant despite the lack of facial expression.

"You have little sharps on your back. What are you?"

"We glass," she said, putting her hand to his chest. It was the answer to both questions, why she had approached him and why she had her knives. She didn't remember being a shard, but her father had told her what he had heard about the Center and kids like Asra. Maybe that was why he had left. She frowned for a second, not wanting to think about her father, but was smiling again just as quickly.

Lonan was just like her, as she had known he would be. Brownie gnashed her sharp little teeth with momentary delight.

One black eyebrow rose to vanish in his fringe.

"So you are like me then?" He settled back against the tree a bit more properly, letting the girl settle herself.

"So what are you then? I am black feathers in chain, taht I remember being told. What of you?"

For all the rumors she had been told, there was one thing that none of her guardians knew. But Brownie did. She didn't know about the necessity of the reflection or the alley where it had been made, far away from here, but she knew what she was inside.

Murder.

She couldn't bring herself to tell Lonan. It was bad enough how people treated her when she acted on impulse. If he knew about her foundation, the very act that informed all of her thoughts and hopes, he might never speak to her again. Even though they had just met, she didn't want that.

"Dunno," she said. It was a skillful lie... for a toddler.

"Lonan?" Smerdle interrupted. "I think I saw an ice cream cart near where Brownie and I came in. Can I get you anything?" It wasn't an everyday practice, leaving Brownie alone with strangers, but the kid had proven to be excellent in choosing her friends. They were certainly all nicer than she was.

"Little one, please don't lie to me. I promise that whatever it is I will not hold it against you. Would you hold the fact that I can't see against me?"

One hand rose to brush through the girl's hair, carefully avoiding the glass on her back.

"No thank you, ma'am. I have cool tea in my satchel. I appretiate the offer though."

Brownie squinted her eyes at Smerdle, remaining silent until her aunt had offered a brief wave and wandered off to get sustenance.

Blind? Like Smerdle, Brownie hadn't seen the inside of Lonan's book before he had put it aside, but unlike her aunt, the girl hadn't automatically assumed that there was some sort of 'magic reading' going on just because she hadn't seen any braille. Not being able to see would stink, but she hadn't held it against him at all. "No," she said.

Okay. She would tell him. What would it hurt? Lonan was right. It wasn't like she had ever killed anyone herself. She leaned in, getting her mouth as close to his ear as she could before whispering, "Murder." As soon as the word had left her, she leaned backwards suddenly, hands clasping over her open mouth.

The teen didn't so much as flinch. Rather his arms came up and settled lightly around her. "See, that wasn't so hard. You cannot help what you are any more than I. Do you think it bad to have that as your source?"

The book at his side was ordinary if old. The ink raised from use and wear. The only way he was able to read the words. White eyes looked down at the little girl in his lap, not like ice but rather calm clouds, patient and silent witness.

When he didn't lash out at her or look shocked, Brownie's hands slowly moved away from her face and rested on his arms.

Did she think it was bad? No! It was exciting and irritating and itchy and warm, and she knew no one else felt the way she did. "No," she said, the smile on her face in her voice as well.

"Then are you afraid of what others will think of you for it? Is that why you hesitated to tell me?"

His words were gentle, as was the hand that stayed in her hair, ruffling it. Small children were apt to be afraid of those larger than themselves. He was not one to inspire such a trait when he could avoid it.

"Yes." She struggled for a second before saying, "Dey afraid of stuf I do." She was trying not to hurt people anymore, but it was sometimes very hard, especially recently for some reason.

"Oh? What do you do small one? You know I will not hold it against you."

That was not right. No child should be afraid of their origins.

"Cut..." She couldn't very well call her father The Man like she did in her head. Lonan wouldn't know what she was talking about. "Dad. Cut Dad." The first couple of times had been accidents, but after a while she found that she liked it. She enjoyed making a grown man screech like a little girl. "Mistake. Dad's gone." She frowned, angry that Lonan was making her think about her father again.

"You cut people? You cut your father? And he left?" He was a little confused. Then again he was good at full languages, not the speechlings of toddlers.

She nodded and then said, "Yes," to clarify. "Mistake, but not sorry." It wasn't a nice thing to say, but her father deserved it.

Brownie thought about the postcards he had sent since he'd been gone, his stories of new siblings that she would probably never meet. Those kids were stealing her time. Brownie balled her fists for a brief moment before unclenching them and letting her anger seep inside, leaving only her sadness. She would seek him out, go to her father and show him that he had made the biggest mistake of his life by leaving her.

The thinking-furrow crossed the teen's brow. "Did he... did he hurt you, little one?"

He couldn't really argue with her logic if the man had hurt her.

Brownie shook her head. "No." He hadn't really, at least not physically. She didn't yet understand that mental abandonment was nearly as bad as physical abuse.

"Assi-dent. Miss him." The last was said in almost a whisper, almost as if she hadn't meant to. She was glad that Lonan couldn't see the tear that slid down her cheek. Stupid. She shouldn't be crying, she should be out finding the idiot and doling out revenge.

"Shhhh, I'm sorry small one." He was usually one to keep people at arm's length. Now though he carefully wrapped arms and wings around the small creature in his lap.

The man must have done something to her then. He hoped he got a chance to serve him a little revenge on he behalf.

"I was once told that the best revenge is a good life. Think that's true?" It was said in a mildly conversational tone, meant to pull the small girl from her saddness.

Brownie scrubbed her fist roughly against her face and took a deep, shuddering breath. She had never before cried in sadness, and she certainly didn't like it. Lonan's voice soothed her, and she thought about his words.

Yes. There was no need to go out in the world, small as she was, to exact revenge on a man who obviously didn't care about her. She would stay right here and make him care.

A little of the cockiness she had used to display in an effort to make people feel she was worth something returned, and Brownie smirked, sadness tucked away for now.

"Guess so." Brownie nodded, the matter settled. Lonan was nice like Asra, except with more clothes. She settled back against him and looked up at the leaves above her head.

The toddler yawned, pressing a fist to her mouth to stifle it. She was tired, and not only in body. She was tired of what had happened to her in the past week, tired of her great swings in mood for no good reason, but most of all, she was tired of people disliking her for things she couldn't control. They weren't worth her time.

"I'll let you in on a secret then. It worked for me. I just don't care what people think of me anymore. If they cannot like me for who I am, then I just don't bother with them."

He let the girl nest against him. He was not the warmest of bodies or the best for snuggling against, but if Brownie found him adequate he would not be the one to tell her otherwise. She was quiet and he appreciated that. "Nap if you like. I'll wake you when your mother comes back with your treat, little one."

Good advice. Brownie nodded again, wings gathered against her back. They were as warm as her skin, so it was no hardship if Lonan was not.

She had just nodded off when Smerdle appeared in the distance, carrying a can of root beer and a box of those mini Klondike bars. The woman scuffed through the grass, shaking her head in astonishment. The kid found solace with the most random people.

"Hi again," she said softly. "I hope she hasn't been too much trouble."

Lonan stayed still, one hand gently raking through the girl's hair. "Quite the opposite. She's calm company."

The hand moved from Brownie's hair to her shoulder to give her a gentle shake. "Little one, your mother is back." His voice was soft, his hand gentle. If she was truely determined to stay asleep he would let her use him as a living pillow a while longer.

"Hmm," Brownie mumbled, pushing herself into a sitting position and glancing over at Smerdle. She really did want to stay, but she wanted a mini Klondike bar as well.

"Thank you," she said, trying to stand on legs still shaky from her brief nap. "See you?" She hoped she would, but she hadn't had any luck meeting any of her kind twice, except of course, ribbon boy.

"I would like that. Come by the Hollow if you wish a visit." He handed a folded bit of paper to the girl's mother.

Standing carefully with the girl still in his arms he plucked a feather from his wing and tucked it behind her ear. "Take care little one. Get the best revenge you can."

The little hint was clear as he gathered his satchel and handed her to her mother. With a slight nod he started back down the path. Time to return to to his little bit of sanctuary.