Girl Sad

Her temper had gotten the best of her. Again. Which granted, was nothing new, given that Merle had realize her fight or flight instinct tended much more towards the former than the later. Still, none of that was an appropriate excuse for shoving her cousin Janus so hard he'd tripped over a rock on the garden by the porch. No matter how much the young nine year old felt the boy had deserved it for being a right git.

The boy had taken a nasty tumble, and though her grandmother had noticed instantly and was almost upon them as the accident was happening, she was not there fast enough to stop the child from knocking his head roughly on the ground. The old woman had helped her cousin up and then turned a disapproving gaze upon Merle herself, "Physicality and brute force is not an acceptable way to win an argument, young lady, and surely no way to change someone's opinion," the words were snapped, harsh and strong from such a mild mannered, usually calm old lady, "Remember, child, violence begets more violence. You would do well to remember that," then quieter, almost under her voice as she led the boy away, "We all should do well to remember that... always."

It wasn't that Merle did not agree. She did; she was smart enough to realized she'd mucked things up as soon as her hands had pressed against the boy's chest and shoved him off balance. She knew that any righteousness she might have had as they'd been arguing had fled the moment her hands came into contact with him. He'd been a right berk, but it had been no excuse to be a berk back at him, and deep down, what hurt more was the knowledge that she had disappointed her grandmother in doing so.

She knew better, and she had behaved terribly.

And no sooner had her grandmother led her cousin back inside, Merle had stomped and fumed away, further into the yard until she'd found a large, flat boulder, and had sat upon it. She'd pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself, her head laying down there as she tried not to sniffle. She was having only a mild success of it, but she figured she'd be able to collect herself successfully before the sun started to dip and she'd be forced to take refuge within the large estate house once more. The building was not as huge a comfort as her much smaller house, back in the north, but it was familiar, and the looming presence made her feel secure as she looked over the meadow and forest that lined her grandmother's unfenced estate. It always amazed her how much wilderness there was when they were so close to a big city such as London.

Merle remain there, with her head pillowed on her knees for a long while before a voice interrupted her thoughts "Girl sad..." the voice whispered, and she lifted her head to look around the grass, her eyes falling upon the trees a distance away before she looked back at the estate building behind her. She did a full sweep of her surroundings before scrunching her nose in confusion, "Perhaps... Girl hungry?" the voice was soft, confused as she felt, and again she made a cursory look around the boulder, "Girl eat mice? Mice not out yet. Perhaps later..." a pause followed, and finally Merle was able to spot a small reptilian head that had slithered up upon her boulder.

The creature was small, unassuming, really, with a small, flat head and a long body that slithered up to curl on the boulder, it's belly smooth over the warm surface. It looked mostly brown, with a light colored band on the upper section of it's neck, followed by a black one right after, and Merle had spent enough time in the countryside to identify it for what it was; a little garden snake. It was not the first one she'd seen in her Grandmother's garden, but it was certainly the first one she'd ever heard speak, making the girl wonder if she'd somehow fallen asleep on the boulder and was having some sort of weird dream.

"Perhaps Girl cold?" the snake mused, apparently not needing her input to continue the one sided conversation. Its eyes were watching her from it's spot on the boulder, and Merle wasn't sure why she'd expected the creature to have slit pupils, like those of a cat, but it did not; the snake was watching her unblinkingly, with large, round eyes, it's pupils wide and dark like the night, reflecting no emotion back at her. It was a very disconcerting dissonance, because the voice had inflection and emotion, but she saw none of that in the small creature as it flicked it's tongue, "Girl should lay on rock. Rock warm. Take away the cold. Warm belly... Warm always better," it said with finality.

Merle's voice wavered slightly as she finally answered "I'm not cold... or hungry," she said softly, "I'm disappointed in myself. I did a bad thing. I was wrong."

There was silence for a while, a quiet during which the girl turned away from the creature and nearly forgot it'd intruded upon her solitude until it spoke up again "When hunt fails, and mouse gets away... this one tries again. Better next time. Grow better. Stronger, faster. No use sad. No use mad," it's head turned away from her, tongue flicking out to taste the air as it uncurled and left the safety of the rock, moving towards the grass again, "Next time always better than previous," before it left, it turned to pin her with the strange, reptilian look, "Girl learn in time too. Time to hunt for this one. Sun leaves soon. Cold soon."

And that said, it vanished. Merle did not tell her Grandmother about the small garden snake, but she never forgot it's words.