?Oh mah darlin?, oh mah darlin?, ooooh mah daaarlin? Dream King!?

The song broke the silence of the wood around the snow-topped cottage, and startled a winter-painted rabbit. It ran quickly across the bank, leaving behind smeared paw prints on the powder covered ground. She heard wing beats above her as a bird changed its perch. It fled into the higher branches away from Amthy?s voice.

The nymph laughed gaily. Numb fingers pulled milky green strands from her mouth. Snow stuck to her purple-tinted fingers. A wet chill seeped through her clothes. ?I can see mah breath!? She announced to the world, exhaling until her lungs were empty and she wheezed. She should be sleeping. This was a truth that tugged at the edge of her awareness. It crept into her bones and made her limbs heavy. Typically, this was no problem; sleep, blessed sleep! She delighted in each moment spent curled in slumber. It was her ticket to the Dreamscape and (if she was lucky) an audience with the Dream King.

Somewhere near her Neano snorted. It sounded slightly like a sneeze, but Amthy knew better. The Hishn wolf skulked in a slow arc around her. His ears flicked and turned as he listened for any potential threats. As a wolf he was large. Bigger than her sister Cayt, she thought. ?Well I can,? she said to her companion and forced her breath out again. It hung in a moist cloud above her face. ?See??

Neano was unimpressed.

He wasn?t going to ruin her fun. Not yet, anyway. Amthy swung her arms in the snow, scraping out two partial arcs as she likewise moved her legs. The damp chill intensified. ?Doot-de-doo,? she sang jubilantly as she ignored it. Her girlish lilt twisted around the sounds, filling them with impish playfulness. With a secret smile she watched the wolf?s progress around her from the corner of her eye.

She didn?t want to seem like seem like she was paying too close attention, but the nymph had always been transparent. The coy scent of cherries overpowered the herbaceous scent of lavender on the air. Neano stopped and turned a baleful eye toward her. His lips curled back from his teeth in warning and his ears flattened. Amthy thought she heard him snarl.

She huffed and puffed and rolled onto her side. Her cheeks ballooned and her mouth pinched in a pout. ?You?re no fun,? she wailed. She couldn?t go about her mischief when he was clearly aware of it. ?Ruiner of Surprises,? she dubbed him and pushed herself up. ?An? dunn look sos proud o?yourself.? Amthy grumbled. Snow crumbled off her back but stuck to her green hair. The nymph shivered.

?G?home,? she said to him. ?I?ll b?all right. ?m nearly t?the Cottage,? she explained, "an? I could use a good warming.?

He gave her a look. It was no ordinary look. Laughing, she pointed at him. Wide-eyed and incredulous she howled, ?oooooh, Neano! I see you imaginin?!? She squealed. ?For shame! Shame I do tellin? you.? The nymph shook her head, wet hair swinging over her shoulders. Maybe, Amthy thought, he could have lived without the teasing. Too late now. ?I feel naked, I does. An?s sooo cold out already. Really, ?Rora will b?so scandalized!? Squeak! Amthy crossed her arms over her chest.

Neano huffed and turned away from her. Deliberately the wolf kicked snow backward at her. Then with his head held high, he left.

That was, she thought as she watched him weave around the trees, one way to chase off her guard. Amthy brushed the snow flakes off her face and chest. Mischief once kindled was not easily put aside. He left before she could really get her hands into it. Playfulness still hummed in her veins. Her attention turned once again to the cottage in its secluded valley.

The nymph grinned widely and bit her lip. Lantern-like tsavorite-hued eyes brightened. Amthy knew she was close to seeing the point of the roof against the field of winter-striped trees. The scent of cherries rolled with lemongrass and ginger.

No, mischief was not so easily discarded at all. It just needed a little something to focus on. A feathery something. An unsuspecting feathery something. An unsuspecting feathery something that was just over the crest of a hill.

All at once Amthy was glad that she wasn't sleeping.
At least not yet.

?Cayt!? Amthy squealed. Her green-topped head popped up over the side of Geladine?s Pride. The blonde-colored Pegasus ruffled his wings in surprise. Laughing, Amthy crossed her arms against his side. ??s all right,? she crooned, ?mah beauty.? The nymph gave a low dove-like warble and rubbed her chin against his coat. She had a fondness for winged things, more so when they had feathers.

?Yes?? Cayt gave Amthy a passing look before reaching over to push her sister?s arms off the side of the Pegasus. The silvery-blonde haired Shifter was all business as she attended to the animals grooming. She had been working all morning and there were still several pegasi waiting to be cleaned. Luckily, she didn?t have to tackle the task alone. Gina and Gre?Stok were there to help.

Amthy?s annoyed huff transformed into a girlish squeal. ?Oh sissy you simply have to see!? She squeaked. She bounced and all sorts of things bounced with her. Excited, she tucked her hands up near her face.

?See what?? Cayt was amused and suspicious. Both reactions were common when she dealt with her sister. Tolerance and affection were two more. She glanced between her task, the circular rub of the curry comb over Geladine?s Pride?s coat, and her sister.

??s jus? outside. Lemme get it,? gushed Amthy. ?Jus? wait right here.? She pointed at Cayt as she ran off, kicking up hay with her Kelley green rubber boots.

One of Cayt?s brows lifted and her mouth tipped to the side. She continued to brush. ?Why would I leave?? She laughed, calling the question after the retreating nymph. She shook her head and tossed the curry comb into the bucket before grabbing the dandy brush.

?What has she done now?? Gina asked from the side lines where she was grooming Away at Sea.

Cayt shrugged. ?Your guess is as good as mine,? she said wryly, sweeping the hard-bristled brush over Geladine?s Pride?s coat. She moved in short strokes, following the growth of the pegasus? hair. As she worked, she hummed softly to the mythical creature. This was one of the jobs she enjoyed. It was peaceful.

Amthy returned with a cry of triumph. ??sn? it marvelous?? She hooted. The nymph thrust a small feathery bundle toward her. It clucked nervously.

Mostly peaceful, Cayt amended to herself. ?It is a chicken.? She observed hesitantly, tempering her surprise. Was this a pop quiz? Her eyes said chicken and so did her nose.

?Jus? so,? Amthy crooned. She made low chicken-y noises back at the bird.

?But why?? The Silvery-blonde haired Shifter was puzzled at the nymph's behavior.

?Is it for dinner?? Gre?Stok asked because it didn?t hurt to ask, and he liked chicken.

Amthy gasped, completely scandalized. ?No! ?s a present.?

?Tell me it isn?t for Morpheus,? Gina laughed and groaned all at once.

?An? if it was?? Amthy asked with a heavy note of curiosity winding through her voice.

?You give the worst presents ever!? Gina accused, laughing.

?I do no?.?

?Oh, yes you do. There was that sleeping bag.?

?Pillow case,? Amthy politely corrected.

?And then the peach tree,? Gina continued.

?Which does give the most delightful fruits,? Amthy interjected.

?And now a chicken.?

?Which he probably doesn?t get to eat,? Gre?Stok grumbled, disappointed that he didn?t get to eat the fluffy clucky thing.

?Which he doesn?t even get to eat,? Gina added pointing at Gre?Stok with her hoof pick to recognize the source of the observation.

?It is a nice chicken,? Cayt said soothingly.

?An? it has feathers an? lays eggs,? Amthy chirped as she made kissy faces at the bird. ?Are no? you the cutest chicky? Yes, you are.? She crooned again. Until the bird, quite overwhelmed by the whole ordeal, turned her ire on the olivine-haired fae and started to peck at her puckered lips. ?Aiieee!? Amthy squealed and dropped (and sort of flung) the bird, which promptly made fluttering hops away from Amthy and Cayt.

?Are you all right?? Cayt asked in alarm.

?Oh, no!? Amthy wailed, ?someone catch tha? chicky before she gets away!? She squeaked.

?Do I get to eat it?? Gre?Stok asked.

?NO!? Amthy cried as she crawled under Darcainian Peak and scrambled to catch the runaway fowl before it escaped through the open door.

Cayt sighed. The day, it appeared was going to take a whole lot longer than she had first thought.

Ardane, After Dinner

?Who gets to tell her?? Bianca asked as she helped to clear away the plates from the table.

?I vote for Cayt.?

?You would!? Gina snorted, only slightly amused by Neano?s choice. Like Bianca, she helped with clearing the table. She let Bianca collect the dinner dishes and collected the serving pieces instead.

?Clearly,? Cayt said, ?we need to get another chicken.?

?Another chicken?? Gre?Stok asked with a suspicious level of interest. He dabbed his napkin at the greasy corners of his mouth. Wadding the soiled linen in his hand, he dropped it onto the table.

?But?won?t she know the difference?? Gina asked as she carried the bowls and platters to the sink.

?I don?t even remember what it looked like,? Neano interjected, ?do you??

?It was a chicken,? Gre?Stok said plainly. ?It had feathers, legs, wings, and a beak.? He punctuated each virtue with a tap of his thick finger to the table top.

?I am sure there was more to it than that,? Gina chortled.

?Not very much more,? he grumbled back, picking at his teeth.

?It was a brown hen,? Hedwig added to the conversation.

?I thought it was white?? Bianca asked. Her brows knitted together as she set the dishes on the counter and began to scrape the leftovers into a bucket.

?I plucked it. It was brown,? Hedwig asserted.

?We will get a new chicken,? Cayt replied. The silvery-blonde haired Shifter made that reality clear. The fowl would be replaced. It was better that way. Then no one had to tell her what unfortunate business had transpired that night.

?Neano,? Aurora said quietly as she joined the conversation. ?You and Gre?Stok will go to the market and purchase a new hen.? The dark-haired Alpha stayed composed at the head of the table. ?Where is Amthy now?? Several sets of eyes turned toward ?Rora. Amthy was a fickle creature and not always predictable.

?She?s not here. I think that?s all we can really know for certain,? Neano answered reluctantly. It was his duty, on most nights, to watch over the Alpha's aunt. "She did mention that she may visit the Cottage." It was that possibility that had kept him at Ardane. The Nymph liked her privacy when it came that visiting Morpheus.

?Then hope you are back before she is,? Aurora said with finality.

?Magic y?say??

?Yes,? Neano replied blandly. He managed a perfectly neutral tone that was belied by Gre?Stok?s hastily covered cough.

?Are y?all right?? She asked as the Hishn pounded on his chest with one closed fist. His brows knitted heavily together and he cleared his throat.

?Ah, yes, just a little tickle,? Gre?Stok answered. He watched Amthy finger the tail feathers of the cockerel. Its proud plumage caught the light with an iridescent sheen bringing a certain level of majesty to the creature. From comb to feather tips it was a fine specimen of the poultry persuasion?bright red comb, forest green and amber feathers, and regal bearing.

It was a chicken anyone could be pleased with?just as long as they weren?t expecting a hen.

?Okay, let me get this straight,? Gina said from the side lines, half reclined against the side of the manor?s outer wall. She uncrossed an arm and made gestures. ?The hen decided?after she heard she was a gift for Morpheus--.?

?Yes, after,? replied Neano agreeably.

Gina made a rolling gesture with her fingers as Neano interjected. ?After she heard she was a gift for Morpheus, she turned herself into a rooster.?

?Exactly.?

Gina gave Neano a flat-eyed look.

Amthy crooned to the chicken and continued to play with his feathers. ?Aren?t you a pretty boy?? She asked, using that tone that people reserved for babies of any cute variety. She wasn?t exactly listening to the conversation. Magic was involved and that was enough for her.

?Why exactly?? Gina did not want things to go too easily for the pair of Hishn.

?Because he?s the god of dreams and therefore he needs an extraordinary push to wake up in the morning?? He answered in a mix of statement of fact and question. Really, Neano was just letting words fall out of his mouth. He was just hoping they cobbled together to something reasonably coherent.

Amthy squeezed the rooster. It didn?t like that very much, but it was being smothered with attention and only had so much range of motion to take revenge on its green-haired attacker. ?Aren?t y?the mos? thoughtful chicken in th?whole wide realm? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!?

Gina?s eyes narrowed and she mouthed something about luck and being the son of a bitch, which was actually true?on both counts.

?He?s gonna love it!? Amthy squealed in joy. ?I canno? wait t?give ?im t?im.?

Gre?Stok, pleased that the situation had been adequately resolved, smiled. ?We can?t wait for you to give him the chicken either.? Which was an understatement, in the Hishn?s estimation. By his way of thinking, the bird couldn?t leave soon enough. Let Morpheus deal with the crowing, he thought. He was done with it!

Elsewhen, Shortly After the Beginning of Spring

Like little worms, Amthy dug her fingers into the thawing ground. They wriggled and plunged; weaving deeper into the stiff black-brown dirt. A chill lingered in the air. In the mornings frost spread like spider webs across the window glass and the forest floor felt as hard as stones beneath the nymph?s bare feet. Snow-melt filled the narrow brooks and streams and carried with it the taste and smell of winter.

Magic dust swirled on her pale skin, a shifting kaleidoscope of barely-there shape and color. Intermittently, it showered from her in teeny arcs of twinkling power that sizzled pregnant with potential, with making, only to burn out without having done anything at all. Presently a good many of those particles littered the ground like nymph-y dandruff.

?Nothin?s growin? yet,? Amthy complained in a breathy exhale. Her lower lip rolled out in the suggestion of a pout. ??s hardly fair,? she said toward the open door of the cottage behind her. ??s spring. All sort o? things should be a bloom. Instead, every night th?dirt freezes an? th? only green thing ?round are th? evergreens.?

She straightened from her crouch. Shaking the dirt from her fingers, she wiped what was left on the back of her skirt as she headed back inside. Amthy paused to wipe her feet on a mat before the entry way. ?May I have a magicked garden? Sommat tha? doesn?ave t?depend on a fickle spring??

As she continued on into the cottage proper, Amthy began to laugh. The scent of cherries touched the air. Her lilting airy voice drifted back outside. ?Oh, please, ?twould be a marvelous thing,? she pleaded as she leaned back on the door to close it. ?An? I would take ever so good care o? it.? The cottage door closed with a click. The sound of her laughter and the scent of cherries stayed behind.

Sometime Before Summer

Wonderment flowed through the stuff that passed as the nymph?s blood. It twined jubilantly around her fluttering heart and tightened her throat. Spring was beautiful and fleeting. What had been slow to start now ran with cruel abandon to a fiery, summery end.

Amthy had cherished each day, savored them on her tongue like quickly dissolving sugar. She had danced beneath the budding leaves and chased bunnies through the glen. She?d made friends with chipmunks and field mice and flown on the backs of deer. Newly transformed butterflies had supped from her lips; the same lips that taught hatchlings to sing.

But the days ran through her fingers and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The nymph?s magic, which at the start had blazed brightly, settled comfortably in its embers. The pearlescent sheen of pixie dust?a reminder of her former life?no longer threw its sparks, but shifted like a lazy river over her sun-kissed skin.

Her time was coming to an end.

Amthy wriggled into the soggy, cool grasses along the stream bank. The point of her chin on her bent arm, she strummed her outstretched hand along the water?s surface. Winter?s chill still touched the flow, but she knew it wouldn?t for much longer. Not after the summer sun warmed the melt.

She laughed when a fish nipped playfully at the pads of her fingers. The scales shone beneath the late spring sun. ?I do wishing tha? I had more time,? Amthy sighed. Her lower lip rolled into a pout that was audible in her airy voice.

?I know, love.?

?It doesn? seem fair.? It was a soft hufflepuffing whine of sounds that somehow shaped into words.

?I know.?

Amthy turned onto her back and laughed. The ends of her gradient green olivine hair dipped into the water, floating like algae on the surface. She shielded her eyes from the sun. ?Dun?cha jus? know everythin??? She said with teasing mirth.

?I suppose I do, lovely.?

His voice was equally teasing and it brought a contented smile to her lips. The scent of wildflowers mingled with the cloy scent of roses and a hint of cherry sweetness. With her bright eyes narrowed against the light, Amthy plucked a feather (cream with a violet sheen) from the grass and swept the tip across her nose. ?Sometimes, I do s?pose you do.? Joy and excitement trembled in her words.