Childlike, gullible, and utterly chaotic.
That's how she describes her younger self. Not ignorant in any way, but mostly curiously insufferable in doing silly things just to satisfy her curiosity.
Some might call it madness. An insufferable craving for knowledge. Absolute bonkers. What sort of moronic idiot would wander around the woods in the middle of the night, just to prove that there were fairies, werewolves, or any sort of nonsense creeping during that time?
Only a bloody fool like her would do such a thing.
As moronic as it sounds, she doesn't wander in the middle of the night without any protection. Well, if she could consider the bottle of her homemade pepper spray and the small dagger she got from her mum as a form of protection, then that's it.
Winter wasn't always the typical kind of child. At ten, when kids her age were playing marbles, she was making rock towers for the water sprites. At twelve, when they were playing with dolls and houses, she wandered at night to the woods, looking for light fairies as playmates. At fourteen, when girls her age were fascinated by makeup, she was rather interested in smothering her whole body with honey just to attract garden fairies.
Mental, they said. Well, the entire neighborhood wasn't wrong about that.
Winter was always playing pattycake with danger—like always. Now, she was eighteen, she was pretty much still the same. Well, except for the fact that she grew a couple of inches taller, and was now working at Café Guifi as a barista, after begging the owner, Mr. Chapman, to hire her.
As much as Winter doesn't want to acknowledge that, she is utterly wild. Due to her insufferable behaviour, some of the citizens of Elderwood consider her a nuisance, an eyesore, and an attention-seeking orphan.
As a young parentless child, it hurts to see, and feel, the feeling of not being wanted. But Winter was never the kind of person who held grudges. Her mum always said that not all people are bad, they're just bitter. Also, some were just bound in an unfortunate fate, that's why they project their misery onto other people, which is something that isn't fair, yet also something that could still be changed.
Winter believed in her mum's words that giving kindness would eventually lead to receiving goodwill. She believed her without a doubt because she met the Homewoods.
The Homewoods are a family of four. Oldman Jones, a wobbly veteran soldier, and the father of Mrs. Dolly and Ms. Darbus, identical twins with not-so-identical personalities and appearances. Lastly, Molly Homewoods, Mrs. Dolly's seven-year-old daughter.
They were one of the few people who proposed to take her in, despite Ms. Darbus' absolute disagreement with the proposition. Mrs. Dolly, Winter's favourite person, insisted on it, but didn't continue since Winter refused the offer politely.
As much as she wanted to live with Ms. Dolly and Molly, she couldn't abandon her mum's small cottage house. It contained all of the wonderful memories she had with her, and she wanted to keep and cherish that forever, even if it requires her to live in the middle of the woods alone. It was her home. Even if it was surrounded by tall rigid trees, and the eerie, yet beautiful sound of nature, it was still her home, and Winter wouldn't exchange that with any other.
Before the Homewoods had found her, Winter lived silently in the cottage for three months, waiting for her mum's return. Ms. Darbus said that it was a miracle that she'd survived with barely enough food to eat for that long.
And yet she did. The small amount of food she got from the woods kept her alive.
She believed that the wood faeries were the ones who helped her get through that tragic fate because she remembered a vivid light feeding her a honey-like liquid that soothed all the aches in her body before she passed out due to exhaustion. It wasn't a dream. She remembered telling the Homewoods about that memory, and up until now, she believed that it wasn't just a dream.
She recalled how Mrs. Dolly looked at her with teary eyes as she caressed her bony arms. She could only smile weakly to let Mrs. Dolly know that she was fine. Winter ate a scrumptious meal that day. She ate it with so much delight and utter gratitude.
Winter never considered herself an orphan. She has a mother, and she's out there, searching—searching for herself. She promised Winter that she would return, and that they'll continue their countless adventures. She promised that once she was back, she'll have lots of stories to tell, and Winter still kept holding on to those words because she promised. It was written in the letter she left on the table, along with the small birthday cake they got from Dr. Dewberry's bakery shop. And promises are not meant to be broken.
She can't wait to hear what stories her mum has to offer once she returns. Aside from the stories of Cait Sìth, Winter had always loved stories about constellations, especially about the Galaxy Express Railway.
She wonders what it would feel like to venture into a world full of uncertainties. It sounds absolutely dangerous yet amazing, and having to tolerate such thoughts is utter madness, but Winter is the epitome of madness. Her crazy, bushy brown locks, and emerald piercing gaze are already enough to scare the kids in their neighbourhood.
Looking at constellations reminded her of her favourite sweets, PopStar! A crystal-like candy that she'd always begged her mum to buy at Dr. Dewberry's. Imagining different round-coloured candies touching your lips with their delightful tastes, exploding inside your mouth, and providing you with the sensation of sweet ecstasy was utterly delightful and gratifying to feel.
She can't help but crack a smile, chuckle here and there whenever she thinks back to those times. Some kind of a fantasy dream, right? She reckons, laughing at her own silly ideas like a child. Yet, the fantasy that she'd created for herself was one of the things that helped her get through those tough times, and she wouldn't trade them for anything…
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Winter sprang up in the middle of the night, wide awake, due to a sudden sound that kept on repeating every single time. She had been hearing strange noises lately. The sound of a train, to be specific, and she couldn't fathom where it was coming from.
There was no train close to Elderwood. Oh, wait, she pauses for a moment and ponders. There is one, but that was miles away from her cottage house. She was, by far, still living in the middle of the woods, and it was impossible to hear the sound of the train from that distance.
How curious, she thought.
The fact that it seemed to echo above the ceiling was something that puzzled her a lot too.
How curious indeed.
She called for Matilda, a white Persian cat with beautiful grey eyes, but there was no response.
Strange, she thought.
She usually sleeps beside her because she loves to snuggle.
In conclusion, Matilda was missing again.
Rising from her bed, Winter slipped on her slippers and padded over to the window. She opened it, letting the cool night air in, and peered out into the dark. Her eyes scanned the porch and the surrounding trees. As her gaze moved, she spotted a black cat with piercing yellow eyes sitting on her porch.
The cat stared back at her, unblinking, as if it had been waiting for her. Winter frowned, feeling a slight chill despite the warmth of the night. She shook her head, dismissing the cat as just another stray from the woods.
"Matilda?" she called out softly, but still no response. She glanced back at the black cat one last time before closing the window. She decided that getting some rest was much more important than satisfying her own curiosity at the moment. Matilda might show up later like she always does, so she wasn't worried.
Still completely perplexed after such a long and tiring night, she let herself succumb to the warm embrace of sleep and drifted off to dreamland once more.