Seeing the matter at hand tugged at something in Alistair. Childhood was not something he remembered having. Had he been like the little girl - compassionate and determined to stand up for others- or had he been like the boys - cruel and foolish? He didn’t know. He never would. At least she had her familiar, a guardian angel of sorts. That would’ve been great. “You have me now.” Anor pointed out as he flew down to his fairy. Even if their telepathic connection was gone, the bird was annoyingly good at deciphering Alistair’s feelings. “Splendid job you’re doing too.” He looked over to the big cat, muttering under his breath, “Of all the things I could have for a familiar, I had to have you.”
“I can still hear you.” The magpie notified Alistair loudly. The boy said nothing, merely rolled his eyes. The little girl looked up from the victim, head tilting back so she could see his face. Once, he might’ve been irked by this. But two years of it had made Alistair almost indifferent. And with one so small it was to be expected. At least she wasn’t scared. That was the worst. It wasn’t his fault he was so tall. Alright, maybe his height wasn’t the only thing that scared -- or rather drove -- others off, but he liked to think it was. Still, it was refreshing to see a child who didn’t seem the least bit frightened. That made things much easier. Anor could see the jaglion eyeing him and he bounced from one foot to the other nervously. Good cat or no, he didn’t want to be close to it and its sharp teeth. The familiar was clearly unsure about allowing Alistair near her fairy, but she gave him a curt nod and moves to the other side of the girl. The young man took that as a “go ahead” and squatted near the girl, elbows on his knees and fingers intertwined. She looked up again, a friendly smile on her face. A bit of worry shone through as she stroked the dog’s head. Once her gray eyes caught sight of Anor however... a change came over her face in the form of a toothy (or lack of) grin.
Hi! She said brightly. You’re awfully tall, are you a giant? Gisli says there’s no such things as giants but you could be a baby giant, or maybe you’re a half giant. Anor let out a small chortle. Almost instantly Alistair turned scarlet. If there was one thing he was incredibly self conscious of it was his height, at least when it was brought up. In the Glade he would have resorted to anger, but this was a little girl. He wasn’t crazy. Little kids always spoke their minds. The girl continued to do just that, That’s a pretty bird, is he your friend? The magpie spread his wings, preening himself and ducking shyly under his wing in an “Oh, stop it you!”. As if that ego needed to get any bigger. Alistair thought, thankful that his familiar couldn’t read his mind. The child plowed on, What’s his name? What’s your name? Why is he on your head? He looks nice, can I pet him?” It was almost like meeting the Greenbean every month. Thank god he didn’t have to give them the tour.
Let the boy speak! The jaglion said firmly. Her fairy only laughed. At least introduce yourself. Good. Now he didn’t have to call her “girl”.
At last he got their names: Grim for the girl, Gisli for her familiar. And Pablo. Pablo for the dog. He also got a warning about a grumpy Gisli in something more than a whisper. The feline said something about everything being Pablo and Grim laughed. She looked at Alistair as if expecting him to back her up and said, in all seriousness, He looks like a Pablo, doesn’t he? The boy blinked, not quite knowing how to respond. He’d never known a Pablo before. “Pablo’s as good a name as any, I s’pose. Fits well and he seems to like it.” Grim looked at him, gray eyes full of trust. But he’s hurt, poor thing. Those bad boys hurt him. Will you fix him? Her smile was so hopeful and her gaze so trusting -- more so than even some of his closest friends -- that he couldn’t say no. Alistair knew very little about healing. He could most he was capable of was stitches, on a good day resetting a dislocation. He didn’t know what the do -- Pablo -- needed, but he would be damned if he didn’t at least give it a go. “I’ll try my best. But I’ll need you to help me. Be my assistant, ya know.” He couldn’t make promises, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to attempt to help Pablo. Problem was, he had no clue where to begin. Hopefully Grim would.
The boy brought himself down to the ground, crossing his legs beneath him. Considered he was counting on Grim to know what was wrong with the dog, he decided he may as well answer some of her questions. “To answer you, I am not, to my knowledge, a giant, young, old, part, or completely. Yes, this bird is my friend. He is my familiar and his name is Anor. My name is Alistair. He is on my head because he likes perching there and he is afraid of being eaten by Gisli. And yes, you may pet him.” The magpie needed no encouragement, flying down to the ground and hopping over to Grim and cocking his head to one side. “So Grim, what do you think Pablo needs fixing first?”
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