Of Monsters and Music

If I Only Had A Heart - The Wizard of Oz

A few hours prior...

LADY ASPENWIND

Why is it that whenever I try to do something nice, I always end up having one of the worst days ever?

"Oh, for Tatiana's sakes, finally!" I say as I spot the... quaint little bungalow I've been searching for peeping out behind a dense wall of trees. It's taken me four hours of traipsing around a swamp to find this place, and I want some tea.

I walk up to the door - my wings had given up on me after about one hour of searching - and knock on the door as politely as I can, given my current situation.

There's a faint "coming!" from inside, followed by a few bangs and crashes, and then finally the door opens.

Hmm... if Chase wasn't so infatuated with Rory, I might try and see if this pretty young lady has a betrothed.

I sniff. "You're not Dr Falafel."

She smiles, but it's a bit confused. "You mean Dr Fralfella?"

I wave my hands, and she seems to get the 'I don't care' message from that.

Her wings give a little annoyed flutter. "I'm his grand-niece."

"Would you be able to help me?"

"I can try, Lady...?"

"Aspenwind."

The girl screws up her face but is still, somehow, rather nice-looking, I suppose. "Where have I heard that before?"

I roll my eyes and push my way past her, into the house. "Nevermind that, where's you're hospitality?!"

The girl gives a heavy sigh and closes the door. "Welcome, Lady Aspenwind."

"Better." I find the least offensive-smelling chair and settle in it. "Now, I've had a long trip here just to give you some business, and I would absolutely love a cup of tea! Lemon, if you have it."

She gives me a false smile. "Coming right up," she says and walks out of the room.

I look around at the little bungalow - if possible, it looks smaller inside than it does outside. There are plenty of spells for making spaces bigger - one only has to talk to Lena to know that much - so I wonder why the girl hasn't put one on her house.

Maybe I should give her a few pointers, she mustn't know how to do it herself, the poor thing.

The girl walks back into the room with a cup of tea and sets it on the small wooden table near my chair. "We didn't have lemon," she says, "so I made strawberry hibiscus. It's the closest thing we have at the moment."

"I suppose that will suffice."

The girl sits in an old armchair across from me - the back is taken out so her wings can fit.

"What can I call you?" I ask.

"Sunny."

"Sunny... where are you from?"

"Here."

"The swamp?"

"The swamp."

"Oh." I'm not quite sure what to say to that. "It's just... I've never seen someone with that type of wings paired with a skin colouring such as yours."

"Ah, yes. I get questioned about that a lot, actually." She looks over her shoulder at her wings, as though she hasn't seen them a thousand times before.