Mk wrist-fully looked at the computer screen, its screen was blankly dark. She sighed sitting at her father's work table. She used to love winter, as a little girl she would run around giggling, making snow angels. Making her mother crazy with worry, her father would tell her stories of this theory of little men.
The memories brought a small smile to her face but winter wasn't like that for her. Earlier this year she had fallen for a guy. Within a day but it felt like she knew him for months. Now there was a tiny little flaw. No literately tiny, the guy was tiny. Two inches tall to be correct.
Nod.
After the forest no longer needed saving and she returning to her normal size... well in the beginning it had been tough. Before she had to use a helmet and run around the find him. Later on with her genius father Boma hooked them up with a camera. So they could speak normally with each other. All Nod had to do is set off the alarm and boom they would chat. Though she missed being the same height as him, it was like a long distance relationship. But then at-least they could talk. Now she didn't have that since the winter frost kicked in, they had to take the system down. The wires would freeze and her father said it would take a lot of money to fix. She couldn't even use her helmet, so now she hated winter.
She sighed, brushed her red hair out of her green eyes. Mk drifted over to the window, the snow was now coming down harder. It had layered up on the ground, which means her father is now stuck.
Stuck? Well he had to rush out quickly to get supplies for them. The news reported a huge storm was on its way and Boma freaked out. He rushed out and left her alone in the house with Ozzie. So not much was happening, besides hearing weird sounds at night, really creep-ed her out.
She shivered as a chill went up her spine, strangely one of the windows had opened. She walked over and closed it. She looked around, Ozzie was snoozing nothing weird about that. She rubbed her arms shaking her head. Being alone with no one people in this house was getting to her. Mk walked over into the living room wrapping herself in a blanket on the couch.
"Mk!" A high squeaky voice yelled slowly into Mk's ear. She turned her head around, a little girl all bundled up extremely stood on Mk's shoulder. A cheeky girl who Mk would never forget.
"Mari?" Mk blinked in confusion. Now you don't have to be a leafmen to know that a plant person should be in the cold. Cold kills plants duh. It was strange to see the queen herself alone in her house and on her shoulder.
The little girl nodded, Mk stood up, Mari easily kept her balance on the stomper's shoulder. Mk strolled over to the boxes and pulled out a helmet. Hey it was inside not outside. She put the helmet on and held out her hand. Mar jumped into her palm stumbling slightly.
"What are you doing here? Without your guards?" Mk asked. Mari had come around the camera a few times asking her what stomper's were like and boys. Girl stuff. She saw her like a little sister, sometimes a annoying one when she asked about Nod and her were going.
"I thought I would surprise you," Mari told simply.
"Which means you snuck out" Mk told smirking slightly. Mari was pretty good sneaking out, impressed Mk a few times.
Mari held up her hands, having a smug look on her face. "I have a gift, cannot deny it. Now right to the point. Moonhaven is going to have a party!" Mari smiled brightly. "Cause well, the subjects need some cheering up. Can't have them sad, makes me sad. Besides Nod has been grumpy, and when I say grumpy I mean grummmmmpppyy woo."
"And you are telling me why?" Mk questioned raising a brow.
Mari had a sly gleam in her eye and Mk got the message loud and clear. Mk stood up "I can't, Ozzie-"
Mari cutt her off "I can make that work, I am the queen I know what I am doing. Besides write a note to your dad. Pleeeease Mk! You got tooooo!" She gave Mk big puppy eyes.
Mk broke, she couldn't handle these eyes. She would never get how Ronin could say no to her. Mk set Mari down on the table. "Let me get my things" she smiled.
