Erimead

The Old Goose

    MADELINE STEPS into the wooden hut, and Finnick follows her in, giving her back a little push for her to continue. The old lady sits at the table, her chair facing the yellowing glass window, and she turns to Madeline when she walks closer. "Hullo," Madeline says quietly. "Um...my name is Madeline, and I'm not completely sure how I got here. Finnick saved me from the jumpers and took me here because he said you would be able to get me back to my home."

"Where is home?" She asks in a frail voice, gently touching the ends of her sparse white hair with her yellowish fingertips. "London," Madeline tells her. "London England." The old lady pats the chair beside her, motioning for Madeline to sit. Obediently, she takes the seat and faces her.

"Home is where you want to go?" She asks. "Yes," Madeline sighs. "Very much so."

The old lady takes Madeline's hand and examines it, lifting it close to her face. Her small grey eyes widen as she turns it over. "Home is not a place you want to be." She breathes. "What's that mean?" Madeline asks. "Is it not safe?" The old lady licks her dry lips. "No, it is safe, but is not the place." Madeline taps her fingers against her knee. "Could you be more specific?" She asks. "I cannot get you home." She pauses. "You are the only one that can do it."

"But how? How do I do that? How do I get home?" She pushes. Shaking her head, the old lady gets up from her seat slowly. "I don't have the answer. You have the answer in you." Finnick goes over to the woman's side, and helps her to the next room. "You don't have any advice?" Finnick asks desperately. "No," she responds simply, and with that, she closes the door, leaving Finnick and Madeline completely and utterly clueless.

"I'm sorry," Finnick apologizes, rubbing the nape of his neck. "I thought she'd be able to help-" "it's okay, it's not your fault," Madeline interrupts. "Believe it or not, but that was the most straight forward, full on conversation anyone has had with her for quite some time." Madeline laughs at this.

"You know," She tells him, changing the subject, "It's adorable how the kids call you Finney." "Yeah," Finnick sighs, running his hand through his hair. "It is, isn't it"

⌛︎⌛︎⌛︎

Sleeping on one of the spare beds in the hut was surprisingly comfortable for Madeline, and in the morning she found a pair of soft black leggings, and a new navy blouse sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting to be worn.

When she wanders into the kitchen after she had gotten dressed, and combed her hair, she finds Finnick sitting at the small round table by himself, drinking a steaming glass of a strange grey liquid. Though she had read about him, this morning she could barely recognize him. His dark clothes seem new, and his dusty chocolate brown hair had been washed and combed into a quite attractive style. Though she did not want to admit it, he looked extremely handsome.

"Where is everyone?" She asks. Finnick's head snaps up in her direction. He gapes at her for a moment, looking down at her new navy blouse, and then shakes his head. "Oh, the kids get up really early in the morning to play in the woods."

"And you?" Madeline says sitting down on an old wooden stool. "I stay here and do nothing." Madeline shakes her head. "That sounds quite boring." "It is indeed," he tells her. "But not when you have a steaming cup of black-fireberry tea."

"Fireberry tea?"
"Black fireberry tea. Taste some." Finnick pours the steaming liquid from a kettle, into a chipped white mug. The grey coloured liquid doesn't look too appetizing in the eyes of Madeline, but she decides to give it a try anyway. As she swallows the tea, a warm furry feeling builds up inside her, making her feel sleepy and calm. She takes another sip of the sweet liquid, and lets it soothe her insides.

"This is really good," she tells him. He grins, and takes another sip of his own tea. Once she's finished she places her mug by the rusted sink, and slides her hair tie off her wrist, beginning to tie her hair into a messy bun. For some crazy reason Madeline starts to feel an odd sensation, like being watched. Something burning into her back.

She spins on her heel, and faces Finnick who looks away so fast that it looked painful. He clears his throat loudly, and noisily stands up from his seat, tripping over the leg of the stool accidentally. "I'm going to go-" he points to the window, "outside to call the kids." He walks walks over to the door, and looks back for a split second, only to hit his foot against the plastic frame, causing his side to hit it as well. He pushes himself off, and continues his way outside. As he gets further, Madeline can hear Finnick quietly cursing under his breath.

Madeline stands there for a moment, puzzled. She slides her hair tie back on her wrist, not really wanting to tie her hair up anymore. "Wow," says a voice from the other side of the room. Madeline places her hand on her heart, turning to face the boy. "Oh, Harry, you scared me."

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. "You know, he never acts like this around other girls." Madeline finds that rather hard to believe. "Aren't there any other girls around here?" Harry shrugs. "Yeah, well of course, but he doesn't act like this around them. And plus, their all younger than him. Finney's the oldest of our pack. "I didn't know that," Madeline tells Harry truthfully.

"He's sort of like a father figure to all the younger ones, he's been taking care of them since the day we found them." Madeline smiles at the thought. "You know, he's been talking about-"

Harry was about to finish his sentence, when a younger boy that looked about ten, runs into the hut screaming. "Where's Finney?" He cries. "Why? What happened?" Madeline asks.

The little boys eyes brim with tears, and his bottom lip begins to quiver. "We were just playing hide and go seek," he whispers. "And she just disappeared." Madeline switches to panic mode. "Who? Finnick?" The boy begins to wail. "No. The Jumpers, they-they took Padmé."

"Where's Finnick?" Madeline whispers to Harry. "We need to get Finnick."