BREEZE. AGAIN. SERIOUSLY. STAHP WITH THE NEW STORIES.
Heh, yeah. Anyway. Another story. But I'm sure I'm going to update more often.
So yeah. Read and enjoy!
In Aunt Helena's Orphanage, you didn't cry. It wasn't that you were happy or anything like that. You just weren't supposed to cry. Aunt Helena hated crying, the orphans said. She said it upset her. And nobody dared make her upset. That was why young Daniel of seven years old only cried at bedtime.
Bedtime was always at 8:30, no matter what the day. Aunt Helena gathered all the children up from dinner, which ended at about 8:25. She herded them to the large bedroom, full of less than comfortable cots, and flipped the light off once they were all inside, leaving the orphans to wallow in the darkness. Once everybody was settled - once everything went silent - Daniel began to shed his tears. He had to bite his lip - hard - to keep himself from making any noise, should someone hear him. Some nights it didn't work, though, and a few whimpers would escape into the silent night.
One night, there was a light thump by the open window across the room. "Cén fáth a bhfuil tú ag caoineadh?" someone asked. Why are you crying? Daniel sniffed. He sat up, wiping his eyes. Who had said that, he wondered. The boy looked over at the window. His eyes widened and he gasped.
"Níl gá le scanraithe," said the girl who sat at the window in a comforting tone before Daniel could even begin to scream. No need to be scared. The moonlight caught her orange hair, giving it a little white sheen. Daniel watched her, surprised.
"Tá tú Óga Molly Bawn." You're Young Molly Bawn. The girl nodded.
"Can you speak English?" Daniel asked. Aunt Helena had all the children take lessons from a tutor to learn the language, though he preferred Irish much more.
Again Molly nodded. She crossed her legs. Then she tilted her head. "Who are you?" she asked Daniel, not acknowledging the fact that they had switched languages.
Daniel cleared his throat. "Daniel," he responded. "Daniel Rogers. Well, that's what everybody calls me." He looked at his shoes.
"Do you like that last name? Rogers?" Molly asked. Daniel lifted a shoulder.
"It's kind of stupid, but I sometimes say my last name is Stark," he admitted. "You know, like the american superhero in the comics? Iron Man? His secret identity is Tony Stark."
The look on Molly's face made Daniel fall silent, bereft of the inspiration to continue. "Do you like that last name?" she asked, completely abandoning his explanation. He nodded.
"Then you are Daniel Stark," Molly decided, an optimistic smile on her face. Daniel nodded again, her good nature strangling his foul mood.
"Is that how you chose your last name? Bawn?" Daniel asked. He thought about sitting on the floor but decided not to.
Molly nodded. "I liked the sound of that name," she replied. "Bawn." Her face developed a shadowed look, as if she were remembering something.
Daniel was about to try and get her attention when he heard a low growl. He jumped in surprise as a white wolf appeared, padding to rest beside Molly. She smiled, the shady look from earlier gone.
"Hello, Isha." Lightly the girl rubbed the top of the wolf's head. The wolf, supposedly named Isha, relaxed a bit. It gave Daniel a not-so-friendly look. Then, to his surprise, Isha jumped down and sniffed at the boy, suspiciously.
"Who...who is this?" Daniel asked, watching Isha sniff him thoroughly. Molly smiled. "This is Isha. She's my dearest friend."
Daniel's mind went blank. He asked with a dry throat, "Your best friend is a wolf?"
Molly nodded. She patted the windowsill and Isha jumped right back up. "Haven't you heard the song?" she asked him. When he shook his head she sighed.
"O poor, young Molly Bawn, travels with wolf and with song," Molly stated. She patted Isha's back lightly. "The wolf I travel with."
Daniel nodded, sheepishly. "Oh." He looked up at Molly. "How long have you been traveling?"
"For a while now," replied Molly. "A long while." She smiled a little, and Daniel could see flecks of remorse hidden all throughout her features. He wondered why she looked so sad. Then Isha whimpered, nudging Molly lightly. She was shaken out of her silence then. Changing the subject Molly asked, "Why were you crying?"
"I-I wasn't crying," Daniel stammered, caught by surprise. He didn't meet Molly's eyes, and hoped she couldn't tell he was lying.
The girl snorted. He could hear her leaning forward on the sill, and when Daniel raised his head he came nose to nose with Molly. Her stare - light blue like the afternoon sky - was unblinking.
"I saw you," Molly stated. "I heard you. And you were crying." She tilted her head a fifth of an inch. "Why were you crying?"
Daniel hesitated. He took a deep breath and then let it out. "I never knew my parents," he whispered. "I don't know anything about my family. That's why I'm here. Aunt Helena - the head of the orphanage," he explained when Molly's look went confused, "- says we're still amazing in our own way." The boy sighed, dropping his gaze for a second time. "There's nothing amazing about me," he muttered.
"Huh, funny. I never knew my parents either," Molly noted. She leaned back on her hands. "Raised by wolves I was. Up in the mountains." She jerked a thumb behind her.
"The mountains?" Daniel repeated in awe. Molly nodded, and smiled at his face, which reflected his amazement. "Wow." He paused before asking, "How cold is it?"
Their conversation continued for at least a half hour. For the first time in a while Daniel felt like more than just the average orphan.
Finally, after they finished talking about the best adventures they'd ever experienced during their life, Daniel realized how tired he was.
Daniel yawned suddenly. He rubbed his eyes. "Tired?" Molly guessed. He nodded.
"You should go to bed," Molly suggested. Daniel nodded again. He murmured goodnight, then left the window in a sleepy shuffle.
"Hey." Daniel turned around to look at Molly. "Don't cry anymore, okay?" Now half awake, Daniel nodded again. Molly smiled a bit. "Now go to sleep, Daniel Stark."
Daniel nodded for a fourth time. He turned around again and made it to his bed. He collapsed on the rough textured cot. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was a lone wolf howl.
And that is your lovely first chapter. Review please, follow, favorite, subscribe. :3