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Winter
John had a thought and smiled to himself. The midwinter preparations would be well underway in the King's Realm. Maybe he could convince the pixie to come to the market with him.
"Okay. Can we bring home gifts for the chickens?" Winter asked, holding his tea in both hands and perching himself on a chair close by.
"I guess I could get you a present too," Winter grinned impishly. "I will buy you a goat."
"...Yes," Winter replied, avoiding answering at all.
"I dunno," Winter admitted, putting his tea down and moving to sit right beside John.
"It'll be nice spending the holiday with someone," he admitted.
"Yes! Cakes and sweets, and sometimes shiny items to trade," the pixie beamed. "Though I have only been invited once. My village is long gone, and no others wanted me," he added, smile fading a bit. "...This year will be good though. I have you."
And gosh was he smitten. He knew John saw him as a charge or a kid, but Winter did not look at John like a father or brother. ...He just didn't really know how to express that. He got flustered or overexcited, and he knew that only made him look more childish. But he wasn't a youth, he was very grown- He was just also a pixie, and pixies always had a youthful joy to them.
"I would like that," Winter nodded. "I would like it very much."
Winter grinned, reaching to touch it, then thinking better of it and keeping his hands to himself.
"The best! I'll get dressed and we can go," he decided.
Winter returned wearing a thick jumper and a proper pair of trousers. Q's old clothes. He grabbed his coat off the rack, but his gloves were nowhere to be seen.
"I'm ready!"
"Chestnuts!" Winter said excitedly, still fighting a bit with his hat. "They smell so good. I didn't know I was hungry."
Winter caught John's hand and tugged him along, certain he knew where the smell was coming from.
"That's the one," he grinned. "We can share a bag."
"All sorts," Winter said, eating a chestnut. "And we like not shiny stuff too. Furry things, soft things, comfy things. ...We just like stuff. The gift matters less than being gifted," he admitted.
"What sort of things do grumpy old warlocks like, huh?"
Winter made a mental note of that. He could find those things, he was sure of it.
"I see," he replied. "You have weird taste," he teased, bumping John's shoulder with his own.
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