Request for Artisan-Garden
Your large pad of sketch paper rested on your knees as you observed the winter wonderland around you. Icicles hung from bare trees and the snow surrounding your park bench was free from any footprints aside from yours and the animals' from the night before.
A puff of air was visible as you sighed contently, closing your eyes and drawing what came to mind.
Unsure of what you were sketching out, you winked open one eye to see a staff. It's top was oddly shaped, curving into a blocky crescent shape each time your pencil created a knot in the wood. You stared down at the staff, tilting your head to the side as you tried to imagine what it was and where you had seen it.
But before your brain could even begin to think of names or reasons, a chilled gust of wind blew the pad out of your grip.
Frantically, you slipped your boot-clad feet out from under you. "No!" you shouted at the frigid air, hopping off of your bench and breaking through the fresh snow to snatch your heavy pad of paper from the apparently very strong wind. Stumbling through the knee-high snow in your soaked jeans, you tripped over some fallen branch and slipped into the soft ground. Sniffing, you sat on your knees, numb to the cold already. You glared at the thing that had gotten under your feet.
A lone branch of twisted, gray wood had gotten kicked up by your feet. Furrowing your brows, you tugged the branch from under the snow. You briefly saw the curved head of the branch before a voice pulled you out of your trance.
"Hey!" the voice shouted, sounding alarmed and angry. You turned and saw a boy about your age running towards you. His shaggy white hair was away from his face by the force of him running and his pale cheeks were rosy from the cold. His pants ended a few inches over his bare feet.
Shocked, you dropped the staff and raised your hands, scared to move even as you felt the pencil rock from behind your ear. A cold breeze blew down your neck where you had pulled up your hair in a sloppy bun and you cringed, rolling your neck and hunching your shoulders.
The teen sent you a stern glare before snatching up the staff from where you had dropped it. When he looked at you again, he seemed more shocked than anything.
Peering at you with his icy blue eyes and the hint of a smirk on his face. "You can see me?" One of his dark eyebrows lowered and he almost seemed amused with the idea of you seeing him.
"Yes?" You had stretched the word out, unsure whether or not it was the answer the teen wanted.
The smirk grew into a curious little smile, "And," he paused, running his eyes over your body, "how old are you?"
You puffed out your chest and pouted, "I am 18, thank you very much."
The boy laughed, falling back into the snow. "Of course you are." He took a deep breath of air, "What's your name?"
Your (e/c) eyes narrowed. "Why does it matter to you?"
Slowly you stood, sighing at the sight of your soaked jeans just before the freezing sensation hit you, you glanced around for your sketch pad as the stranger answered.
"It's just a question," he teased before noticing your head swiveling around and your constant circles. "Are- are you looking for something?"
Pausing in your search, you looked up at the slightly taller boy, "As a matter of fact, I am. And I was doing a rather fantastic job of it until your little walking stick over there tripped me."
He looked offended, "Wa-walking stick?" Holding out the object in question, he corrected you, "This is a staff. Much cooler."
"Mhm," you resumed your search, "Well it looks like a walking stick."
Not bothering to listen to his continued protests, you started walking in the direction you last saw your sketch pad go. That is, before the voice interrupted your thoughts again. "Oh. Are you- are you looking for this?"
Turning your head to face him, you saw a slightly damp, well-used pad of paper in one of his calloused hands. You jumped at him, ignoring the numbness of your waist-down.
"Give that back!"
Laughing, he held it over your head, staff in the other hand behind his back. "Only if you make a deal with me."
You stopped jumping and narrowed your eyes again. "What sort of deal?"