Not every second mom could be like Elmyra, Aerith knew that. But this stepmom was really a piece of work! She'd done twice the chores and helped her sisters get ready for the festival, but still couldn't go? Unfair. Not just unfair, but really rude after her stepmom had promised twice that Aerith could go after chores! Just because a girl didn't have a fancy dress... Hey, she worked hard just to keep this one clean, what with everyone always throwing her food in the ashes.
...Okay, the fact that she had enough time to get into unhappy thoughts meant something was up. Aerith cracked one eye open, glancing up from her praying pose at the branches of the hazel tree she'd planted on her real mom's grave for her memory. (Someone had suggested, when she planted it, that she water it with her tears, but she had a very sensible watering can for that, thank you. Ifalna wouldn't want to see her cry THAT much.)
Hmmmmmmm. No little white bird in the branches. Maybe he hadn't heard her? So Aerith shut her eyes again and asked again:
"Shiver and quiver, my little tree, silver and gold throw down over me."
Sure, it sounded like a pretty tall order, but this was a pretty clever bird. (She still wasn't sure how he'd gotten that string of tulip bulbs for her secret garden, but considering how the Dutch were going crazy over them she figured she'd better Not Ask.) He was such a helpful fellow too! She figured he'd at least tell her if this was the straw to break the fairy godmother's back. Except...their house was next to that old wood. The old, great, pretty-but-kind-of-scary woods. Wasn't there a big old wolf in there? Ohhhh, she hoped he hadn't run into any trouble out there...
Giving up praying, she rose to her feet and called out for her mysterious little helper, loud, clear, and a little worried: "Mister Bird?"
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Not every second mom could be like Elmyra, Aerith knew that. But this stepmom was really a piece of work! She'd done twice the chores and helped her sisters get ready for the festival, but still couldn't go? Unfair. Not just unfair, but really rude after her stepmom had promised twice that Aerith could go after chores! Just because a girl didn't have a fancy dress... Hey, she worked hard just to keep this one clean, what with everyone always throwing her food in the ashes.
...Okay, the fact that she had enough time to get into unhappy thoughts meant something was up. Aerith cracked one eye open, glancing up from her praying pose at the branches of the hazel tree she'd planted on her real mom's grave for her memory. (Someone had suggested, when she planted it, that she water it with her tears, but she had a very sensible watering can for that, thank you. Ifalna wouldn't want to see her cry THAT much.)
Hmmmmmmm. No little white bird in the branches. Maybe he hadn't heard her? So Aerith shut her eyes again and asked again:
"Shiver and quiver, my little tree, silver and gold throw down over me."
Sure, it sounded like a pretty tall order, but this was a pretty clever bird. (She still wasn't sure how he'd gotten that string of tulip bulbs for her secret garden, but considering how the Dutch were going crazy over them she figured she'd better Not Ask.) He was such a helpful fellow too! She figured he'd at least tell her if this was the straw to break the fairy godmother's back. Except...their house was next to that old wood. The old, great, pretty-but-kind-of-scary woods. Wasn't there a big old wolf in there? Ohhhh, she hoped he hadn't run into any trouble out there...
Giving up praying, she rose to her feet and called out for her mysterious little helper, loud, clear, and a little worried: "Mister Bird?"
[ Cinderella, from here. ...Yes. ]