Calan
Calan tilts his head at Mother and Father in almost the same moment Carlo does, because somehow Fern says the words like they are wearing nicer clothes than usual. Capital letters at the front, proper shoes, clothes without wrinkles. It does not fit neatly with dad, or dads, or the many other more useful names one might shout across a room depending on who is closest and what has just been broken, but Fern has also turned from a girl into a bird and back again, so Calan is willing to accept that her house might simply have different rules.
He glances after the departing Hel when Fern asks about it, still blinking away the last little sparks from the back of his eyes, and nods solemnly when Carlo provides the important answer. "Bird," he confirms, because that is a perfectly good name for a bird and also difficult to forget in an emergency. "Bird is an independent contractor for certain jobs." This seems generous, really. Bird has not been hired, paid, or helpful, but it did arrive with confidence, and Calan respects that.
When Fern offers both hands, Calan reaches for one at nearly the same time as his brother reaches for the other, accepting the help up with as much dignity as he can manage after being part of a landing pad. Once on his feet, he brushes both palms down the front of his pants, then gives one knee an experimental bend to make sure it still works. It does, mostly, so he decides not to worry about the rest. There are pretzels nearby, Fern is successfully acquired, and no adults have yet appeared to ask the wrong kind of questions, which means the plan is still in excellent condition.
At the mention of her house being crazy, Calan’s attention sharpens at once. His head tips to the side, curiosity bright across his face "Our house has ghosts in it sometimes," he offers helpfully, because maybe that will make her feel less awkward about sharing. "Mostly our nonna when she comes to babysit." He says it very plainly, as though babysitting ghosts are a normal household feature.
He glances after the departing Hel when Fern asks about it, still blinking away the last little sparks from the back of his eyes, and nods solemnly when Carlo provides the important answer. "Bird," he confirms, because that is a perfectly good name for a bird and also difficult to forget in an emergency. "Bird is an independent contractor for certain jobs." This seems generous, really. Bird has not been hired, paid, or helpful, but it did arrive with confidence, and Calan respects that.
When Fern offers both hands, Calan reaches for one at nearly the same time as his brother reaches for the other, accepting the help up with as much dignity as he can manage after being part of a landing pad. Once on his feet, he brushes both palms down the front of his pants, then gives one knee an experimental bend to make sure it still works. It does, mostly, so he decides not to worry about the rest. There are pretzels nearby, Fern is successfully acquired, and no adults have yet appeared to ask the wrong kind of questions, which means the plan is still in excellent condition.
At the mention of her house being crazy, Calan’s attention sharpens at once. His head tips to the side, curiosity bright across his face "Our house has ghosts in it sometimes," he offers helpfully, because maybe that will make her feel less awkward about sharing. "Mostly our nonna when she comes to babysit." He says it very plainly, as though babysitting ghosts are a normal household feature.
I've never been one to half-ass shenanigans.
