Sun and Singing

The snow had finally began clearing, leaving only patches here and there of white frozen joy that Marki had had quite enough of. She liked to be outside, but her boots were constantly wet nowadays, which made for unhappy campers. But with the warmth came everything Marki liked. Clear weather, singing birds, and, better yet, dry socks.

So Marki made her way out during the first break after breakfast. She did have snow boots on despite the lack of snow, pulled on over her brown corduroy jeans- corduroy never went out of style in Marki's opinion- and she was wearing her ugly Christmas sweater. It was mustard yellow with a large cat face on the front. The cat was incredibly fuzzy as it was made up of large grey, pink and white cotton balls and was even complete with whiskers, black strings that hung from the pink cluster that served as the cat's nose. A red felt Santa's hat sat atop the cat's head, a bell at the top that jingled as she she stumbled down the path. She sung quietly, “Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, everything that's wonderful is what I feel a-when we're together! Brighter than a lucky penny, when you're near the rainclouds disappear and I feel so fi-iiine! Just to know that you are mine!”

She stumbled in the large boots and walked down towards the lake, Jeremiah, her majestic bullfrog, straining in her hands. She released him in the mud and he began to splash about. A large log had washed ashore and she worked on dragging it out of the water, her large sleeves getting in her way, humming the song as she worked. Finally she pulled it out onto the bank and flipped it over so that it was dry-side up. She gazed at her work and promptly flopped, back first, onto the log.

She fidgeted, probably creating a lot of loose threads on the back of her sweater and getting bark in her hair, until she was sitting on her back on the log. She hummed loudly and saw a few birds alighting on a branch nearby to stare at her. She fell quiet. She had learned that the birds here at Hogwarts were rather friendly if you were quiet and friendless. The former was usually the only reason they did not approach her, but she had gotten quite used to the little birds. To the point that they were friendly enough to come and sit around and on her. She was a regular Snow White.... minus the dwarfs, prince, and normal behavior...

She watched the birds begin to gather, staring at her as she stared right back. Funny. It was a strikingly similar to the way her social situation with humans usually ended up. She would make some sort of scene and they would stare and she would stare right back. However, the birds weren't leaving.. We're practically friends! She smiled and started to sing a song from a musical she had watched. “They like me. I think their swell. Isn't is remarkable, how things turn out so well? Pleasant day, pretty sky. Life goes on, here I lie. Not bad. Not bad at all...”

She started the forget the rest of the words so she fell silent. She closed her eyes and pulled a biscuit out of her pocket, nibbling on it. Suddenly, she felt little feet on her stomach. She opened her eyes and saw a bird on her. She held out the biscuit and it began to nibble it. She began breaking up the biscuit and more birds joined the first, hopping around her stomach, their claws snagging her sweater and disfiguring the kitty on her sweater.

She had been right to leave the confines of the castle. She had almost driven herself up the wall trying to figure out something to do. She had worked on a puzzle for awhile but had ended up just cutting the pieces to fit the ways she thought they were supposed to. It had turned out looking Picasso chic. And then was there was the model broom she had bought. She managed to turn it into a triceratops. Then she had went caroling down in the kitchens for the house elves... She had been kicked out.

A bird's claw went through her sweater and she began to continue the song from the musical. “Little birds. Come to cheer me. Every day... sitting here... On my stomach.” She winced at another claw scratch. “With their sharp little claws... Which are usually cold. And occasionally painful.” Her eyes opened and widened. There were about a half dozen of them on her stomach. “And sometimes there are so many. That's I can hardly stand it! Rats!”

She flailed her arms and legs, rocking on the log which caused the log to rock in the mud, sending mud flinging everywhere. The birds let out shrieks of alarm and frenzy and rose into the air, screeching and flying off to the trees as Marki sat up and brushed off her kitten Christmas sweater with dignity, the bell jingling. She stared after the birds and pulled at her collar and sitting back down. She stared after them, a disgruntled look on her face and then it relaxed. ”Not bad... Not bad at all.”

She felt a poke on her side and turned her head to look over at the lake, where a large orange tentacle was protruding out of the water. She rolled over and smiled brightly at the tentacle. “Franklin! Oh, hot dog! It's been awhile! It got cold for awhile, doll, I couldn't say hi because the edge of the water was frozen over. But it's great to see ya, babe!” She patted the tentacle and it retreated back into the water and she waved good bye.

She rolled back onto her back and grimaced, pulling a stick from under her back and then dropping it into the mud. Jeremiah croaked loudly and she smirked. “Oh, stop your whining. You're a spoiled brat you know that?” He croaked again. “Fine, fine, you're not. You're my best friend.” Perhaps this was a tad depressing, but before she could feel too bad, another bird landed on her stomach. She stared at it. “One, I can deal with.” She stared at the bird and not long after, another landed behind it. She flailed madly again and they took off. The log rolled over and she scrambled to the side, managing to save herself from the mud. She stood on top of the log on all fours, staring down at the bark and panting.

She rolled over onto her back and stayed rigid before relaxing and closing her eyes contentedly, the sun beginning to warm her face. “Hakuna Matata. What a wonderful phrase...”