Elgar stared at the redheaded minx over a cup of what she called 'tea'. He had never had this supposed 'tea' before, but it tasted acceptable.

This 'Mariana' made him uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the way she would smirk at him and randomly snicker for seemingly no reason. Perhaps it was the way her eyes, which were the same shade of green as an Epet berry, seemed to stare straight into his soul. Perhaps it was the way she would reply to his advanced vocabulary with complete comprehension, despite her age. When he had answered caustically at first, she had given him a mysterious smile as if she already knew his reaction before hand. It was... unsettling. 

There was no way for her to know him. Elgar had lived in the forest with his grandfather for all his life, only visiting nearby clans in Fae Land for supplies. Very few people knew of his residence in the forest, and even then they weren't the type to tell tales.

It was quiet but for the slurping sound of them drinking. Elgar observed as Mariana's fingers twitched and her head bobbed to a music only she could hear. A gust of wind flattened the grass around them, but her hair stayed perfectly still where it hung loose around her shoulders.

With a clink, she set down her drink and smiled at him in a predatory manner. He suppressed a shiver.

"Soooo..." she drawled in an imitation of his earlier tone. "Where do you live, Minion?"

He twitched, dark eyes narrowing. "Around. And I'm not your minion."

"Alone, Minion?"

"No."

"With a girlfriend, then? Minion."

"I'm four! And I'm not your Minion!"

"Pshaw! Never stopped me!" She guffawed.

Elgar was mildly concerned by that statement. He didn't know her, but she was quite young, young enough to raise a few eyebrows at least.

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"Wouldn't any man willing to consort with you be unseemly?" he asked.

"Are you saying I'm ugly, Minion?" she said, offended.

"You're four."

"So are you." She paused for a second. "Minion."

Elgar sighed and resisted the urge to massage his head. He was to young to have stress.

"Besides, who said it was a man?" she said, winking at him. Her hair seemed to grow shorter, her eyes more fox-like, and suddenly he was staring at a boy of sixteen years.

Elgar snapped his fingers and a bright light flashed, revealing the girl he had first met under the illusion. "Nice try. Only those who studied biology extensively can physically change shape, and even then, only temporarily."

"I'd be offended, but I'm currently soaking in two tons of pure awesomeness." she deadpanned.

Suddenly, she stood up and grabbed his hand, dragging him behind her.

"Where are we going?" Elgar asked.

"Your house."

"How do you know where I live?" Elgar said, alarmed.

"It smells like you."

Smell? What is she, a Beastman?

When they arrived at a ramshackle hut, she turned around and patted his head. "I'll come back, Minion."

"I'm not your Minion!"

"Who said you were mine?" And with that baffling statement, she disappeared. 

Elgar stared at where she just was, and suppressed another shudder at her declaration that she would return. Perhaps it won't be so bad, he thought. A sudden instinct had him checking his pocket, and he cursed words no four year old should know when he realized his ten pence were missing. And perhaps I'll jump off a cliff.