This time he was sitting in a tree, munching an apple and dangling his legs insolently.
"Why are you still here?" she demanded.
He laughed. "Oh, for this reason and that one. Fancy an apple? I've got plenty."
"But what reasons?" She was beginning to get very vexed with him.
"Oh, that. Well, there are too many of them for me to tell even the ravens, and they can listen for hours when they've a mind to. The long and the short of it is that I'm a wizard." He took another bite of apple.
"You can't be!"
"Oh, can't I?"
"No! You haven't got a robe."
"And who said wizards have to wear robes?"
"Well, you haven't got a hat!"
"And?" He appeared greatly amused by her confusion, and he laughed when she scowled at him.
"Well--well--you just can't be, that's all!"
"Oh, all right, then. But if I'm not a wizard, then I can't tell you why I'm here." He winked and swung higher up the tree, out of sight.
"Wait!"
"You're very indecisive, you know that?" He reappeared, hanging upside down from a high branch.
- - -
Now he was in the kitchen, sitting on the table and munching another apple, or maybe the same one. When she came in, he grinned as if at some private joke.
She slammed her hand on the table near him, and was further irritated when he didn't flinch. "You'll be in trouble when Mother gets home, you know. Mother doesn't approve of this sort of thing."
"Oh, I doubt I'll have too much trouble with your mother. Do you have any cold cider? I'm parched."
"Right, I suppose you'll use your wizardly powers," and she rolled her eyes.
"I don't think it will come to that. I'm rather charming, you know."
Which was even more infuriating, because it was true.
"You're just saying that because you're not really a wizard. You won't use your powers because you don't have any."
He shook his head with an air of disappointment, though his grin never left his face. "Still on about that, are you? Oh dear. I believe I've already disposed of the illusion that I require a robe, hat, or wand. What is it now?"
"Well--look, why did you have to ask about the cider, then? You should just know! Better yet, conjure up your own drink!"
He dropped his apple core carelessly on the table. "That would be a dreadful waste. There are better ways of using magic, you know. And you never did answer me, anyway."
"You're just an arrogant boy, that's what you are! You don't deserve any cider!" She felt a bit silly, having said this, but she tried to look stern anyway.
"Well, well." He contrived to look affronted. "If you're going to be like that, I'll get my refreshment somewhere else." He jumped up and swung a leg over the window sill.
"But--" For some reason, she suddenly wanted him to stay. At least until her mother got home, she amended, so she could watch her rage at him.
"Farewell, fair maiden." And he was, suddenly and irrevocably, gone.
A few minutes after he left, she remembered the apple core. When she reached for it, however, it was gone. In its place was a bracelet of some unknown material, a simple bangle of gold-veined red. When she slipped it on, a seed fell onto the table.
She stared out the window for several minutes. Then she went out to milk the cows, wondering.
He was standing in snow halfway to his knees, and his scarf, which was far too long, whipped around him in the wind. The snow collected on his shoulders and in his hair, and fell into his pockets when he held them open, but he didn't seem to be cold.
As she watched, he scooped up a handful of the whiteness, despite the fact that he wore no gloves.
"You shouldn't do that."
He turned, smiled at her. "Why not, my dear lady?"
"You'll get frostbite, or some such. It's like putting your hand in a bucket of ice water."
"Is it really?" He looked surprised. "Learn something new every day, I suppose." He turned his hand over and watched the snow fall, fluttering down to become indistinguishable from anything else. "And who are you, who is so wise in the ways of winter?"
"Stella." She felt, absurdly, that he was mocking her--perhaps because she had been so often mocked in the past. But he seemed perfectly pleasant. "And you?"
"I'm William, when I choose to be myself. There have been times that I've had to be somebody different, but I think those days are over." He thrust his hands into his pockets and leaned back, staring up at the grey sky. "Walk with me, Stella, won't you? I could use the company." He looked over at her. "If you don't mind terribly, that is."
He walked strangely in the snow, lifting each leg entirely above the surface before plunging it back in. Nevertheless, she found herself struggling to keep up with him. "So what are you doing in this town?"
"Oh...nothing, really." And she looked at him and knew, absolutely knew, that he would tell her nothing more on the subject no matter how she pressed.
They walked in silence for a while, watching the snow muffle the world. And neither minded the silence.
Hey, I was in my usual 'asti boredom' phase and saw your post, this was incredible!! You've got some writing skillz :P
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