This is a good question, and it’s one that I had to answer early on when developing the sprites if I wanted to get anywhere, since they can live in wintry climates just as often as warmer ones. The sprites do use a Prayer to get warmth, though it has some caveats to it. They have to be Praying over a living tree, and preferably one that has already been influenced by the Prayers to shape it into a home. It can heat up the wood and, depending on the shape they are using, provide the heat they need for boiling water for tea or baking pastries (usually acorn flour pastries, but this depends on what’s available to the sprites; some can get actual wheat).

For a demonstration of the use of this, there’s a reference to it in my short story “Keeping Warm” (x). I’ll also provide a snippet from an unfinished story below, featuring an herbalist named Kayra and her son, Cress.


Kayra kept herself busy, working quickly to get something ready for the poor sprout. The child may have improved in leaps and bounds since she’d first heard his worrisome coughing, but there was a quiet urgency in her movements. Kayra couldn’t stand to let the boy suffer any longer than he had to. She took the water from Cress and carefully poured it into her basin of crushed up dried plants.

She didn’t even have to ask before Cress was at her side with a smooth, straight stick that Kayra took with a grateful smile. She ruffled his hair before setting to mixing the solution in the water, giving the liquid a cloudy, greyish-green color.

Next came a slightly trickier step. Kayra was exhausted, but she had enough energy in her to say a Prayer that most sprites knew by necessity. She placed her hands on the counter top on either side of her basin of water. “Earth Spirit, Lady of Life. I ask for warmth.” As the Spirit’s magic flowed through Kayra into the living tree surrounding them, the sprite took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and sighed.

Trees were hard to shape into homes or stairs, due to their stalwart natures. They changed their shapes only after a sprite put in a lot of time and energy, but it wasn’t nearly as difficult to influence them to direct heat. The basin and the counter top around it grew hot and Kayra took her hands away, stirring the concoction occasionally.

Cress inhaled a deep breath as the medicine’s scent began to creep into the main room. He padded over to a shelf near the dining table, warped crevices dipping into the wall. He retrieved some wooden bowls and his wings fanned opened and closed a few times as he resumed helping his mother.

It only took a few more minutes for Kayra to nod in approval to herself. The broth was ready. She saw Cress waiting patiently with bowls and smiled at him. “Sweet boy. Thank you,” she told him. In moments the medicine was portioned out. The sprites approached the weary, bundled up guests, each with a container cradled in their hands.

Changing Hands (3/5)

Welcome back to the sad Oscar AU. The unfortunate adventure continues for the little guy, as another upset in his new normal changes things again.

Mina’s part was written by @nightmares06, who graciously helped to bring even more terror to Oscar’s life.

(x)


The sound of Thomas knocking at the door died off, leaving him standing in the cooling afternoon air. The distant bustle of people at the out-of-the way hotel the meeting with Mina was set up for reached Oscar in his small box, all the sounds of life in the human world as they went about their day, never knowing the pain he endured.

Cars drove by on the distant road, birds shrieked offense at the restaurant goers that didn’t share their food. A placid setting for Oscar’s life as it continued spiraling out of his control.

Metal scraped on the inside of the door and a latch clicked open, and the tall door swung wide, a warm grin to greet Thomas at the ready.

“Thomas, dear,” Mina said as she beckoned him into the room. “Punctual as always.”

Thomas gave a noncommittal grunt in reply as he entered the room hastily. He knew as well as Mina that it was much better for their meeting to be as discreet as possible. “Traffic was on our side,” he quipped once he was inside.

Inside the box held in his hand, Oscar shrank into his corner as far as he could. Thomas was always so casual. His familiar tone with the new human settled ice in Oscar’s middle. The man had done this many times before.

The box suddenly lifted up to eye level and Thomas spoke again. “Nori got a little attached to this one so he might be a little spoiled, but I don’t foresee many problems with him.”

“We can always fix that,” Mina said dismissively. She double-locked the door once more to keep her business private, standard procedure for when she operated out of hotel rooms. It was more low class than she was used to, but whatever got the job done these days.

There was a stylish purse sitting on the small table set to the side of the door, and Mina went over to the bag, slipping an elegantly manicured hand inside. “Let’s take a look at him now, shall we?” she said, her voice steel beneath the deceptive warmth she exuded.

Oscar shuddered, and then let out a startled squeak as the box moved around him yet again. This time, the lid lifted away, bringing more fresh air than the simple holes cut in the top and more light from the motel room’s lamps.

Oscar prepared for a hand to come into view above him, but instead everything outside the box shifted quickly again. He couldn’t stop his tumble as it all turned sideways and then upside down, releasing him onto Thomas’ palm instead. He landed with a quiet breath, and then immediately scrambled to curl himself into a protective ball again.

“Definitely an easier one to deal with,” Thomas commented, almost sounding bored. He’d met Mina enough times to have something of a routine with visits like this; this time, he didn’t even need to hold the little guy down.

“Mm, yes,” Mina said mildly. She withdrew her hand from her purse, a small pocket magnifier pinched between her fingers. “A very mild one compared to your last batch.”

She leaned in close to Thomas’ hand. “He’s small,” she commented offhand as she beheld the curled ball. “There, there, little gem,” she said softly, reaching her empty hand for him. With expert practice, she managed to get a slim finger into his curl. “No need to be so scared, you won’t be hurt here.”

The words were kind but there was no empathy in her voice. She gently coaxed the tiny guy with her fingers, the magnifier held out so she could see him clearly.

January 11th excerpt:

Mark cried out in alarm as the hook sank its tooth in inches from where he was crouched. A second later, he felt the air shift behind him, and he whirled around to find the human peering at him through the gap in the chair.

Changing Hands (2/5)

Welcome back to the sad Oscar AU. The unfortunate adventure continues for the little guy, as another upset in his new normal changes things again.

(x)


Oscar’s first car ride had been terrifying, trapped in the plastic ice bucket. Then, he hadn’t had any idea where he was going or what might happen to him. The sounds of a car all around him had been foreign and strange reminders of his predicament.

This time, he knew what was next. Noriko and Thomas didn’t exactly talk to him, but when they talked over him he picked up more than enough information. He was for sale. Mina was the human who would buy him. For all of Noriko’s cooing and hugging him, fawning over how cute he was and pinching his face in her fingers, she was eager to make as much money as she could with him.

All that time, he’d tried to ignore it. He was being prepared, like some kind of fancy toy, to be presented to Mina so they could hope for the biggest payout.

For the first few minutes of the car ride, Oscar stared up at the top of his cramped prison. The holes cut there only let in sparse light, and a rare glimpse of Noriko’s face or her straight black hair. The box rocked from side to side every once in a while as she fidgeted with him in hand.

Oscar looked away as the trip wore on. His eyes stung, an all too familiar sensation these days. Tears brimmed and then raced down his cheeks in time with his breathing. He brushed them away on a sleeve, but then more tears burst forth and he sobbed. He couldn’t stop the despairing emotions from crashing over him.

Noriko never noticed his cries. She talked to Thomas, but Oscar drowned out her words. Their voices were like broken glass jabbing at him.

By the time the car came to a stop, Oscar had curled himself into a tiny, shuddering ball. The tears tapered off as he looked up, his eyes sore and scratchy. He always cried more when he thought he couldn’t possibly have tears left. They always came.

Now, he needed to listen. “Do you want to go in with me?” Thomas asked.

To Oscar’s surprise, Noriko’s voice was tight with emotion when she responded. “Ohh, I shouldn’t,” she said, and Oscar’s box lifted up, presumably to be handed off. “I miss him already, Tom.”

“Aww, Nori,” Thomas chided gently, a smile coloring his tone. “Are you sure you’re okay selling this one? It seemed to take a real shine to you. I’m sure Mina would understand.”

“Nooo,” she replied, drawing out the word. “I know I do this every time, but I’m just a foster mommy, really,” she assured him. “He needs to go to someone else who will love him just as much.”

Oscar shuddered and shrank into himself. His chest ached from sobs he couldn’t let out anymore. He didn’t want to go to some other human. He was nothing more than a doll to them. A scared little pet who was too weak to escape.

“Okay,” Thomas replied, still amused. A car door opened. “Be right back.”

Just like that, Noriko was out of Oscar’s life, and he was out of hers. He couldn’t even see the moment, trapped as he was in the box, but the finality in their voices couldn’t be denied.

Now, as Thomas carried him to his next destination, Oscar couldn’t decide if he wished he could stay with the nightmare he knew. Wherever he went next might be better than Noriko’s coddling and treating him like a toy.

He heard the sound of Thomas knocking on a door and shuddered.

It might be worse, too.

Oh, welcome back, Sassy!

The wood sprites actually don’t have anything like this, but the idea is super cute! Normally, when things get cold, the wood sprites tend to wind down a lot and stay inside much more. Their little bodies are tough to keep warm, even with their good metabolisms.

However, now I can’t stop picturing a tiny Sammy bundling up, and bundling up a young, fluttery Bowman to go out and play in the snow. They could make some pretty spectacular igloos, and if they did find a frozen puddle, Bowman would probably have a lot of fun sliding around. Before anyone knew it, there’d be more sprites giving it a try. They’d all need to huddle close for warmth once they went back inside, though!

January 10th excerpt:

Sherlock leaned in as Dean moved away, shifting to his knees and propping a hand on the dirty floor for stability. He was trying to emulate Dean’s line of sight as closely as he could, and puzzle out just what his small companion thought he saw down there.

A small amount of odd discoloration in the dirt along the wall had just caught his eye as Dean looked over his shoulder in annoyance. “Do you have to hover?” he griped up at Sherlock, jerking his head at his shadowed path.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed, looking more than a little offended by the complaint. While he could see he was casting a shadow over Dean, the detective gave a small huff as he pushed himself to his feet. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he side-stepped out of the way of the light, letting it wash over Dean and his goal, and leaned a shoulder against the nearby wall. He gave a flat look and a shrug, as if to say That enough space for you?

Changing Hands (1/5)

Welcome back to the sad Oscar AU. The unfortunate adventure continues for the little guy, as another upset in his new normal changes things again.

(x)


It never helped to count the days since he was captured. Oscar’s waking hours blended together in a huge nightmare that even sleep couldn’t erase. His bruises from his first capture faded and healed. His ankle, twisted and sore after he tried only once to escape, improved with care until it too showed no sign of the hurt. Oscar had memories as effective as any scar to remind him of the painful failure.

Noriko and Thomas kept him physically healthy. He received food every day, multiple times a day, and wasn’t left alone until he ate his fill. They didn’t like his habit of stashing food for later. Noriko would scold him even as she took away whatever he managed to hide.

She’d made a lot of clothes for him. She had fun seeing him in new outfits and could never resist a new one. Oscar was well familiar with her squeal of delight. It always came right before she swept him up in a hand to kiss the top of his head or hold him close in a hug.

Oscar really was her favorite. Sometimes, his eyes brimmed with tears when he thought about her. How he was getting used to her.

Used to belonging to her.

And then the day came when that changed.

“Wake up, little baby!” Noriko’s cheerful greeting preceded her entrance to the room. Oscar opened his eyes and sat up blearily as the lights switched on.

She had something in her hand. Oscar scooted off of his bed cushion to stand just as Noriko reached his dollhouse cage. Her free hand reached out and the glass front swung wide before he could see what she carried with her. Instead, he was gathered up in a gentle fist.

Noriko lifted him out of the cage and Oscar kept his eyes lowered. He squirmed only a little, aiming for more comfort for his arms. The pressure in the slender fingers around him rose and fell in reaction to it. As he rose, a breeze tousled his messy hair (Noriko never could tame it, no matter how often she scrubbed at it with fruity smelling shampoos).

Held before her face, Oscar had a clear view of her fond smile. A sort of sadness touched her eyes and he waited for the reason. Asking never had any effect. She’d say what she wanted to as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

“Oh, my sweet little one, you really are my favorite,” she cooed. Oscar cringed inwardly. He was only her favorite because he was smaller than most and easier to control

He cringed outwardly when her hand moved forward and allowed her to kiss the top of his head as she’d done many times before. Oscar, locked in her fist, could only wince until the brief gesture was over. His stomach flipped as he suddenly descended.

She lowered him towards what he could now see was a small box, made of cardboard and lined at the bottom with a cushion much like the one he slept on. Oscar could do nothing but watch it come closer until he was released a few inches over the cushion for a soft landing. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees and shook his head, dazed by the quick transition.

He collapsed as Noriko picked up the box again. When he looked up, she was sporting an endeared grin. “Oh, little sweetie. You be good for your new mommy, okay?”

Oscar’s eyes widened in confusion and he flinched. The lid of the box, cut with holes for air, was placed on top of his latest prison. His squeak of alarm died in his throat as she began walking again, carrying him away. He had to huddle in one corner to try to avoid being jostled around.

Outside the box, he could hear Noriko and Thomas getting ready. His prison swayed and jolted as they carried him around or set him aside to pick up something else, but he couldn’t see what was going on.

One name came up, and it drowned out everything else, even the car doors slamming and the engine of Thomas’ car purring to life. They were going to meet her.

Mina.

Character Profile: Krissy Vent

image

Name: Krissy Vent

Age:

23 (One year older than Sam)

Height: 5′5″ || 3.4″

Species: Borrowers/Littles

Eye Color: Pale green

Hair Color: Light brown

Gender: Female

Known Abilities: Very motherly with Sean, Krissy has had to act older than she is for years before she took in the newly cursed human. Though she has a phobia of humans, she does go through the vents to watch for any worrisome happenings at the motel.

Background: The only daughter of Brennan and Katrine Vent, Krissy had to grow up fast when her dad was lost and her mother fell into a spiral of depression. She has raised her younger brother, Bennet, almost on her own, often assisted by Sam when he lived in the motel, and more recently Walt, who took Krissy’s family as his own.

Quote: What do you mean ‘your brother?’ You don’t have a brother.

Artwork by Heartstores

January 9th excerpt:

Dean jabbed Sherlock in the neck. “Give me a hand,” he asked, hoping to avoid the trial of climbing down a human.

Sherlock blinked at the tiny pokes from the man on his shoulder, promptly lifting a hand for Dean to climb onto. Stan’s brow lifted a fraction as he watched the strange pair with unveiled curiosity. The action was so simple, yet it reminded Stan of just how small Dean Winchester actually was. Nearly all of Sherlock’s fingers outsized him, and somehow he could walk onto that hand seemingly without trepidation. Stan had to admire the amount of bravery that must take, entrusting someone so large with your fate.

“Where to?” Sherlock muttered, feeling rather like a taxi. A human taxi for a very small man. His eyes darted around the room, trying to follow Dean’s gaze in case he found something important.