The despairing thought rang through the many panicked fragments in Bowman’s mind. On either side and overhead, his view was blocked by the pattern of the shirt that Dean wore. With the jar tucked under an arm, Bowman didn’t have a chance to really see where they were taking him. Fate had given him an extra dose of the unfair by making sure the giants’ arms were thicker around than he was tall.
Thanks to the tilt, the bottom of the jar was behind him and the curved wall beneath. Bowman could see the forest floor, and the effect that Dean’s boots had on it. Those boots had to be the size of a small house.
With his hands braced on the glass, Bowman felt like the world was so close, just beyond his reach. He was captured and he didn’t know what would happen to him. He couldn’t even warn the village of the threat wandering the woods.
He tried to writhe free, panic creeping through his veins. That glass container loomed in his vision like a gaping mouth, and his resolve almost faltered. He couldn’t even attempt to bite Dean again to get away. There was nothing to do but watch the thing get closer to him, an inevitable shift in Dean’s grip as he prepared to trap Bowman with ease.
Those knives glinted and the glass glittered and Bowman’s adrenaline had nowhere to go.
“S-stop it! I told you I didn’t–” he insisted, before the grip loosened around him and the words seized in his chest.
If Logan had been the one holding Bowman for that scene, there would most certainly have been an injured sprite to deal with. Dean tends to be much more fair when it comes to dealing with tiny unknowns. He probably wouldn’t approve of Logan jumping to conclusions.
Bowman would make it easy to choose his side, too. He would be absolutely devastated if something happened to his wings and he couldn’t fly. The little guy doesn’t cry often, but there would be spritely tears.
Bowman may not agree, but he’s better off with Dean any day.
Bowman scoffed and squirmed again. He didn’t have time for something like this. Not when Logan looked completely skeptical of the conversation, too. Bowman was the only one on his own side, and he had to focus on getting away. He couldn’t give them time to decide they wanted to hurt him.
He almost spat out another scathing remark, but in his struggles he spotted movement on Dean’s chest. He blinked, but could have sworn he saw a couple pairs of eyes, normal sized ones, peering out of a pocket at him. The notion threw him off and he froze.
“Vicious little thing,” the other giant pointed out with a scoff. Bowman opened his eyes to glance at him and quivered again. He couldn’t decide if that giant’s accusing glare or his captor’s complete fascination was more unsettling.
“L-let go, you wingless pile of snakeskin!” he managed to force out, putting his considerable reserves of defiance into his voice.
@neonthewrite– Regarding the lighter, the older sprites most likely reacted a lot like Bowman did. Amazed and wary, and surprised that he can hold even a small fire in his hand. Since he’s the expert with it, they’d most likely leave it to him simply out of fear of accidentally setting it off themselves (they really really don’t like fire).
@nightmares06– Sam does have his climbing abilities, only with the sprites he doesn’t have the standard hook and thread to climb with. Trees have fairly thick bark which offers plenty of handholds, so when he was bored, he would try climbing up the tree trunk. It gave him something to occupy himself with when Bowman finally got himself off the ground and flitted off, and went too far to hear Sam cheering him on.
Dean taught Sam caution with everything he entrusted his little brother with, so Sam knows the proper handling of a lighter (and a gun, though he didn’t get cursed with a gun). He won’t leave it lying around again, and along with many of the other items he was cursed with, it serves as an anchor to his old life to hang on to.
@neonthewrite– That sounds fantastic. The sprites have probably experimented with some of that before, at least a little. They have some efficient ways of keeping their homes warm, but no one’s perfect and I bet a time or two, juice has frozen over. Sam could pretend he’s having an icee if they crushed it up to eat it.
If Bowman got his tongue stuck on ice, he’d probably never hear the end of it from Sam. There would be lots of confused fluttering and then pouting from the little sprite!
@nightmares06– Sam loves showing Bowman new things, and he’ll certainly have fun in the winter when it snows! Just think of how big those snowflakes will be when they fall. They won’t melt instantly when Bowman or Sam hold them, so they’ll get to see them better than ever!
And plenty of teasing when Bowman got his tongue stuck, before helping him out.
Known Abilities: Expert in flight and aerial acrobatics, forest camouflage, very sassy even when it is dangerously bold of him, basic Prayer to the Earth Spirit
Background: Bowman hails from Wellwood, a very isolated settlement of wood sprites situated so deep in a Midwestern forest that they had forgotten about the existence of human beings entirely. A year before his introduction to the BA-verse in A Lich of Sense, he met Jacob Andris, a human out on a camping trip with his friends. The result of Jacob being the first human to meet a Wellwood sprite in years can be found in the full story of Fairy Tales: Bowman of Wellwood.
Bowman spent all of his time growing up loving to fly. The moment his wings were big enough to carry him off the ground, he started practicing. At that point, his practice with his Prayers took a backseat, making his finesse with Life magic far underdeveloped compared to some others. However, it also means he is a very accomplished flyer, the fastest in Wellwood. He won’t let anyone forget it, either.
Quote: You want my first guess, or maybe we should sit around and brainstorm on it? It was a wolf, you idiot. What was wrong with it is a much better question.
After seeing this adorable artwork, I absolutely had to make a story to go along with it. This isn’t really canon to Fairy Tales, but it was a lot of fun anyway. The art was made by the amazing @lamthetwickster and commissioned by @nightmares06. Thank you both, and Merry Christmas to all!
Approx. reading time ~5-10 minutes
After the hustle and bustle leading up to the holiday, nothing suited Jacob more than lounging on the couch.
The living room was kept tidy, with the rug vacuumed and the coffee table free of the usual craft magazines that adorned it. There was a low fire in the fireplace, behind a worn metal grate to keep any errant sparks at bay. The furniture, well worn from years of use, had been pushed aside from its usual arrangement to make room for a tall addition that glittered and glowed.
The Christmas tree was rumpled on one side, so they’d set it up with that part facing the wall. The rest was adorned with sparkling ornaments, and a string light that Jacob had been tasked with adding on. His mother was way too short to reach the top of the tree.
There was white felt wrapped around the base for fake snow, and a tidy little pile of wrapped gifts arranged around it. With the fireplace going and the soft light from the tree reflecting around the room, it made a typical Christmas setting.
The wood sprite fluttering around the room made things less typical.
Bowman and Jacob, Mischief Managed (from a much older prompt list that I am far too lazy to go dig up)
Bowman flitted to and fro while Jacob walked along the forest floor, his heavy steps crushing twigs and leaves beneath his boots. The pair made an odd sight navigating the woods. Where one was only four inches tall and glided on wings mimicking the leaves all around them, the other stood over six feet tall and sported a worn out hoodie.
They were as different as they could be, but they’d managed to build an easy friendship over Jacob’s visits to the forest. Bowman, despite all of his complaints about human nonsense, never stopped coming up with more questions.
Up ahead, Bowman saw something glinting in the sun and grinned. He had an idea.
He drifted downward to fly in a circle around Jacob’s head. The human stopped to avoid bumping into him and raised his eyebrows. “Yes, Bowman?” he said, a smirk growing on his face. “You have my attention.”
Bowman hovered at Jacob’s eye level and pointed toward a pine tree with long, spindly branches and golden drops of sap glistening upon them. The sun filtering down through the leaves above cast light over the sap so that it almost glowed invitingly. “There’s some pine sap over there. You should try some!”
Jacob frowned critically. “Isn’t that, like, super bitter?” he asked. Even so, he resumed walking when Bowman led the way towards the tree.
Bowman scoffed. “It’s delicious,” he countered. “Figures you humans would know more about phone things than what’s good to eat.”
Jacob snickered as Bowman came to a landing on one of the branches. Where Bowman could deftly find a place to stand, Jacob had to stoop slightly to avoid being poked by the sharp green needles of the tree. He peered skeptically at a large glob of sap sitting on the branch.
Bowman rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a sprout about it,” he complained. “See?” he stooped to grab a flake of bark to scoop some of the sap up. With relish, he ate the sticky amber sap and gestured with a wing for Jacob to try it.
Jacob sighed and it ruffled Bowman’s hair, but then he shrugged. “I guess. You’ll know better than any wilderness guidebooks,” he reasoned aloud. He took a smear of the sap on his fingertip.
Any second now.
The minute Jacob tasted the sap, his face morphed into one of complete disgust. “Oh Jesus Christ,” he lamented, his mouth turned downward in a tight frown. The overwhelming bitter flavor, a favorite of Bowman’s, was stronger than he ever could have expected.
Bowman cackled. “Oh, Spirit, I can’t believe that worked.”
“Oh my God,” Jacob rolled his eyes, still with a note of disgust in his voice. The taste of the sap would linger with him for hours. “You’re such an ass.”
Bowman fluttered up from the branch. “And you’re such a giant. Congratulations, Jacob. You’ve been had by someone the size of your finger.” He held up his hand with his index finger extended for emphasis.
Jacob mimicked the motion, but before Bowman knew what he was up to, he poked at Bowman’s chest in midair. Bowman faltered and glared, and Jacob smirked. “I’ll put you in my pocket,” he warned.
Bowman narrowed his eyes. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
Definitely Fairy Tales canon. Definitely only happened once. Jacob learns quickly that Bowman is a stinker, and here you see he definitely employed the right technique. Just poke him.
Brothers Apart 