I agree completely. That would be terrifying. Not to mention, at that point it’d be nearly impossible to interact with Dean at all. Sam and Bowman would have to be his caretakers.
I can’t say how small Jacob will end up (can’t give everything away 😉 ), but I will say that being smaller than both Sam and Bowman will really mess with his head. Being so little in general will be truly terrifying for Jacob, who’s used to being a towering six foot five.
“Let me guess, someone stole your sweetroll…” (Skyrim, friends, we’re referencing Skyrim like big TES nerds)
Flowerkin is actually neither an insult nor another species, though in the recent excerpt Sam is using it to tease Bowman (Actual tease –
“Bowman is still a dainty flowerkin like always. He didn’t even get a bruise on his wings.”). It is simply a word wood sprites use to describe particularly dainty wood sprites (which is saying something because they’re all kind of willowy and thin thanks to their metabolisms). In my sprite lore, flowerkin wood sprites are responsible for the popular artistic depiction of fairies wearing flower petals and such.
For example, here is a wood sprite character that I have developed who would be considered very flowerkin:
This little lady has yet to show up in any of my stories, but she will (someday… when I get around to it).
Art by the-searching-one.
( In reference to this post )
#19: “How tall would you say you are now?” With Bowman Leafwing and Jacob Andris of Bowman of Wellwood.
Sounds like those dorks, alright. It’s something of a running joke with me that Bowman finds Jacob’s height excessive (and really, who needs to be that tall anyway?).
Enjoy!
Jacob watched Bowman wheel around in the air, brushing past new leaves and looping in tight spirals around branches. Seeing how easy he made it look and how casually happy Bowman’s face was brought Jacob a smile of his own. He’d barely known the little wood sprite for six months, but it hadn’t taken long for Bowman to show off his skills.
Jacob might tease him a lot, but in the end he was impressed. Bowman flew through the air like a fish swims through water.
“You’re falling behind, giant!” Bowman crowed from the canopy. He darted ahead, flew back towards Jacob, and then turned forward again. Jacob kept his usual walking pace, a calm contrast to Bowman’s speedy turns.
“I’m not a giant,” Jacob mock complained. “Just ‘cause I’m taller than you.” Bowman snickered and landed lightly on a branch above Jacob’s eye level. When Jacob caught up, he reached up and whipped the branch with his palm.
Bowman fluttered off with an aggravated scoff. “Hey! Giant! Don’t do that!” he groused.
“Don’t land right in my way,” Jacob shot back with a grin.
Bowman groaned, before dropping to bank in a close circle around Jacob’s head. Jacob had to stop walking to avoid a sprite smacking into his head, and Bowman snickered. “This is right in your way. That branch wasn’t, you’re just so blasted tall.”
“You got me. I’ve been getting taller in the last few months,” Jacob admitted with a sigh.
That made Bowman falter. He did an incredulous double take before swooping up to land on Jacob’s head. The light sensation of tiny boots always surprised him, but Jacob had learned not to wave the sprite off if he didn’t want to be scolded for five minutes straight.
“You’ve been growing?! What in the world for?”
“It’s not like I control it,” Jacob chuckled.
“How tall would you say you are now?”
“Hmm … about six foot four, I think. I dunno.” Jacob almost shrugged, but he had to wonder if that’d upset Bowman’s perch on his head.
Bowman paused. Then, he blurted. “That’s seventy six inches tall! How tall were you when you first showed up here?!”
Jacob saw the question coming. He glanced straight up, but couldn’t see the tiny person standing up on his head. He had a feeling he knew the reaction to come. “About six foot even, so I grew like four inches.”
“What?!”
Predictably, Bowman’s light weight nearly stumbled right off the top of Jacob’s head. His wings fluttered and soon he was flying along at Jacob’s eye level.
“Are you serious?” Bowman asked, stuck between awe and irritation. It was an expression that Jacob had come to recognize in his few visits since the previous summer.
“Yup. Very,” Jacob answered with an amused grin.
“That’s how tall I am! You grew an extra Bowman height – which you didn’t need, by the way – in a couple seasons!”
“It’s true. I’m sneaky like that,” Jacob quipped, laughing at the flat look Bowman gave him.
“It’s the only sneaky thing about you, giant,” he remarked, before banking up towards the canopy once more, while Jacob continued to crash through the foliage below.
If anyone has other prompts for @neonthewrite, ask here!
Sam’s clothing in Brothers Asunder is all sprite made (with a few differences, seeing as he doesn’t have to accommodate wings). Generally, that means soft, earthy-colored cotton clothes of simple design. His shirts would mostly be simple brown or green garments – sprites don’t do buttons.
His pants are sturdy and breathable, and some are decorated with vine-like patterns at the side seams. They are tucked into knee-high boots. The boots lace up at the front and are more supple than heavy, lending themselves perfectly to dexterous movement.
Sam wears a long-sleeved jacket cut to about mid-thigh. It is, like most sprite garments, simple in design, lacking a lapel or even anything to fasten it shut. The grass-green jacket with elegant patterning at the hem is the uniform for a Knight of Wellwood. Most of the knights’ jackets have slits up the back for their wings but Sam’s does not need them. Even so, he wears his sword belt around the jacket like they do.
He’s made some minor modifications to his jacket. Among these are a hidden inner pocket for his quintessential knife, made for him by Dean before he was cursed and thus one of his most cherished possessions. Sam is the only knight who carries a knife in addition to the rapiers they all carry.
( In reference to this post )
#12: “Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m not dangerous, I’m just big.” with Jacob Andris of Fairy Tales: Bowman of Wellwood.
A Chance Encounter (2/2)
“Ah,” he muttered quietly, moving to hold up a placating hand. Jacob, in his curiosity, had all but trapped the tiny sprite by the rocks. She couldn’t risk slipping into the deeper waters without putting herself closer to him.
He remembered how terrified Bowman was of him when they first met. And, ruefully, he remembered how often Bowman scolded him for the simple crime of being tall. He tried to crouch down farther, but knew there was no hope for it.
“Please don’t be scared of me,” he said quietly, earnestly. His brown eyes remained fixed on the tiny aquatic woman’s shivering form. “I’m not dangerous. I’m just big.”
The shimmery little girl put her hands over her face. Jacob’s worried frown deepened. He never wanted his size to scare someone so much. With sprites, it was difficult. They were extra tiny in a world full of obstacles. Clearly, water sprites were just as skittish as wood sprites.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he muttered, in a voice barely more than a whisper. She didn’t move. “It happens sometimes. My wood sprite friends tell me I stomp around too much. Not much I can do, I tell them. There’s a whole lotta me to carry around.”
That drew more of a reaction from her. Tiny hands, as silvery as the rest of her, slowly dropped until her widened eyes peeked up at him from behind her bangs. Jacob smiled softly and shrugged. The action caused her back fins to flinch, but she didn’t try to hide her face again.
A tiny voice mumbled at him. The girl kept her hands over her mouth, masking the words and leaving Jacob unsure of whether they were fearful, pleading, or just plain curious.
“I’m … sorry, miss,” he answerred, still muttering. “I can’t hear you very well.”
She blinked up at him before hesitantly lowering her hands. “You have wood sprite friends?”
He nodded. “Yep. My best friend is a wood sprite. His name is Bowman. The wood sprites I know all live in a different forest.”
She was still pressed against the rock, but something in her bearing relaxed. “Oh, I see,” she answered. “How … you’re so big …”
Jacob chuckled. “That’s true. Bowman tells me so, too. It was all kinda tough at first. He was really nervous and I wasn’t as calm about finding him, either,” he admitted.
“But now he’s your best friend,” she echoed, and Jacob nodded. “And you won’t … you won’t hurt me or try to catch me?”
“Miss, I will never do that,” Jacob intoned seriously. “I promise. I know sprites are people just like I am, even though they’re smaller.” Her eyes were wide and she simply stared at him. Jacob smiled again. “If I were to guess, I’d say you must be a water sprite?”
She nodded and finally stopped pressing herself into the rock behind her. Her fins rippled and she stepped forward with the water lapping around her legs and the fins growing from them.
“Y-yes, sir,” she replied. Her fins fanned a lot like the butterfly wings they seemed to mimic. “My name is Kadmianika Greyfin, sir.”
Jacob smiled in greeting, inwardly amazed by her appearance. She was so like the wood sprites and yet so different. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir’,” he told her. “I’m Jacob, and it’s really nice to meet you, Kad… Kad-mi-anika.” He had to say it slowly, but he managed to say her name correctly. She seemed pleased.
Bowman will never believe me.
( In reference to this post )
#12: “Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m not dangerous, I’m just big.” with Jacob Andris of Fairy Tales: Bowman of Wellwood.
Yep, that sounds like Jacob after he became friends with Bowman. He became very aware of how big and scary he could be, especially to the sprites.
This story is the first thing that came to me with that line. So, allow me to introduce the first glimpse of my water sprites!
A Chance Encounter (½)
Jacob almost had a crick in his neck from turning it this way and that as he walked. Usually, walking among nature relaxed him. However, the scenery around him drew his eyes in every direction, and it was due in large part to the slopes that angled around him. He was Midwestern, through and through, and the mountainous region of Colorado might never cease to amaze him.
Nature hikes through relatively flat forests were one thing. Adding mountains gave him an extra challenge and took his breath away in more ways than one. The views, when he could glimpse beyond the trees, were beautiful and unlike anything he’d seen before.
He couldn’t help but think that Bowman would love it.
A stream caught his attention, and Jacob wandered nearer to watch it fall over the rocks. It burbled down a miniature waterfall before angling sharply towards a thicker copse of trees, and Jacob followed it absently.
Not long after pushing aside low branches heavy with leaves, Jacob found a shallow pool only five or six feet across. Ferns and small wildflowers lined the edges of the water, with some tall grasses braving the shallowest parts.
A shimmer of motion among some rocks piled high against one side of the pool caught his eye. It was the barest twitch, and yet he zeroed in on it immediately. Normally, he’d never have noticed it at all. But Jacob’s best friend was a wood sprite, whose leafy wings allowed him to blend in among the trees with ease. Jacob was used to paying closer attention.
He hopped down a slight drop to approach the pool, and fell to a squat next to the rocks. Most of them were no bigger than a grapefruit, but a few reached the size of basketballs.
A tiny girl was pressed against one of the bigger ones, failing to hide in the shadow of the other stones.
Jacob’s jaw dropped and he stared openly. She was like nothing he’d ever seen.
Her skin was light grey, almost blue, and it shimmered in the light from the water that lapped around her legs. Long black hair hung down her back in damp locks, while her bangs stuck to her forehead. At first, Jacob thought she was caught in a net, but he realized that she was wearing it as a shawl shirt, with a short skirt tied close around her hips.
The girl had fins. The sides of her thin little legs sported what looked like tail fins; if she held her legs together, they would take on the appearance of a mermaid. From her back sprouted four silvery fins with dark blue markings that looked remarkably like butterfly wings. With the way she pressed her back against the rocks, the fins were spread wide and displayed for Jacob to see. A water sprite! That’s gotta be…
She stared up at him, her murky eyes wide and filled with terror.
If anyone has other prompts for @neonthewrite, ask here!
That is correct, wood sprite wings do have chlorophyll in them facilitating the photosynthesis. However, the extension is not also true. Leaves change color in autumn because they slowly stop producing chlorophyll, so their natural colors begin to show through until the green is gone. However, wood sprites don’t stop this production. That’s where the big differences between their wings and real leaves show through; real leaves eventually die off because of the winter months, and not pulling in enough energy is a part of that. Wood sprites must keep their wings, of course! 🙂
That said, if a wood sprite’s wings did stop producing chlorophyll for some reason (sickness, for example), then their wings would look grayish. They don’t have other pigments in the wings hidden by the green.
This story is for the contest going on over at @brothersapart. Fans of gt and/or supernatural should give that blog a look, because there’s some quality writing of both over there. The contest has already attracted some really awesome entries, too! I’m adding mine into the fray.
The story is a slight AU of the Brothers Apart series. It takes place the night before Sam is cursed and shrunk by the witch.
Walt stared up at Sam, and then at the digit extended towards him. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but Sam’s enthusiasm for the gesture made him feel like he was supposed to do something. So, tentatively, wishing he wasn’t so monumentally stupid for staying when he could be running for cover, Walt reached out a hand. It was shaking, with a fear in the back of his mind that Sam would change his mind and snatch him up again. Humans could be fickle like that.
Sam waited patiently as Walt reached out. Eventually, his hand brushed against the tip of the boy’s finger. Before he could draw it away again, Sam curled the finger towards himself a little, and Walt nearly stumbled as his hand was pulled gently along.
Then, without grabbing or even looking like he planned to, Sam drew his hand away again. Walt stepped back and kept the boy’s face in his sight, still wearing a cautious, stern expression.
There was a pause that nearly became awkward before Walt spoke up again. “I need to go home now,” he said, watching the human’s face carefully. If Sam looked upset or like he might not want Walt to leave, he was ready to bolt.
Sam was full of more surprises. He didn’t even protest Walt’s assertion. Instead, he nodded. “Okay, Walt,” he replied. Then, he bit his lip, thinking hard about something. “If you want,” he spoke up again, “you could come and visit me again maybe. I think we’re staying here for a little bit while my dad … works. Since we’re friends now I’ll remember not to grab or anything!”
Walt pursed his lips, seeing the hopefulness in every inch of Sam’s bearing. “I’ll think about it,” he replied, taking several steps backwards and towards the bed. Sam watched him go, that hopeful look remaining.
When Walt finally turned to dart away under the bed, he thought to himself that he just might come and at least check on the kid the following night. He didn’t plan to reveal himself again, not to a human. Even one who had let him go once could always change his mind later.
But he might at least come to see.
This story is for the contest going on over at @brothersapart. Fans of gt and/or supernatural should give that blog a look, because there’s some quality writing of both over there. The contest has already attracted some really awesome entries, too! I’m adding mine into the fray.
The story is a slight AU of the Brothers Apart series. It takes place the night before Sam is cursed and shrunk by the witch.
Walt frowned sternly up at the boy, but refused to show his confusion. Most humans wouldn’t respond that way to him snapping at them, that was for sure. “No, you didn’t,” he had to admit. “But I do want you to put me down.”
He didn’t get lowered to the floor immediately, but Sam did adjust his grip so that Walt sat in his cupped hands. Walt was tempted to go for his razor again, but held back for the time being. At least he was making progress in the right direction, though his pounding heart was just short of frantic enough for a heart attack.
“I promise I will,” Sam said earnestly. “But … who are you? Why were you in our room? Dad and Dean say the supernatural is dangerous!”
Walt kept his wary, stern gaze fixed on the look above him. He couldn’t help it, but behind the facade that all humans represented to him, of giants full of malice and greed that were out for their own gain, he saw Sam for what he was.
Just a kid.
Full of wonder and concern and the same human notion to grab, but a kid all the same. “Do I look dangerous to you?” he prompted, his voice and face still stern but slightly kinder than before. Sam shook his head. “You are more dangerous to me,” Walt assured him with confidence.
At that, Sam almost looked sheepish. “I … I’m real sorry I grabbed you,” he finally mumbled, his ears a little pinker than they were before. Walt nodded once, accepting the apology despite the lingering fear. He was still stuck in Sam’s hands at least a foot in the air.
“Don’t let it happen again,” Walt instructed him, feeling suddenly like he was scolding a child that could be his own. That tone had slipped into his voice without him realizing it.
Sam sighed, and the warm air brushed past Walt’s face. Then, much to Walt’s eternal surprise, the boy lowered his hands to the floor. Walt wasted no time in scrambling off of them and backing up on the carpet, hoping the boy wasn’t initiating a game of cat and mouse.
“Now can you tell me who you are? I won’t grab you again! Maybe we can be friends. We don’t …” Sam sat up straighter to peer over the bed again, once more checking on his brother. Walt couldn’t help but take a few more wary steps back.
He stopped when Sam looked back down at him, a melancholy in his eyes that should be reserved for someone much older than him. “We move around a lot so I don’t get to make very many friends.”
Walt’s stern look didn’t waver, but he sighed anyway. The boy’s loneliness coated every syllable, now, and Walt couldn’t unlearn what he had about Sam. “I’m Walt,” he relented. Sam positively beamed with delight. “And if you want to be my friend, Sam, all you have to do is promise that you won’t ever grab someone like me if you find them. We’re all just trying to get by, and we don’t mean you or anyone else any harm.”
Sam nodded vigorously. Then, his hand was rapidly approaching, and Walt stumbled backwards further. The hand stopped in front of him, the littlest finger extended towards him. Walt looked up at Sam in confusion in time for the boy to say “I pinky promise!”
Brothers Apart 