Alas, Greta's new friend is not the gentle type, but she watches and nods and leans closer, so the younger girl can watch her as she makes another attempt.
She goes slower, and more gently, and suddenly it's much easier than using severe force. This would be an excellent metaphor and/or life lesson for her, if she wasn't nine and mostly concerned with making a pretty crown for her hair; since she is nine, she starts to smile again, slipping in fresh flowers as the braid lengthens. "Thank you," she says, and turns her smile on the other girl, eyes bright. (They are blue, too, but a plain, everyday blue-grey, like you might find on anyone.) "This is fun."
All of this is fun, aside from the bit where she failed at crown-making-- but she can tuck the lost flowers into her hair, and there's no one to scold her or drag the other girl away, and she can bury her toes in the grass under her skirts.
"Do you have a name?" she asks, carefully braiding.
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She goes slower, and more gently, and suddenly it's much easier than using severe force. This would be an excellent metaphor and/or life lesson for her, if she wasn't nine and mostly concerned with making a pretty crown for her hair; since she is nine, she starts to smile again, slipping in fresh flowers as the braid lengthens. "Thank you," she says, and turns her smile on the other girl, eyes bright. (They are blue, too, but a plain, everyday blue-grey, like you might find on anyone.) "This is fun."
All of this is fun, aside from the bit where she failed at crown-making-- but she can tuck the lost flowers into her hair, and there's no one to scold her or drag the other girl away, and she can bury her toes in the grass under her skirts.
"Do you have a name?" she asks, carefully braiding.