CLEMENTINE FARLEY IS LOST. Only five years old, Mena is rather dainty. Perhaps that's why she has slipped through her father's mind. Last Mena saw him, he was reading a book, having taken the two to a park to relax. It wasn't fully his fault, of course—Mena had followed the butterflies, after all.

They lead her deeper and deeper into the forest before flying up, up, up in the air and leaving her behind. She called out to them, explaining that she doesn't have wings, but they were already long gone. Mena now finds herself in woods unknown to her, all by her lonesome. Why, she even lost her favorite scarf on the way! It snagged on a stray branch and Mena was far too entranced with the butterflies to pay it any mind. However, now the butterflies are gone, so, at this moment, she does pay it mind.

Mena plops onto the dead leaves, the ground greeting her with a crunch. The sky has grown dim. Mena cannot see the sun anymore. Oh dear, how long has she been gone? She folds into herself, resting on her side on the dirt, and cries pitifully. She misses her Mommy more than ever before. She stopped writing home two months ago. Sometimes Mena stays up late, wondering if her mother is gone or if she has just forgotten about her daughter and husband.

Mena woke up cloaked in warmth, a complete difference from the shivery cold she fell asleep in. The little girl continues to doze, dipping in and out of consciousness in a content haze. She blinks the rest of the sleep away, stretching away from the leathery heat. Wings unfurl in unison of her arms, folding back into its body. She focuses on the animal and finds herself face to face with a dark and hairless horse with milky white eyes.

The odd-looking horse rubs its snout against Mena's face, causing her to grin. She pets the animal and whispers, "hello."

There is a whole herd of the leathery horses. The little ones play with Mena, bumping into her in a joyous manner, that is until the biggest of the bunch knocks her over. The mother of the group—the one that wrapped the little girl up in her wings during the cold autumn night—quickly dispersed the play fighting and decided to keep the human close.

Mena really has nowhere else to be, not knowing her way around this forest, so she follows the herd as they take a trek to... somewhere.

She quietly sings a song, hand pressed against the neck of the mother. "You are lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry, Clementine."

Her stomach growls and she looks up at the animal. Well, she doesn't know what they eat. Do they forage? Either way, she shall have to. Perhaps, after a while, she will become like them, horses with wings unfeathered.. She smiles at the thought.

"Clementine?"

Mena and the rest of the animals turn to the noise. Why, Mena recognizes that voice! She recognizes it very much!

"Daddy!" Mena yells back. She turns to the mother animal. "That's my daddy!"

Sylas Farley slides through the trees, arms outstretched to his daughter, who quickly sprints over, launching herself at him.

"Clementine! Thank Morgan, thank Morgan. Where have you been? The whole town has been looking for you—" Sylas stops, just about dropping the girl on the ground. He unsheathes his wand, pointing it directly at the herd. "Get back!"

Mena gasps. "No! Daddy, they saved me!"

Sylas fires a spell at the closest tree, singing it with a shattering spark. The creatures jolt and disperse, the mother hesitating a second longer than the rest, looking at Mena one last time before bolting. The little girl's face screws up into a sob as Sylas gets to her level.

"You're safe now," he says, petting her dirty blonde hair.

"Nooo, I want them back," Mena cries.

"No, you don't, Clementine. They are dreadful, evil, ugly things. Let's go home, the whole town is waiting."

Clutching her tiny hand, Sylas makes his way back to civilization, at times looking down at his little girl.

Mena steps on leaves and twigs, eyes trained on the sky. Out of the corner of her eye she spits butterflies. Why, they were pretty, beautiful even. They were supposedly good, but if it weren't for them, Mena wouldn't have been lost in the first place! The creatures were good, though they might seem evil on the outside. The mother cradled her, giving the child warmth she desperately needed. The butterflies didn't do that, the creatures did.

As Mena and Sylas parted ways with the woods, the little girl made a vow: she shall love the dreadful, the evil, the ugly. She shall care for the oddities, shelter the abnormal. Clementine Farley will be a force to be reckoned with, a power on the side of all the ugly things.

author's note!

AH!!!! Clementine Farley is giving Newt Scamander a run for his money in the loving animals field. It would be a shame if they remedied this situation with a little kiss

This is the shortest thing I've written in a WHILE but it hits all the marks needed. Yes, those are thestrals. Wonder why Mena and her dad can see them...

vote if you can please <3