"Ready?" I asked for the millionth time. 

     "Yes, just a second," replied my brother, Grey. 

      "You said that ten minutes ago," I answered irritably. 

     "But this time it's for real," Grey replied and I heard the clip clop of a horse's hooves on the rock-floor of the stables. Grey emerged from the great wooden stable doors on horse-back. His horse was named Light Step, everyone called it Step though. I nodded at him and I felt Phoenix lurch under me. Phoenix was my mare. She had a beautiful light flea bitten grey coat and a black patch on her forehead. Grey trotted after me. As we past the gates of Evebridge, the guards saluted us. We returned the salute with a smile. Beyond us was a field covered in a blanket of shimmering snow. Beyond the field lay the forest. We urged our horses on and they cantered into the snow covered field. Step was a beautiful splashed white horse. As the horses cantered, they kicked up snow behind them. We headed towards the forest. On our left, there was the mountain called the Forever. It was covered in sheer cliffs of rock and part of it dipped into the forest. We finally reached the edge of the forest. The horses slowed to a trot as they entered the forest eagerly. All the tree in the forest were evergreen and their leaves and branches were covered in sparkling snow. Robins fluttered about, chirping merrily and the forest snow glittered in the sunlight. We slowed down to a trot. 

     "Tell me about the dragons," I said, looking at the towering trees. 

     "I've told you thousands of times," Grey said with a grin. When I was small, on every pony walk we had taken, Grey had told me a story about Evebridge and the attacks of Dragons. How, in the time of Dragons, we had fought against their wrath. 

     "But you always said there were millions of stories," I protested. 

     "Alright, I'll tell you one. A different one," Grey said slowly. "Two centuries ago, when Evebridge had finally been made a dragon-proof village, there came one last Dragon. The last Dragon in the world. It came to the village, people were ready though and they started shooting and attacking it. It was big, blue, powerful, an Ice Dragon. It was so wounded it crashed into the village, destroying almost the whole village. A little boy, unknown to the world, just an ordinary citizen, was caught in the debris. His house had been crushed and the dragon's head had landed right next to his house. The debris was so great that the villagers had a hard time just to get to the middle where the dragon lay. It took a week for the villagers to get to the dragon. It also took a week for the little boy to befriend the dragon. When the villagers had got to the little boy and the dragon, they found they were great friends. Some people decided it might not be necessary to kill the dragon. Some people thanked the dragon for taking care of the boy. The boy said, "We took care of each other." But there were people with a black, dark grudge against Dragons. As the other dragons had killed their family and friends. But, the thing is, people had grown up in the village learning dragons were evil animals. From the beginning when people had started a war with these big creatures, they took in mind that dragons were evil. Because people are like that, they're scared. They don't like things bigger, stronger than them and they always, always think they are right. How did they know for sure that dragons were not evil?" Silence.

     "You never told me this before," I finally murmur. 

     "Everyone tells tales about the old days, the war against the dragons. Their victory against these great dragons. Even though the Ice Dragon was the last dragon people had ever seen, they only remember the bad in the creatures. Even Dad, have you heard the way he makes speeches? "Our ancestors fought and won against dragons. If other villages attack, they'll be nothing compared to the gigantic, dangerous beasts we used to fight." ... I don't know, I can't be sure that dragons are good but I can't be sure they were evil though either, you know what I mean?" Grey sighed deeply, looking around him. 

     "I know. Where did you learn about this?" I asked. 

    "Library. It was a tiny little booklet, notebook. I think it was almost forgotten, it was under a dusty shelf, covered in dirt and dust. I could show you if you like," Grey proposed. I didn't answer. I always had a fascination with big, different, beautiful beasts.

     "Oh well," coughed Grey. "Don't talk to Papa about this. Don't mention this at all actually.

     "Why n-" I was cut off.

     "Just don't ok? I shouldn't have told you this anyways. Dragons are evil. Not a small little, unmeaningful story is going to change that," Grey shrugged angrily, he suddenly seemed to have changed his mind. 

     "But you just said-" I protested. 

     "Forget it!" roared Grey. 

     "But it's important! That was the last Dragon our village has ever fought or seen and it seemed to have been nice. What id they were nice? What if we killed of a species of great, beautiful creatures for no reason at all but fear?" I said hurriedly. 

     "There are no "nice" Dragons. Just shut up Jan. I shouldn't have been telling you these stories anyways," Grey muttered angrily. Our horses started to get restless and more irritated by our shouting. 

     "But why did you tell me the story then?" I pushed. 

     "JANUARY!" burst Grey, turning red. He pulled roughly on his reins and faced me with his horse. 

      "I'm sorry!" I cried. "I'm just asking questions, that's all." Grey looked at me for a while then turned his head away. 

    "Fine," he spat, then calmed down, took a deep breath and added calmly, "Do not ever mention this talk ever again. Don't ever think about it. Don't ever talk to me about it. Don't ever hint about it. Never." 

     "Alright," I murmured 

     "Promise me," Grey prodded gently. 

     "I promise," I said softly. Grey gave a slight nod and gave me a tight lipped smile. 

     "I'm sorry for shouting," Grey apologised. "I think every animal in a three kilometre radius has fled by now." 

     "I think so too," I joked. We continued our walk quietly and slightly awkwardly. We reached a stream named Klyruq which connected to the main river. 

     "We need to turn back now, I got Geography lessons. Private tutor. Let the horses drink a little, they must be thirsty," Grey finally said. I hopped off Phoenix and Grey jumped off Step. He then kicked the top of the stream. It was covered in a thick layer of ice. Grey squatted and searched for a rock. I found one under the snow and passed it to Grey. He used it to break the ice to the water below. When there was a little hole through the ice, Step drunk eagerly followed by Phoenix. We then mounted and cantered back to the village. 

The fire crackled reassuringly. The room was warm and cosy. The comfortable satin armchair I sat in was soft and cozy. I kicked my boots off and buried myself in my book. The glass tea table in front of me had a teapot with steaming tea in it and some biscuits. I popped a biscuit in my mouth and munched slowly. I ate half of it and stuffed it back into the ceramic bowl. I continued reading quietly. I suddenly saw a brown hand move to the ceramic bowl in a swift motion. 

      "Hey," I snapped and shot up. Standing in front of me with a defiant look and crossed arms was a boy about my age with dark skin. His hair was matted and in a messy, dark bundles heap on his head. He wore a dirtied white shirt, tough, worn pants and useful, strong boots. He stood there and shook his head slightly before turning around. He grabbed a cloth and some tools on the bottom of the shelf and started to inspect the bottom part of it. 

     "You took a biscuit!" I growled. He turned around. 

     "No I didn't," he grumbled. 

     "Yes you did," I snapped. 

     "No, I did not. How could you have seen? You were reading," the boy spat. 

     "I saw you!" I jabbed a finger at him. "Get out before I call the guards."

    "I'm allowed to be here. I'm an apprentice carpenter. I was allowed to come into the Mansion to fix this shelf. I don't want to be here," the boy grunted.

     "You took a biscuit," I said angrily. 

     "You. Are. Right," the boy said slowly, in a mocking tone. "Good job, Sherlock."

     "So you admit it," I pointed out triumphly. 

     "Yes," The boy nodded matter-of-factly. "I did. Or had you not realised?"

     "You're not allowed to steal things," I said. 

     "I'm sorry," the boy smirked, not sorry at all.

     "You shouldn't be here if you are going to steal things."

     "I only took a cookie. How old are you? I thought the daughter of Evebridge's leader was thirteen years old."

     "I am thirteen."

     "You don't act like it."

     "Probably not because I'm waayyy more mature than that."

     "No, it's the opposite."

     "It doesn't matter. You're changing the subject. The fact is, you stole a cookie." 

     "For a thirteen year old girl, you are very immature." The boy made a face and in a squeaky voice he squealed, "Oh no! You took my cookie! It's stealing! It's such a big deal. My life-that I don't have-depends on it." I knew he was "imitating" me. 

     "You're rude," I blurt out. "Why did you take the cookie anyway? I'm sorry I made it a big deal."

     "Because I'm hungry. I admitted I took the cookie so I didn't lie to you," the boy said, turning around. "You get to sit on the big, warm armchair, with no care in the world, while I'm here, fixing this shelf and that's not even the bad part yet. It's almost winter and my family needs food for proper clothing and food. They still need to pay for a tutor to be a carpenter or I won't be able to get a job or get money when I grow older. My little sister has come down with the flu and all the doctors are occupied with "bigger issues". We can't get a private doctor as it's too expensive and this job to fix this slightly broken shelf has been given to me by my tutor as practice and as my first "real" job. I'll be paid a quarter of the full payement while the rest will go to my tutor as he was "tutoring" me and he also gave me this job. Also, my sister is only a few months old and would not survive a flu like this without the proper clothing, heating or nutrition. So, I took one biscuit from you, someone who has plenty more, who didn't even finish the biscuit you took from the bowl. This biscuit might keep my tummy quiet for the day so my parents can give my share of food to my little sisters or for themselves." I was shocked. 

     "I'm sorry, I didn't know," I murmured sheepishly. 

     "I know you didn't know. How could you know? Why would you care?" the boy said, his tone turning hard again. 

     "Of course I care!" I exclaimed. "We give out free food and blankets and supplies for all the villagers. Papa has made it clear that everyone can get some fi they need it. Why don't you take it?"

     "Yes I imagine that is true. But what you don't understand is that it's not as simple as that. The Noble of the West is not very generous with his givings and usually leaves people out. It happens to many people and you probably don't realise it. I mean it's a great idea, giving out blankets and stuff but it has many flaws." 

     "But if I told Papa he would understand!"

     "I'm sure your "Papa" would understand." He was mocking me again. 

    "It's already been brought out many times but your "Papa" hasn't done anything about it. I'm not against him, I can't complain. He's a great leader, done so many great things for the village. His choices are great. But this is one thing that isn't so great," sighed the boy. 

     "I understand," I said softly. 

     "No you don't. You're just a spoilt child," cried the boy. I turned red and he then knew he had crossed the line. He backed away. 

     "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'll get you and your family a whole packet of cookies," the boy apologised, fear in his eyes. "Miss." The word "Miss" was said so softly I almost didn't hear it. Finally some respect, I thought. Then I quickly remembered what he had said. 

     "Spoilt?" I muttered slowly. I was many things, but spoilt was not one of them. I didn't mind being called many things but spoilt? Certainly not. I was not spoilt. I tried to help people. I thought I understood people's struggles, I thought of them as equals. But I had never struggled hard in life. When winter came, I rejoiced. I didn't have to work hard to survive through winter. I thought about this. Maybe I was spoilt. No matter how hard I tried to think about other people and understand their problems, I just couldn't because I had never gone through the same thing. 

     "I'm sorry," the boy stammered again. 

     "No, it's ok. I'm sorry. Maybe I am spoilt. Here, take the whole bowl. Eat it up now," I said. The boy looked at me and took a biscuit from the bowl and slowly put it in his mouth. I nodded at him and smiled. I then clapped my hands and a servant walked into the room. Before he could utter a word I turned to the servant.

     "Please could you get me a bowl of warm soup, fruit of some sort, of course, some pastry and some nice beef and fries?" I demanded in a soft voice. The servant nodded and walked out. The boy was now stuffing biscuits in his mouth and I turned to him. He was kneeling by the table, eating hungrily. 

     "Sit down on that armchair. Food's coming soon. You'll like it," I said. The boy didn't question me, he sat on the armchair. he slowly sunk into the soft plush cushion and gasped. I giggled and he smiled back. A full smile. His eyes lit up. 

     "Thank you," he whispered. 

     "What's your name?" I asked. 

     "River." 

River gulped down the soup and ate the fruit greedily. When he got to the pastry he thought for a while. 

     "Can I keep this for my family?" he asked. I shook my head. 

     "This is for you. I'll get your family more food later. Eat up." River nodded eagerly and thanked me again. He ate the beef and fries and then finished the fruit. 

     "I was wrong about you, thanks," River smiled. "January." I smiled. 

     "I knew you weren't going to call me Miss again," I muttered with a glint of amusement in my eyes. 

     "No way," agreed the boy then added, "If you don't mind."

     "I don't mind," I said. 

     "By the way, every one calls me Ri," he explained. Ri was pronounced "Rye". 

     "And everyone calls me Jan," I told him. He nodded. 

     "Well then Jan, I'm going to have to finish repairing this shelf," River said in a big voice. I giggled. 

     "You don't have to if you don't want to. I could get a real carpenter," I said. 

     "No thank you. I need the practice, plus I'm getting paid," he shrugged. I nodded and watched him. 

     "So....," I started. "What's your little sister's name?" 

    "I actually have three sisters," River coughed. 

     "Oh! You didn't' tell me," I said dumbly. 

     "I know."

     "What are their names?"

     "The youngest one, with the flu is Lilac. My two other sisters are seven and twins, there's Trinity and Rainbow. We normally call Lilac, Little and Trinity's Trin. Rainbow's nicknames is Rain. How'bout you? What's your sibling called? I recall my parents said you had a brother called Alan or something."

     "My brother's name is Alaska Grey Wylder but we call him Grey. Well, we're forced to. He doesn't like being called Alaska. When we were young though, I used to call him Al."

     "Alright-ho. This shelf is fixed. Thanks for the food Jan. I need to go now. I'm already late and the twins should be getting home from school now and they'll be too much for Dad to handle alone. Bye. And thanks again." I grabbed River's arm and stared him in the eye. 

     "I've got some blankets for you if you like. And some extra food. Ask for Desmond Sting, he'll pass them to you," I told him seriously. He nodded and, tools and cloth in hand, walked out. I watched him go and pulled my winter riding jacket off. Grey entered the room. 

     "What are you doing here?" he asked, munching on an apple. 

     "Reading," I replied. 

     "Who was that kid?" her muttered. 

     "Carpenter's apprentice," I answered. Grey raised his eyebrows and slumped into the armchair next to mine. 

     "How was Geography lessons?" I asked. 

     "You know the answer," Grey snorted. 

     "Bad," I nodded. 

     "Yep," he sighed. "As always." He stared into the fire and took another bite out of the apple. 

     "When's Papa coming home?" I questioned. 

     "Late," replied Grey. 

     "Where's mum?" I asked. 

     "I don't know," shrugged Grey. "She probably went down to Loraine's house again."

     "Probably," I agreed, "Where were you this morning?" 

     "I went over to Drake's house. We practiced some hunting a bit." 

     "It was only me and Papa at breakfast. Then he left to do something with Sir Bernardo. I didn't see you the whole day."

     "We went for a ride together." We didn't speak for a while, remembering the horse ride we had had earlier in the afternoon. I sighed and returned to my book which I knew would end with a happy ending. At least one story had a happy ending.