"You're really skinny." A little girl who couldn't have been older than four poked me in the ribs.

I frowned and swatted her hand away. "And you're really annoying."

She grinned at me. "I know! I tell Bren I'm special, and she tells me I'm especially ag—agra—" Her face pinched in concentration. "Aggravating. That's good, right? It's good to be special."

"Nirrin, shoo!" Bren came out of a large cabin holding a shirt. "Stop pestering our new guest."

The cabin appeared to be the largest in this forest community, though I couldn't see all of it because of the trees. I'd waited outside while she went in to get the shirt. That's when the little girl had found me.

Nirrin backed away a few steps but didn't leave.

"I think this should fit you." Bren handed me the folded shirt.

"Th-thank you," I stuttered, unused to such generosity. I took the shirt and held it to my chest. The material felt softer than deer hide. I'd never seen it before.

"Can I get a new dress?" Nirrin asked, as if Bren were handing out presents.

"I can give you a new chore instead, how about that?"

My eyebrows flew up at how quickly Nirrin disappeared.

Bren shook her head. "That girl is a human tornado. Although she did have a point. You could do with some food, I'm guessing."

I paused to think of a way to say "Yes, I want all the food!" without appearing too needy.

She didn't wait for me to reply. Just put a firm hand on my back to propel me forward. We soon arrived at a large clearing with fire pits, rough-hewn tables, and benches. The smell of food made my mouth water. A few children clustered together eating, while a greater number of them ran among the trees, shrieking as they played some kind of game while waving sticks in the air.

I spotted the small but vocal Nirrin dashing after them. "I have a stick now! Hey! Wait for me!"

Bren called out to a nearby woman. "You all right watching them a bit longer? I seem to have picked up an additional errand."

The woman gave me a curious glance before nodding.

Bren handed me a tray and gestured to a table arranged with corn cakes, some kind of gruel, and a few scattered berries. I went straight for the corn cakes and shoved one into my mouth.

"When you're done imitating a bush pig, use that tray like a human being and come sit with me." Bren said before selecting an empty table.

I swallowed my mouthful, threw more cakes onto my tray, and headed in her direction. I neatly straightened the items on my tray before sitting, just in case.

"What brings you to Foresthome?" she asked while I ate.

Foresthome. Was that the name of this place?

I considered her question. I could tell her I ran away from my tribe, but then she might ask why. And I wasn't about to reveal that I was an Aberration. This seemed like a nice place for a fresh start.

I must have taken too long to think all this, because she went on. "From the look of things, I suppose the why doesn't matter. We were all lost at one time or another. Foresthome is where people get found. I'm just sorry it was Davin who found you."

I recalled how he'd said I was tough, and smiled. "He's not so bad."

Bren scoffed. "You haven't spent enough time with him." She went on to explain how everyone contributed in some way to the welfare of the community, and that respect for one another was of utmost importance. She then paused and said, "Well, in Davin's case, tolerance works too, if respect is a hardship."

A sudden yowling noise caused both birdsong and conversation to cease.

I looked around in alarm.

Then I heard it again. The yowling was actually crying.

Bren stood with a sigh. "I should probably see what this is about."

As she headed to where the children had been playing, Nirrin slid into the now-vacant seat. Her small features were drawn into a pout. I hadn't known her for long, but I got the impression she was usually cheerful. Pushy, but cheerful.

"The boys won't let me play warriors with them," she volunteered, as if I had asked. "They say I can't play because I'm a girl." She propped her chin with both hands on the table.

She was pretty well-spoken for a four-year-old. I looked over to where the boys ran around brandishing sticks. "Warriors are stupid," I said, thinking of the Plainsmen back home. My former home, I corrected myself.

She looked at them, then back at me with doubt in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I know from personal experience."

She gawked at me with round eyes. "What kind of experience?"

I hesitated, not really wanting to share, but not wanting her to idolize warriors like those dumb boys did.

I was saved from answering.

"Nirrin did it!" a shrill voice said.

Nirrin glared down at the table, hunching as if to hide her head between her shoulders.

"What did you do?" I whispered, glancing over at the unhappy boy.

"She hit me with a stick!" the boy wailed in a tone I suspected was more from wounded pride than an actual injury.

"You did that?" I asked, maintaining my whisper.

A small, sly grin replaced the frown, and her brown eyes glinted with mischief when she looked at me. "I had the biggest stick."

She didn't regret her actions at all.

I looked at the cluster of boys surrounding Bren as she attempted to calm the boy. "Sounds like maybe you were the smart warrior," I said. "Dumb warriors lose a lot."

Her face brightened even more. "I'm a smart warrior?"

I nodded, oddly pleased to make this little girl feel good.

"And he's a loser!" she said a little too gleefully.

"Shh! Not so loud. You're already in trouble."

Her eyes grew big again and she nodded.

Nirrin at four... an incorrigible imp even then! I think she deserves a vote.