((For Silver))

[1stmacleod]

Kairos is very nice, and he's glad of the place to stay, but after five years of wandering Connor gets restless easily. His nightmares are back, if not as bad as they used to be, so he's restless and tired, which isn't a good combination. Teaching and sparring with Jelani helps occupy his time, though, and so does cooking for Kairos. He still has too much spare time, so he sits on the fringes of the Nexus, and watches, and puts off going home to his own world.

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[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor's reflexes are good, and all he sees is something flying his way, so he tries to both dodge and catch it at the same time. When he sees what's in his hand, he relaxes a little, and looks around.

[random_xtras]

Small bare feet skid to a stop in front of him, and a pair of big blue eyes look up through a curtain of tumbled silver curls. It's a little girlchild who looks like she can't be more than three years old, but who somehow feels a lot more permanent.

She also seems to glimmer just a little tiny bit, though she's currently too grimy for that feature to show much.

"I didn't mean for it to hit you," she says, those blue eyes looking up toward his frankly. "Can I have it back?"

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

For a heartbeat he just looks at her, and then he remembers the ball in his hand and offers it back. "It's okay, but you must have a good arm." He smiles gently.

[random_xtras]

He gets a serious little smile as she reaches with one hand and then tucks the ball against her side.

"I kicked it. My baby and I were playing football."

A doll that is no more than a knot tied in a piece of worn out wool fabric is held up in her other hand, the roughly drawn face on it turned toward him as the little girl's smile turns to a grave frown.

"I wanted to play with Kitty, but she's hiding again."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"...A good leg, then." Connor can't help himself from smiling. He remembers girls having dolls like that, when he was young. "Kitties usually don't like football much."

[random_xtras]

"Well, she likes chasing things. But I think the only football she likes is me after she ate someone's garden." She uses the arm attached to the hand holding the doll to try and push her hair away from her face, revealing one delicately pointed ear in the process. "Have you ever had a kitty try to eat your hair?"

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"N-no... I don't think so." He's had some pretty hairy encounters with big cats, but that's not something to tell little girls about. The pointed ear catches his attention, but he's starting to get used to the weird of the Nexus, and doesn't ask. "Does the kitty have a name?"

[random_xtras]

"Just kitty." She's slightly distracted by the need to do a tiny little dance, her small face brightening happily as she does so. "But Auntie Jaime calls her 'that dratted displacer beast'."

Those bright blue eyes turn back up to him, smiling. "I'm Silver. What's your name?"

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

If Connor had the slightest idea what a displacer was, he'd be incredibly distressed about now. Instead he just smiles back. "That's a pretty name. I'm Connor MacLeod, of the clan MacLeod." He doesn't get up, but gives her a seated bow. All little girls should be treated like princesses.

[random_xtras]

Seriousness returns as Silver bows back, though her eyes are still sparkling. Then she smiles again, having decided that she likes this guy. "I know somebody with a name that sounds like that. She's Aoife McCloud. She says she picked the name because she's gonna live a long time." More hair pushing. "Can I sit with you?"

Silver's usually not quite this chatty. But she's also a baby empath, and can feel sadness that she's pretty sure is coming from Connor.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

One eyebrow rises, and he wonders, a little. "That's... of course. Have a seat." She's interesting, and having someone so young to talk to is a nice distraction from his own sour thoughts.

[random_xtras]

First she puts her ball up, with the air of a child who isn't used to having bigger people do things like this for her. Then her doll is held in her teeth as she lifts the skirt of her woolen gown enough to hike a leg up. There's a bit of scrambling, and then she's leaning back comfortably with her legs stretched out in front of her and a grin of accomplishment on her face.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

He's left her plenty of room on the couch, and he watches calmly. Experience with John has taught him children like to do things for themselves. "Does your... baby have a name?" He catches himself before calling it a doll.