Marcus returns to the willow tree again the next day.

Mikka's already there, playing with one of the willow's long, vinelike branches in her hands. She looks up at him, then grins and jumps down. "You came back! I hoped you would, but I didn't really know of you would! Did you bring your art book again?" She asks, moving a strand of hair out of her face. Marcus holds the book up, likening it to a shield, something to use to interact with this girl, although not quite directly. Something to protect himself. "Other than the Staggrys, do you have more drawings in there?" Mikka taps the book, and Marcus nods. "Yeah. I uh, I draw alot..do you want to see?" He may not REALLY want to talk to her (He had told his parents about her last night and instead of calm down they insisted he go see her again and try hanging out with her), but he'll at least TRY. "Sure! Come on, let's go sit in the tree again." 

This is how he finds himself, about an hour or so later, explaining the idea behind a creature he made, a humanoid being with white skin and what looks like a cape of spikes draped over its back and shoulders, which had the ability to teleport, disappearing in small, black, wispy clouds. "Okay, I've chosen all the names so far. You name this one." Mikka declares, poking his shoulder. "Uh.." For her, these names are EASY, like William. But he isn't Mikka. And he is not his brother. So how do you name something if you don't have that sort of mindset for it?

"Just look at it, see what FEELS right." Mikka encourages him, and so Marcus studies the picture. The eyes are sad, the posture hesitant and quiet. Something tranquil, peaceful. 

"Laryx?" He says.

Mikka shoves him gently. "Is that a choice or a question?" She chastises him. "I don't name these things!" Marcus protests. "Well you just did. Laryx." Mikka takes the pencil, which had been teetering near the edge of the branch dangerously, and writes the name down. Her handwriting is very fast, most, if not all of the letters connected to one another, but it isn't that fancy handwriting and it is still (mostly) legible. 

"There you go." She says, and Marcus hesitates.

"Do you want to draw something?" He offers the drawing pad to her, and the girl blinks. "Okay!" She replies after a second, but Marcus wonders if there was a bit of hesitation in her voice. Regardless, she accepts the book, and starts to draw.

Marcus watches her, as a shape appears under her fast, decisive strokes.

It's easy for him to lapse into watching the sketch appear, he did so many times with William.

"William, what're you making this time?" He asks. 

A boy, about 14, with messy blonde hair and dark eyes looks at him. "I'm calling him Matthew. He's a knight, defending his city and kingdom from bad guys, like the goblins and giants. He does this to protect his family." William explains, smiling at the drawing fondly. "Who's his family?" Marcus shifts to see the drawing better as his brother outlines the sword in his hand. "Well, he's got a little brother, and his parents, of course." William answers, and starts shading the blade. "Does his brother wanna fight bad guys too?" William's hand hesitates, although he collects himself so fast Marcus wonders if he was imagining it. "Matthew fights in the hopes that his brother won't have to. So that one day, he can stay home with him, and not worry about danger coming after them." After a few more minutes, the sketch is done. 

"There." He says, satisfied. 

"I wanna be like Matthew." Marcus declares suddenly. William laughs. "You're too young; you'd be his little brother. I'D be Matthew." He corrects, although he ruffles the younger boy's hair teasingly. 

"Well, when I'm OLDER, THEN I'd be Matthew!" Marcus insists. "Nope. Matthew ages with me. I'd still be him." Marcus pokes his brother's arm. "Then I'll be even BETTER than Matthew! His little brother will be so cool, he'll be jealous." William chuckles warmly. "I'm sure he will."

Marcus blinks. 

And realizes he's back in the tree.

Hastily wiping the wet spots starting to form in the corners of his eyes, Marcus focuses on the drawing Mikka has made. It's lucky she was so wrapped up in it, she didn't see him starting to cry. 

It's a boy, maybe 18. He's wearing simple clothes, and he seems happy. 

He looks familiar, but he's so different at the same time.

"Imma name him Jonah." Mikka announces. 

"He looks like a Micah." Marcus observes. "Well I named him, his name is now Jonah Sterling, and he's a fisher." She states. "Where's the fish?" Marcus points out. "At his HOUSE, he doesn't bring them EVERYWHERE, they smell." She replies, laughing a little. He humors her with a smile.  "We should become friends." Mikka's sudden thought surprises Marcus enough he takes a minute to comprehend this.

Friends? 

He's not sure how to DO that.

"Uh-"

"Oh come on, it'll be fun! We get along well, we both really love drawing, and, we both like this spot, so we'd run into eachother alot anyway." Mikka says, and Marcus considers. On one hand, isn't being called someone's friend a fancy way to state you two don't hate one another and enjoy the other's company?

Like interacting with normal people, but on a more regular basis.

But on the other, something's making him nervous. 

Is it just the fact he's used to being alone?

Or something else?

He realizes he's been quiet for a bit too long, and so he quickly makes a decision.

"Um, sure. Yeah. Let's be friends." He agrees, and Mikka grins. For her color scheme and the claim of not being much of a people person, she is quite energetic and outgoing.

"We're gonna do so many awesome things." She tells him.

He had no idea.