Hana watched over the table as her mother pulled the blue wax into different shapes, allowing the excess molten liquid to drip into the glass dish below. "Pay attention Hana" she instructed, and the four-year-old narrowed her eyes in concentration.

Lauren put the wax to one side and turned off the flame. The little bluebird candle sat on the perch, its wings neatly folded. Each feather was perfectly crafted, and its eyes seemed to glint with buried personality.

Hana watched as her mother lit the wick with a match and then shook the wood until the flame extinguished. A few seconds passed where nothing happened, but when the flame reached the blue wax, the bird gave a cheep and ruffled its wings. Tilting its head, it gave another little experimental chirp.

Hana's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. This was the first time she had been allowed into her mother's workshop, and her eyes had not left the little figure from the second Lauren began crafting. The bird tweeted again and her mother took Hana's small hand, holding it out. The bird blinked a few times before hopping from the perch to Hana's outstretched hand, it's little wax feet hardly noticeable on her skin.

The little girl looked at her mother and asked: "What's its name?" Lauren smiled and kissed her daughter's cheek, bending down to be level with her. Even though Hana was standing on a chair, the top of her torso just bearly cleared the table's surface.

"What do you think his name is?" Her Mamo asked. Screwing up her face in thought, Hana ran through the few names she knew.

"I'm not sure" she finally said. "He doesn't seem like any of the names I'm thinking off" she looked up at her mother, her face almost the same as her own. Lauren smiled and looked back at the little bluebird.

"How about you ask him?" She suggested with a knowing smile. The girl looked at the bird and moved slightly so that her nose was a few centimetres from his beak.

"Excuse me, Mr Bluebird," she said politely. "What's your name?" The bird tilted his head, obviously confused. Hana looked up at her mother. "I don't think he understands me," she said. Lauren smiled.

"If he doesn't understand our language, why don't we try his language?" She hinted again, watching with amusement. Hana turned back to the bluebird and paused before tentatively tweeting a few times. The bird chirped twice before waiting, and Hana's eyes lit up.

"His name is Pui!" She said excitedly. "Hello, Pui!" She greeted the bird, who stared blankly. Hana remembered, and then tweeted again. The bird made a face that could have almost been a smile and tweeted back. Hana looked confused for a moment before realisation came to her face. She cheeped five or so times and grinned.

"What are you talking about?" Lauren asked, even though she understood them both perfectly.

"He asked me what my name was!" Her daughter exclaimed excitedly. Pui cheeped a few more times, and Hana blushed slightly. "And he said my name is just as beautiful as I am!" She grinned proudly. Lauren grinned.

"That's wonderful! I think you've made a new friend!" She looked at Pui and noticed that his head was looking decidedly saggier. "But Pui's tired now and he's got to sleep," she said. Hana's face fell, but she lifted her hand to the perch, and Pui hopped over before settling down. Lauren lifted her daughter to her hip so she could see him better before saying: "Good Night Pui" Hana smiled and waved.

"Good Night Pui" she repeated softly, and Pui chirped once more before her mother blew out the flame and he froze, back to being a simple candle.

Lauren set her daughter down and bent to be at her level. "Now, Hana. I need you to listen carefully" her brown eyes met Hana's and she knew she had her attention. "You cannot come into this workshop without me. Is that understood?" Hana nodded. Lauren smiled. "Good. Now, let's go ask Evelyn how dinner's coming, shall we?" Hana nodded excitedly and she skipped off ahead of her mother.

As Lauren was about to close the door behind her, Pui caught her gaze from across the room. He was facing a painting she kept in the room for old times sake, and she couldn't help but glance at it. Her grandmother stared back at her, an intricate silver matchbox balanced in the palm of her hand. Lauren sighed, knowing she shouldn't have shown Hana the workshop. But if the prophecy was true... She needed to be prepared. And hopefully, the matches would one day save her life... 

Word Count: 787

Total Word Count: 787