Strawberry Stone

CRYSTALS EVERYWHERE

The last thing Wisteria expected when she went downstairs to check on the noise was a teenager that had an expression shockingly like a gremlin's on their face, but hey sometimes life throws you a curve ball and all you can do is nosebleed profusely until either life apologizes or you scare everyone in your class. No, she wasn't speaking from experience.

But, to get back on topic, she'd just taken a singular step down the stairs when she came face to face with them. Her eyes met another pair, staying stuck on them like opposing magnets. Lakes of buttercup yellow stretched out for what felt like forever, hundreds of tales and memories hidden just below the surface. They almost sparkled, a beautiful twinkle set in their irises. Wisteria managed to snap out of it for a moment, enough to catch the rest of their appearance.

Slightly tan skin was speckled with dark freckles of uneven sizes, a light reddish tinge dusted over the cheeks and the bridge of the nose. Dark, curved eyebrows raised in surprise. Long wavy thunderbird red hair tumbled down over their shoulders, layered bangs framing their face, the rest reaching around the hips. They were pretty tall, much more than Wisteria, from her estimates, the stair taken in account.

Their outfit was composed of several layers, no doubt due to the cold generated by the rain: A black and white striped long-sleeve shirt under a loose crop top with large sleeves that ran along their biceps with tiles of screamin' and christi greens under what looked like stylized martian faces. Their lower half was covered by high waisted jeans that reached the crop top, leaving no skin uncovered, seemingly worn quite a lot. Christi green leg warmers poked out of their jeans, slightly covering a pair of mud-speckled sneakers.

The initial shock seemed to leave them as they leaned casually against the banister, like this was just another Tuesday. Sweat pearled on their forehead, an awkward smile only adding to the weird comedy of Wisteria's life. The entire situation reeked of "We're calling to inform you about your car's extended warranty".

"Yoo-" They started, awkwardly giving finger guns before stopping mid-way through the motion, as though only just now realizing what they were doing.

"What are you doing in my house??" Wisteria felt confused, but strangely not threatened. The person's demeanor had wiped away all remains of credibility, and now it just felt like encountering someone near the treehouse: weird because of the location. They stared at her for a moment, mouth opening and closing as they floundered for an answer.

"Would you accept it if I said that I accidentally came in?" They finally asked, attempting to maintain a facade of smooth charm that felt oddly like being flirted with as they attempted to fix a loose strand of hair. Suddenly, a loud bang came from downstairs, the person's head spinning around at a speed Wisteria was sure they'd get whiplash. They stared at the ground for a minute, before their eyes widened at something Wisteria couldn't see, glancing back towards her. "Shit. Could you stay up there for a second?"

"Like hell I'm staying up-" Wisteria started to protest, but the teen ran out of view. Wisteria quickly followed, stepping down the final stair to come face to face with a chaotic scene so weird she wouldn't have believed it had it not been right in front of her.

There, in the kitchen, was a family of badgers. As Wisteria's eyes traveled through the room, she counted at least half a dozen, maybe even more, a singular adult and many, many children. The bang had seemingly come from them knocking down a vase on the island counter, which currently lay on the floor, broken in dozens of shards. Wisteria felt a pang of frustration at that: the vase was one she'd made a few months prior, one that used to resemble a tree stump. The stranger stood on the opposite side of the island, holding the adult badger like a cat. They seemed to be scolding it in a language Wisteria didn't understand, speaking too fast for her to even get any idea of what they were saying.