“But you’ve got sticks growing from your head!”
baby fawnlock and lil john get to know each other :>
little people are hard to draw grgr“but you’ve got sticks growing from your head!”
“and you’ve got no tail!” Fawnlock shouted, folding his speckled arms and plonking down onto the little mound of earth.
Fawnlock liked his antlers, very much, and though he knew really that John hadn’t meant any harm - that he was only little and human and different, he couldn’t help his eyes prickling horribly.
John tugged at the neck of his jumper nervously, and shuffled forwards on his bum until he could reach out and trace the markings on Fawnlock’s frail shoulders.
“W- wait no - I didn’t mean -” John’s hand fluttered at his side, “they’re very n- nice though, actually -”
Fawnlock’s ears pricked towards the sound of John’s wobbly voice, and his head turned to follow them.
“Yes -” said John, squaring his shoulders, his voice a little more confident. “They are. B- brilliant, actually. Really brilliant. I wish I had some.”
Fawnlock’s eyes narrowed slightly, before he realised, looking into John’s bright open eyes and pinkening face, that he actually meant it.
“That - that isn’t what anyone else says,” Fawnlock admitted, scrambling nearer to John and reaching towards him, little tail twitching.
Fawnlock had decided that John must be quite different from the other humans he had seen before in the forest. They had been loud and large, and for the most part, there to hurt other things. Mycroft had warned him about them before of course, how they hate an awful lot, and sometimes their hate bubbles over and they bring it with them to the forest - but this was John, who was curious and had small shiny shoes on, and was just his size.
“What do other people say?” John asked quietly, watching Fawnlock’s precise fingers find his own.
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never spoken to one before.”