Cyrus was quiet as he crept towards the door, making sure both of his parents were still resting deeply as he unhooked his own tiny fur cape from a small, hooked root poking out from the wall and tied it about his neck. Being as careful as he could, he approached the stove, filling a little earthenware mug with piping hot cider. Balancing it carefully against his chest, he grabbed one of the larger pelts from a nearby basket and balled it up in his tiny arms as he tiptoed towards the main door. He’d already lifted the iron key to the door that had been inside his mother’s pocket—he felt bad to be misbehaving, but he felt even worse whenever he thought about his friend being all alone out in the harsh snow.

4th Day of Requestmas for @herkal! The wendigo jack AU but with a twist featuring their pink jack as a nymph that Cyrus befriends 🙂 Just some fluff involving those two with a mention of wendigo jack and rhys near the beginning!

The snow was really starting to come down outside.

Cyrus watched, his little hands pressed up against the thick glass windows of the massive, hollowed-out tree where he and his mother now lived. It was warm inside, the furniture covered in fluffy furs and fresh cider kept warm in a copper pot on the stove. But the glass against his palm was chilly, sending little goosebumps through his body.

Cyrus glanced over his shoulder over to where his mother and father were curled up together in a snug little corner, atop the straw-stuffed couch covered in clean hides. Rhys lay bundled in a warm wolf pelt as he rested atop Jack’s far larger body. Both omega and demon were sleeping soundly, their chests rising and falling in tandem with one another. Jack’s own black fur fluttered as Rhys’ breathed out calm and warm against his husband’s shoulder.

Cyrus was quiet as he crept towards the door, making sure both of his parents were still resting deeply as he unhooked his own tiny fur cape from a small, hooked root poking out from the wall and tied it about his neck. Being as careful as he could, he approached the stove, filling a little earthenware mug with piping hot cider. Balancing it carefully against his chest, he grabbed one of the larger pelts from a nearby basket and balled it up in his tiny arms as he tiptoed towards the main door. He’d already lifted the iron key to the door that had been inside his mother’s pocket—he felt bad to be misbehaving, but he felt even worse whenever he thought about his friend being all alone out in the harsh snow.

The winds tossed at his clothes as Cyrus stepped out of the warm comforts of home and out into the storm. Cold bit at his little body, but both the furs and the protective aura of his father kept him safe as he forged through the snow starting to pile on the ground. Despite the dark clouds cast over the forest, Cyrus felt no fear, having become so accustomed to the forest and the spirits dwelling within it that it no longer scared him. Even the gnarled trees, their branches bare of birds or leaves and silhouetted against the stormy sky didn’t deter him as he trundled through the forest, seeking out the familiar spots where he would find his friend.

He eventually found the familiar pink tree hunched on the flocked bed besides the now frozen stream. Its trunk was thin and pale, branches overburdened by snow with only a couple thin pink leaves poking through. Cyrus rushed to its side, nearly spilling the cider in his hurry. His friend looked very cold.

‘Mister! Mister, are you okay?” Cyrus called, his little voice misty in the cold air as he tramped over to the tree. He could almost see it quaking, wan bark quivering with every gust of wind that rattled its branches. Cyrus frowned at the sight, holding up the hot cider and the huge pelt, as if it would help to make his friend show himself and take the offered gifts.

“I have stuff for you! It’ll help you be warm in the storm!” He called above the whistling of the wind, hoping his friend would wake up, would hear him. Cyrus’ little heart leapt as he saw that bark tremble harder, finally smoothing out and shrinking down into skin. The entire tree shuddered, snow tumbling from the branches as they vanished into a pair of arms. The leaves slithered together, tumbling in long locks of pink hair down to shaking shoulders that sprung from knots in the tree’s trunk.

Cyrus beamed in the relief at the sight of his friend, though he could see how much the cold was affecting him. His skin was as pale as the snow, and his hair was powdered with frost. He huddled in place, arms wrapped tightly around his body as he looked down at Cyrus, a tiny smile gracing his lips even as they starting to turn blue.

“Oh no…just like I thought, you’re cold!” Cyrus exclaimed, standing on his tiptoes as he held out the pelt to the nymph. His eyes widened as he looked at the offered gift, carefully taking it with cold, trembling fingers. Despite the chill, he managed to drape the pelt about his shoulders, gratefully rubbing the warm fur against his body.

“There you go! Drink this, too—um, I dunno if it’s weird ‘cause it’s apples, but it’s all I got!” Cyrus handed him the mug with both hands, like his mother had taught him. The nymph blinked placidly at the drink for a moment, before gratefully taking it and bringing the steaming cider up to his frozen lips.

Cyrus smiled, letting out a puff of a giggle as the nymph’s face lit up, the delicious cider helping to warm up his core. The nymph licked his lips, smiling back at the young boy as he crouched down next to him in the snow, offering a sip of the cider.

“Oh, no thanks mister, I’ve got plenty of cider back home! That’s all for you!” Cyrus promised, allowing the nymph to drink deeply of the cup until it was all gone. The young boy wanted to stay around and play more, but a sharp caw rang out above the whistling winds, drawing his attention to where one of his father’s ravens had perched on one of the tree branches above, its eyes glittering with interest. Cyrus knew that the nymphs were afraid of his father, though he still didn’t understand why. His dad was cool, and all the nymphs were cool too. He loved both of them and wanted them to get along, but neither seemed to want to yet.

“Sorry….guess I should get back home, now…” Cyrus shuffled his feet for a moment, before leaning in and giving his friend a big hug and rubbing his face against the nymph’s sunken chest. He could feel his heart beating warmly underneath his skin, giving him hope that his little gifts had helped.

“I’ll try to bring you more cider tomorrow, okay? And maybe some pie if mama bakes it!” Cyrus called as he trundled back towards his home, leaving the nymph wrapped up in the fur on the bank of the river. Despite the storm around him, the sprite still smiled, the warmth of friendship blossoming through his body as he faced another cold night out in the forest.