What Does It Mean?
"What does any of this mean?"
Fran extends her arm out so she could tangle her fingers in the grass. Ithersta's was nothing like the grass she was used to; it was softer and thinner. She didn't know if she liked it any better, but it was harder to grasp. With a firm tug, she pulled a few strands of them out from the ground.
"Now, now," Itward spoke from beside her. "The grass did nothing to you in order for you to harm it."
Mr. Midnight crawls onto Fran's lap and curls into a ball. She runs a hand along the tip of his head down to his waist. The sound of his purring made her much more calm. She closes her eyes for a second, then turns to her tall friend. She asks, "What does all of this mean?"
"Hm?" He asks, his eye sockets half lidded with a glance to her. Fran shakes her head.
"I heard you," Itward says. "I just didn't know if you were talking in a general perspective."
Fran says nothing as she pulls some more strands of grass out from the dirt. Mr. Midnight jumps out of her lap and walks around the both of them. Itward flinched when he felt the cat climb onto his shoulder and jumps onto his lamp.
"Hee hee!" Fran giggles. "Mr. Midnight, what are you doing?"
The cat doesn't respond and sniffs Itward's shirt. The skeleton picks him up and sets him aside, saying, "Whatever it is, I'll have none of it."
The cat ignores him and yawns, stretching and laying down in the grass. Fran watches the cat drift into sleep before turning back to Itward. He was currently observing the weather dial Cogwind gave to her a year ago. It was so much like him to be fascinated by something like that. He was intelligent, after all.
"Fran," He says, snapping her back into reality.
"I often think about it, too." He says. "Your question, that is."
Fran places a finger to her chin in thought. She didn't have terrible memory, but she recalled asked him a lot of questions before. She says, "About what it all means?"
Itward nods, and places the dial on the grass. He says, "Everything that happens has its purpose, and you cannot change that. No matter how much you want to."
The two of them remain silent for a few moments, letting those words sink in. Fran wraps her arms around her knees and pulls them to her chest. She asked, "Is that why you helped me get Mr. Midnight back?"
"Not just that..." He suddenly stood, leaning down to offer her a hand. Fran took it and stood, following him to wherever he was going. Mr. Midnight noticed they were leaving and immediately got up, springing to catch up with them. Fran held his hand nervously upon the sight of his flying machine.
"Then why DID you help me?" Fran asked, looking up at her friend. His eyes locked with hers.
"Because I saw what would have happened to you if I didn't. I couldn't let that happen."
He let go of her hand when they reached the machine. The mechanical bird whistled a song to greet them. Itward grabbed a wrench from a nearby toolbox and tightened some bolts. Fran sniffled, wiping a tear off from her cheek. Did he ever see the night her Mommy and Daddy died?
"Where would you like to go today, Fran?" Itward suddenly asked, placing the wrench back in the box. Mr. Midnight rubbed the bottom of her leg, so she leaned down to pick him up.
Turning to her tall, faithful friend, she said: "I want to spend the day with you."