"Why....am I even here?" a young teenager lamented to himself.

Amazing. Even in a stupid knitted party hat that more resembles a funny elf hat, Yuna makes the look work. What a good little budding model he makes.

"You're here because I'm awesome!" Lukas declares.

"You're here because you've been honored with babysitter duty," I answer him as well.

These are apparently not acceptable enough answers nor comforts. For Yuna continues to stare into space, confusedly at his surroundings. Which is practically nothing but snow, snow, and even more snow.

Okay, it's not that bad?

We have an igloo! Or well, an igloo under construction.

"And push it all the way, that way!" my grampa instructs.

He makes a very big and dramatic show of Lilyanne's epic push. A premade ice block far too large and heavy for her to really do anything with. Still, she pushed onwards, her face red with exertion.

With a casual lean of his hand, Grampa helps her move the oversized ice cube along. All the way into spiraling place.

"Yaaaaaay, I did it grampy!" my sister hops up and down. Sincerely taking all the credit.

Ah kids, so young and dumb.

"Almost pumpkinpants! Now we work on getting it up there" Grampa points up.

As the walls of the igloo get higher and higher, the blocks get smaller. But they're still intimidatingly hard to balance. Especially at this size. For a temporary igloo, complete with extra snow and ice whipped up just for this occasion, Grampa is making it a bit too big. I would say it's the size of a community center room.

Looking up to where Grampa trails his fingers, Amar balances precariously. A risky position no good and normally supervised children should be in. Even if there are piles of snow to catch one's fall. Mittens, smartly provided by Gable, keep his little hands warm as he packs the ice bricks into their actual place.

Like playing with some life-sized building blocks. How fun.

Lukas can make the frozen blocks, as he did a lot of these building supplies. He can bevel the ledges with some control. He can freeze them into place or add in little details according to Grampa's directions.

But creating a whole igloo is out of his skill range. Or more likely, his current knowledge.

After all this kid is only turning seven.

"Like this?" Amar calls down, setting another part of the wall into place.

"You got it kiddo~ Technically, the best way is to build it up in a spiral. Follow that path! Domes are one of the strongest structures in the world! But you dumplings are just a bit, or a lot, too short so...." Grampa helps the kid out by packing up more blocks for Amar to run over and pack.

It's quite reasonable for kids to enjoy these sorts of games and toys. Adults too. In fact, I can recall in another world a popular brand of colorful building bricks that were intensely painful when stepped on.

A basic! Fun for all ages. Make a baby tower, a too complicated spaceship set with over 7000 pieces, or even a giant Japanese robot monstrosity with all the sharp pointy bits.

Ow, ow, ow, my feet hurt in the memory. Damn it guys.

The point is these children are having a grand time building an igloo.

"Homewrecker! Rosa! Come pway!" a baby girl yells in joy.

My little sister fumbles and slides her way over to the one charcoal and magic fueled foreign brazier. A beautifully carved ornate box, with little waste despite the warmth radiated out. Our little heat grill, which we huddle around like hobos to a fancy trash fire.

"...No." Yuna barely looks down at her, refusing to budge from his blanket.

It's not his fault that he was suddenly popped over here while innocently with Amar. As if by strange overbearing magic. Very underdressed and unprepared for the sudden temperature drop between the troops and the middle of this already frost-laden forest.

Thus, he smartly refuses to move once under the covers and by a stable source of heat. At least until Gable rummages something fitting for him to wear.

What? I don't keep non-kiddy clothes in my purse.

"Warm up first Lilyanne." I pull at her to put her hands over the warm steam and fire.

Fat pods of giant string beans and different breeds of potatoes cook slowly over the heat with a partial grill. Sprinkled only with a bit of sea salt for now. Yet the smell and slight char are very appetizing.

A small bucket of butter keeps chilled nearby in a natural ice cooler. When they're done cooking, Grampa says we can snack on them.

Such a simple thing, and yet I feel tingles of excitement and hunger.

Must be the weather and atmosphere. A warm crackling fire in the middle of a faraway winter wonderland that is certainly not my home territory.

They say a generation or two ago, some things like potatoes weren't even known in our lands. It's a very strange concept to think about.

Local commoners already have a pretty limited diet. All based on what's available around the land. It's not like they have supermarkets to ship them stuff, nor would they be able to afford it. So it's hard to imagine their sad selection being even less than what it already is today. We have a hard enough time filling bellies as is!?

But I suppose Grampa is good for something. I'll give him that.

"Lilyboo is right! Get back up here pumpkin. Can't have you baking like a potato!" Grampa declares.

"Baking potato Rosa." Lily claps.

I am not a potato! How dare anyone think so?

"Fine. Yuna, watch my sister and don't let anything burn. Not that you're moving anytime soon." I get up to take my turn at igloo making.

"You got it Princess Potato. " Yuna pokes at the grill with a pair of wooden tongs.

"Excuse you!" I huff, making my way to where Grampa indicates for me to stand.

It's igloo building 101, Grampa edition. Since Lukas's snow blocks aren't up to standard, we have to cut or even pack them further. It takes snow of a certain denseness to be building worthy.

"Bevel the edges. By the sides! Angles. Careful with that. Don't break the snow but don't worry about it, work fluidly. " Grampa instructs, helping me with some very blunt tools.

"Why can't Lukas make better blocks?" I shaved and saw, making shaved snow dust.

"Hey!" calls the little freezer, defending himself.

From where he stomps, Lukas packs more ice and snow into the premade molds. Very helpful in making them smooth and workable instead of just...clumps.

You know what, that's fair. Can't expect too much from a child.

Magic or no, you can't just expect a kid to be a master ice engineer. Or much of anything. Too much fantasy.

When a block is ready, it goes up. With Grampa lifting it into place, and a kiddy pushing and filing it rightfully snug. Sometimes snow sprinkles down for that very reason, as the ice walls pile higher and higher up.

Since this is a larger than average igloo, a few foundation poles are set up into place. I guess it would be more accurate to call it a snowy clubhouse.

Earlier, we built a much smaller traditional igloo for practice. By smaller, I mean hardly enough for Grampa to stand and lay across. Fun personal prison size. But the practice and demonstration round is over. Now we suffer from making this!

Chilly chilly! After a while, my fingers feel cold even through these mittens.

Apparently, gloves don't even come in kiddy sizes. Which is fair, who's gonna make them? Also, I think snow somehow melted into my coat?

When Gable picked my sister and I up, we were really not expecting this.

I almost miss that ridiculous but warm cage. I mean- 'playpen'.

Which is why we have to run back and forth to the magic brazier to warm up at times. Much to the tutting grimace of Yuna.

"I did not sign up for this." the young teenager shivers.

Despite his complaint, he opens up his blanket when Amar huddles on over. The time limit for his igloo building cold resistance well and out. Under the sheets Amar disappears, only to shake his little head out under Yuna's. Warming up and cuddly in the grumpy teenager's lap.

My little sister gasps, for she did not realize that was even an option.

"Lily too!" she clamors with a need to be involved in...everything.

"No you feral little canine, no AHhh that's Cold!?!" Yuna yelps, unable to stop her in time from slipping under the edge of the blanket and wiggling her way through.

We need better snow clothes. Yuna especially.

Why can't we have jackets? What's wrong with jackets or coats? What the hell is with all these cloaks and capes?!

Is it for the aesthetics? Do people just want to look dramatic, with it flowing in the biting wind and rain? Or most reasonably, it's just much easier to sew.

I miss modern times and modern stores.

"Thank you for watching over the children, it's easier with another set of eyes" my blessed savior arrives back again.

Yuna gulps, silent with the nerves and politeness of any paid babysitter around the parents. With a silent breath, he nods shakily, quickly distracted with not one but two kiddies under the blanket. From a slightly annoyed Amar, who makes what looks to be a kicking motion, to my little sister squirming around and possibly getting kicked.

With Gable's beauty alone, that sweet tremble of his low mature voice, all is forgiven. Even the whole dropping me in SNOW thing.

That and he brought drinks! Hot piping.....

"Kinderpunch!!!" Lukas drops down from where he was scaling and packing igloo ice. Racing towards his blessed caretaker.

"...Kinderpunsch." Gable sighs.

"Punch!" Lukas repeats with exactly that motion, fist into the air.

".....We'll work on it." Gable pours out the mulled drink into small wooden cups. Perfect for little kids to blow on.

One for everyone. Even the freezing babysitter. Ok, especially the freezing babysitter. Just what we all need!

Ahhhhh, this cinnamon citrusy fruit tea punch is so Christmas like! Even if such a holiday doesn't even exist in this world. But all this sudden snow and dense forest sure make it feel like it. So warm and tasty, I feel it heating me from the inside out!

"Do I get the non-kinder version?" Grampa calls out from where he was working on the roofing.

Out of annoyance, Gable finally throws a log at the stupid fool who thought it was a good idea to build an igloo, for fun. A whole log!

Unfortunately, it does not knock my grampa down in the head.

"Thanks, Gabey cakes! You're the best!" Grampa catches the thing perfectly, unscrewing the top of the wood as if it were a steaming thermos.

Which would make a lot more sense than Gable just randomly throwing tree logs at someone, even if that someone is my crazy grampa.

"Try some of these on for size. I think these will do, for your size and growth. Haven't touched Butter's old things in years. Not since she...Surprisingly nostalgic....but they were just clean spelled. Take whatever you would like, or all of it. Thank you again for taking care of the children." Gable shines and sparkles like the perfect parent.

I wouldn't be surprised if everyone under and over the age of puberty fell in love with him right at this very moment.

But Yuna is not phased. More grateful for warm clothes than the beautiful godly elfen man who provides it. Pffft how professional.

Perhaps he too is just a child? A babysitter aged grumpy teenager, but a child nonetheless.

"I've been stuck watching these two for years anyway. Thank you." Yuna thumbs between the boys before he takes the piled lump Gable provides in a woolen sack.

Takes but then looks around between snow, snow, and more snow.

"You can change in the small igloo. I just set some furs and a lamp in there so it won't be absolutely freezing." Gable chuckles.

As if he were not a statue made of perfection. Oh god, even his laugh lines only serve to highlight the natural beauty of his pink lips and storm ridden grey eyes. The tufts of fur on the neck of his cloak simply showing off how long and elegant he is.

Dear gods and goddesses of this world, how can such a divine being walk among us mere mortals?

"What she saying now?" Lukas whisper shouts, his breath a bit visible.

"It's so cold that inside Rosa's head froze. She likes Gable's furs. " Amar sips his kiddy punch happily.

"Ooooohh." Lukas nods into his.

"Too hot, phew phew pheeeew." Lilyannbe blows greedily, trying to cool down her mug to gulp down.

Yuna chugs down the rest of his mug, takes a deep breath, and then bolts for the first igloo. Apparently now a changing room. Off he goes, determined to spend as little time in the frozen wasteland of Lukas's and Grampa's playground.

Wait, am I understanding correctly that those are my mother's old things? Butters? Buttercup? Isn't that what...yep. Have fun fitting in my mother's preteen dresses Yuna.

I joke. Everyone wears cloaks and tunics, some longer than others. Most can't afford to gender clothes so much. Especially when it comes to hand me downs.

After all, going to the store and buying new clothes isn't even an option for most people. Every household is responsible for their own sustenance and necessities, including clothing. It's not just out here but the same case for those who live in the cities.

People can buy fabric or frames or not weave their own, then rework them for their needs at home. There's little waste since this is not a society that can afford that.

So it doesn't surprise me that Gable has mysterious stocks of anything. Nor these very suspiciously grandmotherly hobbies. Not that Gable can do any wrong of course.

Knit and crochet those socks away!

A noble however has their own tailors or people to custom measure and create clothing for them. Thus while tailors have their work, there are little to no pre-cut options. Not that I know of at least?

It's why even as nobles, many women must learn how to sew and embroider. It's a necessary and very commonplace skill. More delicate and time bleeding needlework is then seen with more class and grace.

I, of course, failed at being a good and graceful woman.

Seriously, who cares if a noblewoman, a potential queen even, can embroider the alphabet in pretty flowers? 'Can she count expenses' or 'govern a territory effectively' should be the important questions.

"Rosa? Lily's butt is coldies." my perfect lady-like sister turns her soggy tush towards me.

"It's because you didn't wear your cloak properly. Or...any pants. " I pat at her bottom.

All hail queen Lilyanne a lifetime ago, I do not wonder how she did. In fact, spare me, I'd rather not know.

"Ish all wet and soggies. " she turns her head to look at. Pouting with her butt sticking out.

"Yes Lilyanne, that's what playing in the snow does." I help.

Sliding down the igloo does not help with that either. Someone invent more water and snow proof clothing in my size, please?

No one? Just me?

Well, poop.

Since I have no time for that, nor the resources here, we settle for Gable changing out and layering up Lilyanne in even more clothes he rummaged up.

"Are those mine?" Lukas gasps in a horrified accusation.

"Hmmm perhaps. Are you the one who added shrinking powder instead of the cleaning powder?" Gable tsks, drying off Lilyanne where need be before pulling on the strange but much warmer looking kiddy stockings and poofy diaper like shorts.

"Ummm....maaaaaaybe,...they didn't shrink enough to fit any of the chicken..." Lukas looks away suddenly, foot digging into the snow.

Children are so naughty. Guess they're Lilyanne's now.

Gasp.

This is...this is the first time Lilyanne has worn hand-me-downs. Ever! In any lifetime?!!

What kind of peasant mess is this?! Are we ruining her?

"Butt warmer now! Yaaaay!" she responds to being dried and roasted up in front of the brazier fire.

How very different from the teenaged Lilyanne in my memories. The one who was so good at everything....none at that useful.

You know what. Nevermind. There's already something very off with this strange little girl but it sure beats having a repeat of what we got before. Take some cold slushy butts and oddly shrunk Lukas hand me downs my little sister dear. Let's learn some strange but important life lessons!

"What are these made out of?" Amar kicks up his feet.

Also clad in what was presumably Lukas's stuff. Smaller but extra padded up for the cold.

"Seals and fish!" Lukas kicks up the matching patterned snow boots.

"And wool, Lukywookie poo. Hairy seals don't keep warm with underfur but their fat! Hunt and craft in combinations! Survival takes thinking!" Grampa yells from where he continues piling the snow-packed walls up higher and higher.

Well, that explains why my new but thin mittens still get cold despite their waterproofing.

And yes, they are mine now. Forget you, Lukas. You live with Gable.

Yeah, don't try to go vegan in this world. Got it?

It's just not feasible with all the beasts and monsters. Nor is wasting anything, like their leather and skins.

"Oh. Cool." Amar slurps his drink.

The kid quickly gets to the bottom of his cup and he looks all the sadder for it. A tiny face teary in layers of floof. He looks up, not hopefully, but with such eyes that you just can't bear to say no to.

Hey, wait, no fair. Gable, I want a refill too!

"Don't chug and rush. " Gable tuts, already handing Amar a cinnamon kiddy punch number two.

"Homewrecker?" Lily looks around for her new favorite babysitter.

Unlike Georgie, the other babysitter seems to treat Lilyanne as the "feral" little dog she sometimes....is. This includes playing flinging fetch and fearful belly rubs with his foot. When he drops food to the floor, she sometimes even catches it in her mouth. It is head-scratching how Lilyanne can like that, but I have long given up on trying to understand all small children.

"Oh, I'mma go check up on him?" Amar looks up again. Blinking those Gable's attention-stealing crocodile eyes of his. How dare he?!

Gable pours another hot mug for the boy to deliver, and pats him on his way.

Oh how practically evil!

"Wait up!" Lukas jumps to tag along, following to the first little igloo.

"Lily too!" monkey see monkey do.

"And I will stay and have Gable all to myself." I realize the implications.

Just Gable and I by the fire in a winter wonderland. How scenic! How romantic! How-

But unfortunately, Lukas has lifted me up and carried me along with the rest of the kids. Damn that minion's mochi strength! It ruins everything!

Oh, that gives me an idea. Can we use our risotto rice to try to make mochi again? Hmmm.

"Home wrecker~" my little sister runs ahead.

No need to crawl to enter the igloo, we're just that short.

"Yuna? Are you frozen? Oh, this is soft." Amar carefully balances the drinks close to his chest. Keeping them as warm as possible as he maneuvers through the fur-covered doorway that Gable must have set up.

Since that certainly wasn't there before.

"Homewrecker!" Lilyanne pounces, snuggling on the fur rugs and the layers that Yuna has seemed to bury himself under.

"It's like a marble in here.....but warmer...I am not...moving. " said homewrecker makes himself known.

"Finish getting dressed already, I wanna go back to Gable. " I point and order.

"Yeah, back to buildings and potatoes!" Lukas agrees, finally setting me down once we pass the fur and skin flaps.

The igloo is a lot bigger now that grampa isn't in here imposing up all the space. The floors are covered with various furs, a stool, an oil and fire-lit lamp, and Yuna's donation bag. Making the space a lot more comfortable to be in.

But it's the muffled white glow that takes my breath away.

It really does look like being in a marble in here. The snow is partially translucent, giving any outside light seeping in this unreal filter effect. The walls, thicker than they appear, quiet the outside world entirely.

No wind. No oldies yelling at one another over the strangest things. Nothing outside at all.

"More punch? Do you need help?" Amar offers up the precious cup of tasty warmth.

"...." Yuna seems to silently converse. Nothing but a grumpy face in a frazzle of fur carpet but Amar goes up to hand him the drink anyway.

"They're not cursed or spelled or anything right?" Yuna makes to remove the makeshift fur blankets. Revealing that he did select a new outfit and layered up.

He looks surprisingly normal.

Thicker tunics layers that go to his knees. A warm and fuzzy underlined vest died up with a surprisingly luxurious belt. Sturdy dark arm guards with a rough leather for good grips. He just needs to pick a cloak, hat, wiggle in some actual snow boots then he's good to go.

Wow, Gable sure packed a lot of clothes.

I think I misunderstood. There's no way this is my mother's old stuff from what? Her early to mid-teen years? Are those murder spikes?

I need to clean my ears. Maybe they have snow in them.

"This one feels good." Amar plays with the selection, pulling out a furry bucket hat that covers the ears, presenting it to Yuna for inspection.

Fur clothing is generally seen as something only savages who can't afford any better would wear. But that's only when you're not freezing your asses off in need.

In the near future, it becomes more socially fashionable among nobles. With the best materials sold to their tailors for trim and accessories. But it had not trickled down anywhere to even the highest servant yet. Definitely not among commoners trying to appear richer than they are.

Yuna however seems to not know or care about that. As do many troop members, foreign or not. Functionality and survivability above all.

"Yeah, give me that one." Yuna shrugs, or shivers to warm up. Same thing.

We plop it on his head and laugh as he figures out the boot like long stockings.

"This one!" I rummage through the pack, waving out the rural dress-up options.

"That one!" Lukas holds out one of the murder spikes items.

"Cheesies!" Lilyanne rolls out a light mustard yellow short cloak.

Each child picks and presents an item. One turns to two, then more and more.

"I look...like an idiot. " Yuna deadpans, staying relatively still for us to giggle and pile on the clothes. Maneuvering as we mix and match kirtles to funny trousers, smocks to cloaks, and more.

The teenage babysitter sits still enough to finish his punch, sneering as we pull and prod with our fun. Something we can all get into equally, unlike the igloo building.

It's a lot more amusing than dressing a snowman since Yuna reacts quite well. Even occasionally barking how he couldn't move or how he wasn't wearing something.

It's also a lot warmer and nicer inside here. Like playing inside a gray-blue marble, the floors soft in furs. Entirely cut off from the outside world, silent but for the childish laughter and panting, short of breath from running in circles throwing thick cloths. A space made magical with nothing but children and a bit of instruction and help.

It's a terribly odd concept, isn't it? That this was built without magic?

Sure Lukas helped out with the ice, practicing his own gifts, and Gable himself is magical. But all this? Stacking. Structure. Just the simple spin of honest to god innocent kids warming up the air in more than just the physical way?

A very mundanely strange thing indeed. In a world where magic does exist and takes up so much of a pedestal of importance despite its rareness.

It's stupid. How much it's celebrated.

Have magic. Get rich quick. Save everyone and everything ever. Live the rest of your life in heroic grandeur.

That's not how it works.

Nothing is that easy. Not even for the fairy tale heroes.

"Am I done?" groans the human boy underneath the pile of clothes we've messily created.

"Of course not. Everyone, fold back up what we're not using. Come on. Snap snap. Don't groan at me, you children. " I quite literally snap. Teaching every brat here responsibility and how to pick up for themselves.

If only it was that easy for the rest of the world.

When Yuna shakes off the extra weight and fabric, he does so with a greatly dramatic sigh. Blowing up the hair that fell into his face. Working to tie up the slightly longer than chin-length hair back into something neat. The darker roots of blond showing clear at the nape of his neck, looking almost dyed if I didn't know how it was natural.

Sometimes, some very intrusive questions want to make their way to the surface. From somewhere innocently curious, to the opening of my two lips.

Not everyone in the world has magic. But it certainly is easier. Makes things a hell of a lot easier to have any sort of edge, tools.

So how does a boy like Yuna, with his deceptively lean limbs, golden warm skin, and eyes like rebellion, make it all the way here? How did he first make it into the troops? How in the world can he fight?

My part-time babysitter isn't famous or anything. I don't know him nor do I know how I can use him in the future.

He just stuck around? Or more like he came with the package that was the minions.

"How did you become a babysitter?" I let that much escape.

Because he really does look, nor sound like that type? He's too grumpy. Too rough and crass. Even his snarky mouth isn't child-appropriate most of the time. In no way does he fit the qualifications. But yet here he is. All snarky on the outside but soft in letting us bury him in our dress ups and games. Like a hedgehog with a soft underbelly.

I can't say much about Lilyanne, with her tendency to trust every other strange boy under the sky. But Lukas and Amar? They stuck to this strange character since the beginning no?

As much as I doubt their mental facilities at times, they wouldn't just familiarize themselves to this extent around a useless person. They wouldn't trust him so much?

"What do you mean how? I got dragged here." Yuna dismisses. Sounding very much like he wants no part in this.

His eyes roll and he even swats my baby sister off with a single flap of fabric. Making her go "wheeeeee" by rolling off the unfolded mess of clothes.

A very bad babysitter indeed.

"Yuna's a nice one! He yells a lot and back then he helped me learn and practice all the weird funny words I didn't know when I was younger and dumbers. " Lukas declares, oddly understanding my original question.

"You were feral, I still think you sometimes are. " Yuna grumbles, taking his turn to push Lukas off his neck.

The snow-colored mochi however is a very tough grappler so thus Yuna is forced to compromise and move Lukas around. Like a human child scarf, balancing at a much more breathable position.

"No, I'm not, thaaaaat one is. I'm much better and I learned more words lots faster and I'm cooler and awesomer and I don't smell like moldy stinky cheese. " Lukas says in all seriousness.

To that, my graceful sister blows a big fat raspberry at the older insulting child. Her tongue slobbering wetly to both Lukas's and Yuna's "ew".

"He helped you with language lessons?" I translate the Lukas speak in my head.

"If by language, you mean people and not oinking, grunting, or howling." Yuna deadpans.

"Humans are funny!" Lukas declares as if he weren't one himself.

"You still howl at the moon don't you?" Yuna turns to the child.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooo~ That's silly, you only gotta howl back at the call of the mppppfmmmm-" Lukas gets muffled by the babysitter. Who quite plainly calls him bad and sits him down.

The mess that is beginning to get organized is still very much sloppy. Children not having the best hands nor hand-eye coordination skills. So even though I ordered the kids to be cleaning, Yuna has no choice but to reroll and refold some of their attempts.

"Ah, he bothered you to death and it couldn't be helped." I continue reasoning and translating.

How strange. Even though we all speak the same language around here, it feels like working with whole different ones when trying to communicate across with others. Very few people can really understand what you mean to say, versus what comes out. Even my own baby sister sounds to me a little like an alien creature. Though to be fair, all toddlers may be just that.

Humans are such messy creatures that way.

"Yep." Amar nods to my previous statement.

The one about being bothered to death by Lukas. I swear I'm working on that unconscious mumbling thing. I appear to only do it when my guard is down or I'm distracted with too many thoug-->>

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