THIS BLOG IS ON SEMI HIATUS
“Race you to the tree, ‘Nora!” The eldest Cousland didn’t wait for her answer, and dashed away laughing.
“Fergus! I told you not to call me like this! A lady doesn’t answer to pet names!” Anora pouted and crossed her arms, clearly displeased at her friend’s behavior. “And you don’t even play fair!”
Fergus had reached the finish line by then, and turned to face her, a boyish grin on his face. He shouted back, “Come on, ‘Nora, you didn’t even try!”
“I’m warning you Fergus, if you don’t stop calling me by that name right now, I swear I will call you Fergie, like your cousin Habren!” Anora smirked at his startled expression, and added mischievously, “And I know how much you love it.”
Fergus scowled, and walked back to meet her on the bench she had sat herself on. “You’re no fun. So if you’re such a lady, whatever do you want to do? I’m getting bored already”, he grumbled, putting his elbows on his thighs, face resting in his palms.
Anora cocked an eyebrow at him, and whispered, “All we need is a pair of scissors”.
Intrigued despite himself, Fergus shot back, dumbfounded, “Scissors?! Whatever for?”
She smiled mysteriously, “You’ll see.”
When Cailan woke up from his nap later this afternoon, the golden locks he’d been so proud of had been inexplicably cut and were nowhere to be found.