Prompt: light just before dawn (Doesn't really work, but the scene took me over.)

"Are you an angel?"
I looked up from the activity table I was setting up for the Way's afternoon and evening kids. There was a little girl standing in front of me, maybe four years old. Disheveled dishwater blonde hair, dusky skin with a smattering of freckles. Cornflower blue eyes looked at me questioningly. There was a bit of defiance, too, like maybe she expected me to say yes or something.

"Nope!" I put down the brushes I was distributing and crouched down a little. I didn't get much closer, though. I didn't want to scare her. At barely 5'2", I'm not used to being on the tall side of the conversation. "I'm a Kairos. That's a type of sylph. Do you know what a sylph is?"
"Course I do. It's a faerie."
"Yup. I like to float a lot."
"That's ...nice." Oh, four year old derision. That's a new low.
"Hey, what can I call you?" Gotta call her something, right?
"Dawnie."
"And what's a Dawnie?" is out of my mouth before I can stop it. All of a sudden I wanted to slap myself for that line. So corny!
"Hangry."
Hangry? What kind of word is hangry?
"It's when you're so hungry you're mad about it."

My eyebrows raised right up around my hairline. "You can read my mind?"
Dawnie looks like she's just barely resisting rolling her eyes at my obvious stupidity. "No ma'am. Me and my brother have to 'splain about it enough. Figured you wouldn't know it either."
Point for pintsize.

I wipe my hands on my pants. "Well, Miss Hangry, if you're hungry, we can get you a snack." And figure out where your brother is. And your parents.

I stood up straight again, offered my hand. "We'll just go over there." I point at the snack table, which has chicken salad sandwiches and cucumber sandwiches wrapped up in little sandwich bags, along with whole fruit, just waiting for the kidlets. "There's some juice and some little sandwiches you can eat. Crusts already removed."

Dawnie doesn't take my hand - in fact she looks at it like it's going to sprout fangs or something - but she walks with me over to the table. Before I can tell her to go ahead, she pretty much shoves three of the little finger sandwiches into her mouth, and three more into her pockets. They're the chicken ones, so obviously she's not of the sort that aren't carnivores. Or she was too hungry to care.

"You gonna take those to your brother?" I asked, pushing a straw into a little juice box for her.
"Yep." There's a little head-nod, and she looks down at the floor.
"You know you can bring him here, right?" I tell her gently. "He doesn't have to stay away."
"I know. People told me you're nice. That there's angels here." There goes that I-don't-think-so-look again.
"Well we are! Nice, I mean." I grab a little sandwich and practically inhale it, too. I'd forgotten lunch. And breakfast. Connor's gonna kill me if he finds out I forgot to eat today. Ahem. "There's all sorts here." I continue helpfully. "My in laws are angels, and there's human types, too. I've got a vampire friend that drops in sometimes."

She tilts her head. "You feed vampires here?!"
"Well of course," I say, sounding like it's nothing. "They're people too."
"The sparkly ones?"
"...Nope. Haven't seen any of those." Thank goodness. Sanctuary's a hot spot for weirdos, but none of the Stephanie Meyer type. "But I think they're people too."

Dawnie starts to pay more attention to the food, not minding one bit that she's putting away enough for a small army. That's okay, because my sister's in the kitchen, doing that baker thing. Except she's in there cutting the crusts off of tiny little finger sandwiches.

"I'm gonna be right over here," I point back to the activity table. "After you get some food, why don't you go make something for your brother, and your Mom and Dad?"
She nods dismissively. I watch her for a moment, trying to figure this little girl out. She's a lot like the street kids I've met. Guarded. Hooded. Already completely jaded at such a young age. Almost like a feral kitten that doesn't want to trust the hand that feeds it, or offers it safety and warmth.

So I go back to the table and finish putting out the paints and paper towels and brushes, every once and a while looking around for the little one. It doesn't surprise me when she stuffs more sandwiches and fruit and juice boxes into her pockets, and it doesn't surprise me when she attempts to sneak back out.

I'd planned on following her, just to make sure she was safe when she stops dead in the doorway. There's a man standing there. He's tall, just a little more golden skinned than she is, but he's got the same dirty blonde hair, same bright blue eyes. She stares up at him, mouth open, and I have to smile. The man pretty much radiates light from within, and meeting Jake Knight is always life changing.

"Hey, Dawnie," I call. "You asked about angels?"