two brothers. it's just called two brothers. -milo-

Oren was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, filling out his planner notebook. It was the first week of classes, and now was a good time to start getting organized because it was still too early for teachers to start assigning things or having tests or anything. It was also a good time because Milo wasn't in the dorm room at the moment, which gave Oren a rare moment of peace and quiet to concentrate.

After finishing up his schedule and to-do list, he glanced at the clock briefly and wondered where his twin even was. Oren sighed, hoping he hadn't gotten lost on campus or anything. It was the start of their fifth year, and Milo still acted like he had never been to Redfern before in his life.

Oren was just about to give in and go looking for him, when he heard the lock click and the door open behind him. He turned around and sure enough there was his brother, chicken daemon in tow.

"Where were you?" Oren asked. "Class ended two hours ago."

"Listen to this," Milo said, completely ignoring everything his brother had just said to him. "Today, as I was walking away from class, I was spoken to by a butterfly." He opened his eyes wide at Oren. "I mean, it didn't, like, talk to me. But it got its message across loud and clear."

Teaspoon clucked (like a chicken, not in annoyance).

Oren looked at Milo impassively. He was slightly annoyed that Milo had completely ignored his question, but chose to drop it for the time being. "Oh yeah? What was its message?" he asked dryly, humoring his brother. Most of the time, it was better not to question Milo, and instead just roll with his weirdness. He knew Milo would be too oblivious to notice his lack of genuine interest.

Pepper hopped off his desk, transforming from a mouse to a cat as she did so, and went over to hang out with Teaspoon the perpetual chicken.

"Winter is coming." Milo grabbed his book bag off his back and started unzipping it. He pulled out handfuls of winter hats, gloves, and scarves and tossed them onto the floor as he pulled out more. "It's coming early, Oren. And we just need to be ready."

Teaspoon turned to Pepper and clucked again.

Oren took a long, deep breath. Though most of the time it was best not to question Milo, as his weird ideas would usually run their course and go away after about a week, sometimes he just couldn't help but try to talk some sense into his twin, even though he knew it'd be in vain.

"Okay Milo," he said slowly, hoping he might get through to him. "First of all, it's 80 degrees outside. Second of all, winter comes at the same time every year, on a specific date, in December. Third of all, even if winter did come early, you wouldn't need that many hats and gloves." He paused. "Where the hell did you even get all that?"

Milo now had a small pile of winter apparel laying on their formally neat and clean dorm room floor, which Oren knew he was going to have to clean up. It wasn't that Milo was messy on purpose, he was just too scatterbrained to ever clean up after himself, so Oren did all the cleaning instead.

"Places," Milo shrugged, answering Oren's last question but ignoring everything that came before it. "But really, I wanted to get some for you and for Jude and for Davi$ and for Wren and for Julian and then I wanted extras because I always lose mine and so then I thought maybe everyone would need extras and now we will all be prepared." He took a deep breath and then sighed before flinging himself on his bed.

"I feel much better now."

Oren sighed as well, before getting up and starting to pick up the pile of winter accessories Milo had left on the floor. He supposed his brother's newest obsession was harmless enough, and if it made him "feel better", then Oren wasn't going to fight it. Though he did still wonder where Milo had gotten it all. He wasn't the type of kid to steal, thank gods, but where would he have gotten enough money to buy all this? A mystery for the ages.

"That was thoughtful of you," he said, since Milo apparently wanted to share his bounty with him and their cousins. "How 'bout I put these in the closet for now, until we all need them?" Four months from now...

"That sounds like a good idea," Milo agreed, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He wondered how that butterfly knew winter was coming, anyway. Did Redfern have a bunch of insects that could see the future? How had he made it through four years of this place with no idea?

Bugs, now that he thought about it, were so mysterious. They had these whole little lives that they lived, they had homes and families and plans. They'd crawl through the dirt, or fly through the sky, some of them even could swim! Some climbed trees, some ate trees, some ate dead things. Some of them could tell the future, he had learned today. Which meant bugs could predict things, could read the weather. They could communicate with other bugs, they could communicate with clio. They had babies. Bugs made houses. They lived in nests or in hives or in holes or inside of dead things. They were pretty or gross. Some bugs had more than one heart. Sometimes you could cut up a bug and it would die, but sometimes you could cut up a bug and both pieces would live. Some bugs rolled into balls! Some bugs started out as one thing and then became something else! Some bugs drank blood. Some bugs didn't. Sometimes bugs were scary. They scared big kids and little kids and babies and grown ups. Some bugs were fun to look at or play with, and everyone liked them. Some brought good luck. Some made webs. Some used their talents to wrap up the dead bodies of other tiny little bugs. Some had no talents at all. But others! They made honey and silk and probably other things. Some bugs had a lot of legs, others had none! Colorful bugs, boring bugs. Bugs with wings and swimmies and slimy skin and dry skin and hard shells and soft bodies and

Milo rolled to his side so he was looking at Oren who I'm assuming had returned to his desk by this point. "Hey, Oren, how important is it to wear matching socks?"

Oren finished putting away Milo's winter things that he knew Milo would forget about in the next few days if he hadn't already. He turned around and saw Milo laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, apparently deep in thought. What the hell went through that kid's head?

"Hey, Oren, how important is it to wear matching socks?"

"Well, it looks sloppy if you don't," Oren replied. Milo often wore strange, mismatching outfits. It was one of the many ways the two of them could be told apart.

"Don't you think it makes more sense to wear different ones, though?" he asked, thinking about how he had worn different socks for as long as he could remember. "You can wear as many socks as you want, every day if you want to."

Teaspoon walked over to the bed and clucked twice. Milo reached down and picked her up, and then she snuggled down against him.

"You can wear whatever you want to, Milo," Oren said, picking up Pepper off the floor and going to sit on his own bed. "I, however, am going to continue to wear matching socks.

"So how do you like your classes so far?" he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. Oren and Milo weren't in all the same classes this year, and Oren always worried about Milo when he was off on his own. Though Milo didn't realize it, some of the other kids made fun of him unless Oren was there to tell them off.

Milo sorta half-shrugged from his lying position. "They're okay. I have Mr. Grumpy Gills for my Ughdarras class again." Each semester as an unsettled student you had to take an eilemaiden class. Milo had taken the Ughdarras one three times now, not because he was particularly interested in Ughdarras, but because the sea frightened him and he wanted to be ready in case a boat he was on ever sank.

Mr. Grumpy Gills was the undercover moniker of one of the Ughdarras instructors. He was always grumpy, and Milo suspected he had gills hidden under his large, fluffy sideburns. The man was a monster.

Oren had tried in the past to explain to Milo that he didn't need to take Ughdarras class every semester, and that taking Ughdarras class wouldn't help him if a boat ever sank. But that had just resulted in Milo freaking out about the ocean, so he gave up. "Please tell me you don't call him that to his face," Oren said, though he did smile a little. It was actually a pretty funny nickname for Mr. Hay and his mutton chops.

Well, if a grumpy teacher was Milo's biggest worry, then he must be doing okay so far. Oren could only hope that the rest of the year would go as smoothly.