‘Not much further now!’
It led its friend by the hand, hurrying along through the field of bright yellow sunflowers under the bright midday sun.
‘Please, Marguerite slow down! And what is it that you want to show me?’ The other doll asked, clutching a sprig of bellflower with its free hand, strawberry-patterned sundress floating freely as it tried to keep up. ‘You know the Witch doesn’t like when we stray too far from the manor!’ It spoke this last sentence in a hush, worried the Witch would hear it from all the way out here. Its friend giggled, amused.
‘You worry too much, Bun-head,’ it teased, still hurrying forward. ‘I’ve been there before, and the Witch didn’t scold me!’ Bunny wasn’t entirely convinced, but still, it followed in the steps of its companion, through the sunflower field. Soon enough, the pair did indeed stop, and Marguerite knelt on the ground, pulling its friend down with it. As it gracefully sat down (for Bunny was a very precious doll, down to the rosy tint of its fingertips and cheeks it had insisted on painting itself upon its porcelain casing,) it was met with a curious sight: There was kneeling another doll, a silent one, whose eyes were closed and whose hands were politely laid into its lap, holding onto a massive bouquet of disparate flowers. More impressive still was the massive sunflower stem which sprung from its fractured torso.
‘Hi, big sister.’ The doll which led the way here piped up, speaking in a quieter voice.
‘Hi, big sister.’ Bunny followed in kind. The doll facing them both remained silent. Bunny expectantly gazed back towards its companion.
‘Big sis is the Witch’s first doll,’ Marguerite explained, before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss on the immobile doll’ forehead. Suddenly, the doll in front of them raised its chin, keeping its eyes closed and its hands still.
‘Good morning…’ It greeted in a yawn, ‘Is it already summer again?’ Marguerite let out an affirmative ‘Mm-hm’.
‘Big sister,’ Bunny hesitantly started, ‘Why are you sat here?’
‘Well, I fell asleep here,’ the oldest doll slowly answered, ‘many summers ago now. I wanted to enjoy a little rest in the sun.’ Several seconds of silence passed, before Bunny understood that the oldest doll had answered its question.
‘Why, then, big sister,’ it asked again, ‘do you remain here?’
‘I had a great rest in the sun,’ it answered again, ‘so much so that I woke up the following summer. When I did, I found myself with a cute little sprout, growing out of a small crack in my chest. It was so pretty, and I was so curious of what pretty flower it would turn into, that I didn’t want to disturb it by moving. So I went back to sleep. It was when I woke up the summer after, that I saw the it had bloomed, and all around it, sprouts were beginning to grow as well. So I stayed to watch them grow, until I felt like I too was a little sunflower sprout amongst all my blooming big sisters.’ Bunny, who was quite fond of stories, stayed very silent and attentive throughout the oldest doll’s account. Only after several seconds had passed again, and both of the younger dolls were certain the oldest was done, did Marguerite speak up once more.
‘Big sister, this is Bunny!’ She excitedly announced. ‘The Witch crafted it a little over half a year ago.’
‘Bunny, Bunny…’ The oldest doll slowly repeated, letting the name roll off its tongue. ‘Bunny…’ It droned on, accidentally almost lulling itself back to sleep.
‘Big sister,’ Bunny interrupted the oldest doll. ‘What is this bouquet you hold?’
‘This… Is a gift,’ the oldest doll answered. ‘I can’t be with my little sisters, so each have left me a flower of their own to hold onto and watch over.’ Quietly, Bunny looked at its own offering, one it had picked with Marguerite this morning, without exactly knowing who it was meant to be offered to at the time. ‘I’m terribly sorry, little sister.’ The oldest doll’s tone grew more sorrowful. ‘I wish I could have met you sooner… And introduced you to the manor, instructed you in whichever way you required, as the elder of the house.’ Bunny shook its head.
‘It’s alright, big sister,’ it answered, carefully placing the bellflower amongst the rest of the bouquet. ‘It makes me happy to know my big sister is so curious and sweet, and likes pretty thing so much!’
Seeing both dolls get along, Marguerite happily giggled, leaning towards Bunny and pointing out a flower in the bouquet. ‘Look, Bun-head, here’s mine!’ Bunny looked and saw a small daisy nestled in there, cocking its head to the side at the curious coincidence.
‘Little Marguerite was a much shyer doll at the time,’ the oldest doll began to recount, guessing Bunny’s curiosity. ‘It had not dared even decide upon a name. When we met, it asked me if I would like to name it, as its big sister.’
‘So you named it after the flower it brought?’ Bunny asked, earning an amused giggle from Marguerite.
‘And my name is the cutest in the mansion, perfect for the cutest of the dolls! Big sister really is clever!’ It boasted, as it often did. Bunny, however, found itself curious again.
‘Big sister,’ it asked, ‘how long ago were you gifted the first flower?’ At this, the oldest doll took a few moments to reminisce offering its answer.
‘I believe it was gifted to me fourteen summers ago.’ Bunny cocked its head once more, and this time, Marguerite was the one to answer.
‘Big sister really is amazing, you know,’ it assured its younger sister. ‘For fourteen summers that it’s been resting here, not a flower has ever wilted or withered. Even in the heart of winter, it’s always warmer near big sister’s flowers!’ The oldest doll shyly smiled at the praise, before letting out a small yawn.
‘Please, forgive me, but on such a nice summer day, I always want to do nothing but rest in the sun. Of course, you are always welcome to share a nap with me, little sister.’ It spoke, and its head hung low once more, as it returned to its slumber. As Marguerite cosied up to it, Bunny decided it was indeed a beautiful summer day to take a nap, and moved to lean into its big sister as well, falling asleep to the faint perfume of sunflower clinging to its torn dress.