Chapter Text
There's a new face in the hollow.
Philza tries not to be annoyed that no one bothered to tell him a new faerie had joined the ranks. It's not like he coordinates the functioning of every faerie or anything.
Still, it's not the new face he's annoyed with, so he greets them with as much kindness as his shriveled heart allows.
"Hello," Philza greets with a warm smile, letting the heated irritation fade into the fire of the hearth he'd taken his vow to be, a safety and center-flame for the youngest of his hollow's ranks to safely settle by.
The new faerie blinks at him, slowly like a cat.
After a moment too long of silence, Philza tries again. "Hello?"
He steps forward, already a bit concerned, and the new faerie twitches unnervingly. Their antlers--an unusual characteristic for an unusual faerie--graze a low-hanging branch and a wince pulls at their face.
"Careful," Philza says, settling a steadying hand on their knobby shoulder. Their dandelion gown seems to hang off of them, draping like an ill-fitting cloak.
The new faerie looks at Philza's hand, brushing their fingers softly against the back of it, and then meets the man's gaze. They look confused, in a way a newly-born faerie should never be.
"Are you alright?" Philza asks. He has half a mind to just pick the faerie up and fly them right to Ponk. Still, that might be a little startling for the faerie's first day in the hollow.
The faerie, again, does not respond.
When they run their hands along the golden trim running down Philza's sleeve, almost entranced, Philza is struck by the sudden thought that their silence might not be by choice.
He's reminded of the whisperings, talk of faeries who grew too late, babies who didn't laugh until years into their lives. There's a chance, as impossible as Philza had dismissed it all those years ago, that this faerie is one of those rumored few. (Or, if one particularly vocal enthusiast is to be believed, one of the rumored many.)
"Can you understand me?" Philza asks and the faerie looks at him, but they make no indication that he's been understood.
Before he can look into it more, a shout rings out through the otherwise empty area of the hollow.
"Callahan!" someone shouts, followed quickly by two other voices all calling the same name.
The faerie--Callahan--perks up, their name already tied to their soul.
"Here," Philza calls, "they're with me."
Dream, George, and Sapnap--the trio of chaos themselves--barrel into the corner of the hollow.
"Oh, thank Prime," Sapnap breathes, like Callahan was half a step from the edge of a higher tree opening. With their dust-shriveled wings, Philza understands the fear.
"I swear, they just disappeared. One minute we were about to find out their talent and the next--" Dream waves his hands. "Poof. Just gone."
Philza nods, his hand still tethered to Callahan's shoulder. Callahan bunches the fabric of Philza's sleeve under their hands, watching the trio of newcomers nervously.
"Where did you even go?" Sapnap asks, exasperated but already undeniably fond.
Callahan, predictably, says nothing.
"Dude?" Sapnap asks, tilting his head like the puppies he still swears he can tame.
Callahan tilts their head in turn, mimicking Sapnap's expression like a Mockingbird of motion.
George looks at Phil, his eyes narrowed.
"What's going on?" he demands, already sure that something is amiss.
"I--" Philza considers the trio. "I'm not certain."
Sapnap, with worried eyes and twitching fingers, asks, "But you have an idea?"
"Oddly enough," Philza agrees, "I do."
---
Callahan--stranger now that Dream can see every line of the antlers spiraling out from their hair from up close--turns their attention from Philza to Dream, reaching for the smooth porcelain of his mask.
Dream's head tilts away instinctively, but he makes no move to pull away from Callahan's hands.
He isn't sure what's going on with the new faerie, but he's certain they don't mean any harm.
Callahan traces the smile of Dream's mask before drifting to the edge. They're visibly confused by the junction of porcelain and skin, their nose crinkling as their eyebrows pinch together. Their curious fingers slip just underneath the mask and Dream grabs their wrist gently.
"Don't," Dream says, but Callahan is right back to it when Dream lets their wrist go.
Dream grabs their hand, interlocking their fingers with his while he pays half a mind to his friend's conversation with Philza.
"--should we do?" Sapnap asks, sounding uncharacteristically worried.
He'd been elated with the new faerie's arrival, grateful to finally see someone emerge after being brought to the hollow by one of Bad's drifting winds a few years ago.
Their hollow doesn't see many additions, a small hollow far from the paths of the central winds.
"I'll ask the other Hollow Minders," Philza says, "see if they have any advice. Beyond that, they should be fine. We'll just have to be careful, and we'll have to be kind."
"Of course," George says like he's offended Philza implied otherwise, which is fair. They're a small hollow and, while that comes with a fair share of drama, they're nothing if not a community.
Callahan tugs on Dream's hand and Dream meets the faerie's gaze. Callahan detangles their fingers and prods at Dream's mask again, this time staying away from the edges.
Whatever happened to them, whatever kept their wings from coming out in the usual shape and gave them a set of antlers, isn't stopping them from drawing their own conclusions.
And, sure. Maybe Callahan isn't learning as instinctively as newly emerged faeries usually do, but Dream can already tell without a doubt that they're going to fit into the Dream Team like they've always been there.
Philza clearly isn't worried, even with Callahan's unusualness, so Dream figures they'll all just have to get used to it.
---
The signing is Sam's idea.
Callahan is quick to pick up on the language they weren't born knowing like they should have, picking up words like "no" and "stop" and "wait" in just that first day. It's a confusing day, being born, but they meet Philza and then their friends before the panic has time to set in.
By the end of the month, Callahan is able to understand most directions and answer most yes or no questions. George calls them a marvel and, when Sapnap explains what it means, Callahan spends the rest of their day with the word running through their head on a loop.
Still, nodding and shaking their head only gets them so far and it quickly becomes beyond frustrating. Whenever they need something, it always takes at least a dozen questions before they finally get what they need, if they ever do get their point across.
Callahan starts to gesture, pointing at things and pretending to do things.
Then, when Sam catches them trying and failing to ask Sapnap to help them find Philza, the man offers the best solution Callahan's ever heard.
Callahan gets to talk to their friends with their hands.
There's already a kind of sign for faeries, Sam says, because sometimes faeries get injured and lose their hearing. Sam learned it when he tinkered in a different hollow and he teaches Callahan at least a dozen words that first day alone.
The first time Callahan's friends sign at them, they almost burst into tears.
Talking, or signing in their case, and being understood is a new experience.
When they call Dream a bitch and make fun of Sapnap for being overly dopey about Karl and Quackity, they know it isn't one they'd ever give up.