Wild Thing by L. J. Kendall

meanie and stop her opening it straight away, she wouldn't talk to him at all.
    It was silent then, apart from the clink of her spoon and the quiet crunching as she chewed her muesli.  While she ate, she looked up at him from time to time through her fringe.  He had a stupid expression like he was laughing at her but thinking she couldn't tell.  Annoyed, she concentrated on the bowl in front of her.
    At last she finished her cereal.
    'You may open it now, little one.'
    Huh.  He couldn't tell her what to do.  Instead, she poured herself another helping.
    'Another bowl of muesli, Sara?'
    'I'm hungry.'
    'It seems you have a good appetite.'
    'That's cause I do stuff.'
    Silence again, then.  She didn't speak, and he didn't, either.  She wouldn't even look at the gift.  Finally, though, she finished the second bowl.
    Cross with him, she nevertheless pulled the parcel toward herself and carefully started to open it, mentally daring him to try to go back on his promise.  She looked up, and he had this really annoying look on his face, like “Oh, yes, now you have my permission” and stuff, but suddenly, a squeal somehow escaped despite herself when she saw what it was.  She tore into the paper.
    Ohhh.  ' A bow and arrow!'
    She ripped the last piece of paper off and pulled it all out – bow, arrows, even a quiver.  And a large, folded-up piece of paper.  There was a string, too, with loops already made at each end.  She slipped one end on and tried looping the other over the notch at the other end of the bow, but it sprang straight out of her hands, jabbing her between the eyes.
    'Ow!'
    She tried again, and this time the bow twisted and stabbed into her shoulder!  Biting down on a cry, she tried again.
    'Would you like me to do that for you, little one?  I don't think you're strong enough, yet.'
    'I am too!'  Does he think I'm a baby? She didn't need his help!  She'd do it by herself even if it took days.
    In the end, it took five minutes plus getting cross with it for the last bit.
    She then turned her attention to the arrows.
    At the end where the plastic feathers fitted, each arrow had a slot for the bowstring.  That made sense.  But a flexible black cup was attached to the other end where the point should be.  She poked her tongue thoughtfully into her cheek, trying to puzzle it out.  Tried to twist the rubber cap off, only to find she couldn't.
    Finally, she flung herself back in her chair and stared crossly at her uncle, waving the dumb arrow at him.  'What are these bits for?'
    'They make the arrows stick when they hit a smooth surface,' he explained, picking one up and stamping it down on the table where it stood, quivering.  He bent it over and let it spring back upright.  'You see.'
    She just stared at him.  Was he serious?  'What good is that?  Animals don't have smooth bits.'
    He looked at her oddly, and for a moment she thought he might be doing some more magic – but nothing happened.  Then he leaned forward, his voice lowering.  'Nor does the thing that you can use these arrows on.'
    Ohhh.
    She leaned forward.

Chapter 5 
    'Still, the arrows will work,' he added.
    He had been observing her carefully, a lightly-cast mindmeld feathering against her thoughts, pleased at her responses so far.  Now to begin preparing her.  Hopefully, it would suffice to set her own imagination to work for his purposes, assisting him.
    'Work on what?  What thing?  How?'
    He looked around, as if checking for observers.  'I was waiting before I told you this.  Before I warned you.'  He leaned toward her and lowered his voice further.  She scooted closer still in her chair.  'In here, we are safe: but outside, something dangerous hunts in the grounds.'
    Her eyes grew round.  'What is it?'
    'No one knows.  No one has seen it.  Some say it is invisible, and moves in the wind.'
    'Wow.  What does it do?'
    His voice sank.  'It sinks claws inside the mind, and changes people.  Sends them mad.'
    'Oh!