There were two things one immediately noticed when clapping eyes on Will Byers. The first was that, despite being both quite short and delicate, he was usually padded out in cumbersome layers of clothing whenever he ventured outside. Such excess never seemed to bother or overheat him. In fact he was nearly religious about being warm, both for his psychological and physical health. He did not go into the snow anymore unless absolutely necessary and only when swaddled into a brightly-colored snowman silhouette.
The other was that Will was accompanied on most days by some sort of creative product--- be it a crumpled piece of construction paper, lined notebook, or cleanly-bound sketchbook. Though he did venture abroad without one on occasion he usually left his room with an artistic purpose. It was uncommon for him to go forth for the sake of socializing. People-watching (and sketching) was his new hobby to hone his skill. He wanted his fantastical drawings to be as beautiful as the fine detail in his mind’s eye and he could never learn to draw people without studying them. And who knew what fascinating sight might be present in his meeting with Arcturus? There could be some detail he absolutely had to commit to paper lest it be forgotten.
Will had been caught throughout the trip to Everdale between minding the stops and thinking with hesitant anticipation of the meeting about to take place. Instead of passenger studies he kept unconsciously doodling what he imagined Merlin to look like and school children poised in various stages of brewing a potion. His ample imagination had been on fire since he had learned wizards existed. How fortuitous it was that his introduction had come from someone as young and creative as himself.
Making friends did not come easily to one bullied all his life. Trust had never been his strong suit to begin with and after the experiences of the past year and a half it took considerable willpower to peer over the battlements of his reserve and talk to people. Will seemed friendly enough by virtue of his compassionate nature but he was very rarely comfortable with others. The ‘letters’ he had been exchanging with a peer were primarily fueled by unquenchable thirst for knowledge; he was still shy and nervous behind every one and did not flatter himself that they would become more than mutually curious acquaintances.
Arcturus seemed kind enough, or at the least very tolerant of endless questions. Will liked him despite unavoidable anxiety. The wizard could very well have been frustrated by Will’s ignorance and had every reason to dislike 'muggles'. Instead the other boy had patiently explained his fascinating world and even asked some questions in return. And then extended an invitation to spend time together and in the future see creatures Will had only longingly dreamt of. How could he not be charmed?
As had been told to him the Kingsby Tavern was not difficult to locate. A brisk walk from the train depot was involved but Will didn't mind. He had missed the exercise when his mother began to insist on driving him everywhere. Certainly no one was doing any driving here. Everdale was a rich and beautiful place that spoke to his lifelong preoccupation with the fantasy genre. Being there was like stepping into a fairy story and he enjoyed peering about at its many features on the way.
Accompanied by a gust of cold air Will shuffled inside the pleasantly warm tavern. Though he did cast a leery glance at the fire his attention was engaged almost immediately by the enchantingly aged decor. The place looked one out of his favorite book! He almost expected to see a few Hobbits drinking together with their hairy feet propped up on one of the tables. Will’s naturally large eyes were huge in his face as he soaked in every groove and shadow. It was impossible not to feel out of place in his bright synthetic coat and denim jeans. He had never seen the like of this place and it sent little eddies of happiness swirling in his belly. Some effort had to be exerted to tear his gaze away from the flickering candles and scan the tables in search of a face as young as his own. He almost expected Arcturus to be lit by some inner glow of sorcery that would give him away.