Bzzt. The sound is soft and distant, but just enough to reach the young boy’s ears. He’s not sleeping like he should; he’s far too alert right now. Mamma always says sleep is important, and while he accepts this and knows this, it’s a wholly different thing to actually do it.
Bzzt bzzt. There’s that bug again. This time, Oren stretches his brown ears and much lighter roaned neck, trying to find the little creature. Bzzzzt. There! He rises from his place near Rosey (she always curls up super tight in her sleep, so he doubts that she notices) to investigate.
The cicada beetle is reddish brown, hiding against the sequoia. When the young colt rises though, it flicks away. Bzzzzt. It almost sounds angry! Oren deflates, barely keeping himself from snorting - ah! but There it is! - and trying not to spook it, he sneaks after the bug.
The bugs leads to a butterfly, the butterfly to a squirrel, the squirrel to a hare and the hare to a bird, and the bird to a stallion. Oh, but he has feathers too! Just like the bird!
”Hello!” he calls out enthusiastically (Oren knows nothing of fate and death, knows nothing about the fires that killed this man’s parents - a man he might have called brother if he ever learned about their shared relations with their siblings). The bay roan flashes a happy grin towards the horse in the distance. His ears are perked and for this briefest moment, he has nothing to offer but his own childlike happiness. ”What are you doing? I’m Oren! Do you know the name of that bird? How old are you? My brothers are super old, you know? Mama says the trees are older though. Can you imagine?!” Just how cool is the world, is life! Just how awesome is it to experience it all!
@[elio] uhm, I’m sorry :/
Bzzt bzzt. There’s that bug again. This time, Oren stretches his brown ears and much lighter roaned neck, trying to find the little creature. Bzzzzt. There! He rises from his place near Rosey (she always curls up super tight in her sleep, so he doubts that she notices) to investigate.
The cicada beetle is reddish brown, hiding against the sequoia. When the young colt rises though, it flicks away. Bzzzzt. It almost sounds angry! Oren deflates, barely keeping himself from snorting - ah! but There it is! - and trying not to spook it, he sneaks after the bug.
The bugs leads to a butterfly, the butterfly to a squirrel, the squirrel to a hare and the hare to a bird, and the bird to a stallion. Oh, but he has feathers too! Just like the bird!
”Hello!” he calls out enthusiastically (Oren knows nothing of fate and death, knows nothing about the fires that killed this man’s parents - a man he might have called brother if he ever learned about their shared relations with their siblings). The bay roan flashes a happy grin towards the horse in the distance. His ears are perked and for this briefest moment, he has nothing to offer but his own childlike happiness. ”What are you doing? I’m Oren! Do you know the name of that bird? How old are you? My brothers are super old, you know? Mama says the trees are older though. Can you imagine?!” Just how cool is the world, is life! Just how awesome is it to experience it all!
@[elio] uhm, I’m sorry :/