The leaves whispering above tell secrets. They always have, though nobody listens. Some who refuse to climb in to the trees to listen fell them in an attempt at reaching the most brilliant secrets from the highest branches. But, to fell a tree means to lose the secrets it has to tell. Or maybe, they hate the gossip of the trees.
Some creatures just don't want their secrets whispered among the canopy.
My heart tells me to speak aloud in a quiet forest, tell it my secrets and lighten my heart. A light heart means my ability to live... to be lively and whistle brilliant tunes, to leap and frolic and all that. It's my job, anyway. I help others to be lighthearted. Without a heart-soother, a whole bevy of us could fall in to depression. It's not very appropriate for my kind NOT to be lighthearted and jovial.
~~
The light shown through the tree tops in dapples on the leaf-carpeted earth. The trees whispered in the morning light, secrets of old times and secrets of new. They seemed to have no sense of time as it passed, since their lives were really so short. The fauna on the ground could not be bothered to listen as they scurried about their daily tasks.
The water was cool and mirror-smooth. It was a brilliant sight to behold, still being brushed by the dewy fog that couldn't find anywhere to settle. The mist had not seemed to have gotten bored yet, for it didn't leave in search of the mountains and the cousins it had there, clouds. The fog seemed to welcome and envelop the creatures that entered it, those who didn't really want to be seen. As the ethereal beings took their turns to drink, another appeared. The forest seemed reluctant to let it pass the edge and in to the basin, but gave way with goodbye-whispers from the leaves of a bush. The creature hobbled forward, pulling free its ankle from the grasp of a vine. Silently, the being moved through the mist and down to the icy water. It dipped a skin to fill with fresh liquid, hefting the little bottle up to take a drink.
"SPARROWKIN!"
The beast was startled, sputtering on the water. "Mh- ha -ahm.... y-yes?"
"You know better than to drink from the skin. Bring your horn next time. All that water's good for now is watering the fruit trees. Dump it and come back for more. I should put you on... ooh! Sparrowkin you really bother me sometimes, you know that?"
"Yeah... I know. You tell me day in and day out." Replied the one with the skin before darting back in to the forest. The darkness enveloped her again as she rushed to the orchard. The heavy skin made a facetious noise on her back as it bounced. The ground barely felt the faun's passing, hooves lightly skipping like a stone over the pool's surface. Deer-like ears were pinned to keep the brush from nipping them as she darted through the trees. As quickly as the creature ran forward, she halted.
Spread before Sparrowkin was a beautiful sight. Many workers picked and pruned the leaves of many fragrant trees. They were not lined in rows, but grew as they had for centuries. Yes, the trees were at least 500 years old apiece. They were of a giant stature, and many criss-crossing bridges connected them so that the gardeners, known as Keepers, could care for them in every way, shape, and form. Now, many fauns moved through the trees and over the bridges, pruning and misting the leaves and branches. One sped by her, swiping the water skin to fill buckets and then throwing the empty leather at her. “SHOULD TEACH YOU NOT TO DRINK FROM IT AGAIN, EH GREEDY SPARROW?” The black faun called, laughing. She replied with a sour expression, her tongue poking past her lips.
“If I can’t say anything nice, I won’t speak, Felius.”
“Aww, Kinny… no returning insults? You are as sharp of tongue as you are graceful, my doe.” He bantered, cavorting around her as she grumbled, caressing the small of the faun’s back and then moving to her cheek. Sparrowkin spit in his face.
“I am not your doe. Back off.”
He grunted angrily, wiping the spittle from his face before sneering. “Our Heart-soother is a heavy-heart today.” With a malicious laugh, the male returned to his work.
Sparrowkin dashed in to the forest again.
(Just a writing... doesn't mean much.)
I know this is a few days
I dunno if I will write
<3 Thank you