My pounce had landed. On top of him I lay, he even giggled and smiled on this day. I saved him from the bite, the might of the ants combined. He more careful, more wary and yet, his face starts to turn...scary. At first, he seemed to take my pounce with joy. Now he looks at me as if I were his chew toy. I am surprised and taken aback by this sudden change. His eyes closed suddenly, his hackles raised. I find it odd how he acts, so strange. It seems almost unnatural, this change. I am, however, a young girl, a puppy. My knowledge is limited, and I seek to learn. My tan eyes fall upon him so stern. A snarl begins to form on his lips, and his leg begin to kick at my hips. My dark form, so small, so warm, pushes away from the angered pup of today. I land in the grass, and never keep my back turned. To not keep a threat in view is something I have learned.

I remain low and close to the earth. I blend with the long green of grass, yet I stick out while he does harass. I pin my ears upon my skull. I want to make his snarl null. I know, however, that I must be strong. I must hold my ground for however long, for I seek to make him my friend, and I will succeed until the very end. As much as I, the Butterfly, is so very different from the RAINBOW of my mother, I still hold a determination like no other. I may not be hyper, or nearly as quick as she, but I am the calm side she could never be. As he stands above me with a face so full of rage, his voice fills the air and he sounds beyond his age. I show him my own twin fangs, my pearly whites ready for the coming fights. I look fierce, mysterious, for how my silver mask lines my face, it does not show my lovely grace. When I snarl it is something the be feared, you can see it in my eyes, yet a kindness still implies, within them, for I wish not to harm. It is his voice that shows that he is conflicted, almost as if part of himself if restricted. He said he would crush the Butterfly that is eye, the denies the statement so fast, so quickly. Could it be that he is sickly? I hide my fangs back within my lips, my small form so black, so bold, begins to stand from my position of old.

My features change as swiftly as his does. Around us, I hear small creatures buzz, as my ears perk forward again like his. I tilt my head upon my neck, watching him carefully as he keeps himself in check. He changed so fast in these short moments together. Giggles, to snarls, to nervous and possibly, disappointed. He then speaks, he says he is sorry. There is a He that is Him, and seems to be within. Do we not not all have an I that we deny? A voice in our heard that arrives while we are in bed? I am not sure, what this boy is feeling, but I stay, find out, and we will still play. He smiles once more and I copy, for I was not sore, about how he just snarled and how he just threatened. Curiosity was a drug, so clean and so fine. it is the favorite drug of mine. I see now, the kindness in his intention. My tail wags slightly, carefully I pay attention. He seems upset, his eyes have become wet. I wish not to see him cry, if I left tears might just fall from his eye. You may call me stupid or maybe brave, I won't let this strangeness chase me away. I take a step in the sand to get closer, closer to the boy, sad, within himself. I pause for a moment, eyes wide and blinking. I do not know what I was thinking. I took another step with my muzzle reached through the air, and I lick his cheek without a care. Of his movements, I am still wary, a moment ago he was indeed scary. I have learned from my mother that kindness is key. I then speak, so soft, so heavenly.

"Who is the He who wishes to hurt me? Is he a voice inside, as your actions implied?"

I was not sure, what it is was with him. Maybe i was wrong, but that wasn't a sin. I sought only to learn about this puppy, Eli. He much different than my brother, Leoni. i stood close, though ready to jump. I am a girl of muscle, ready to fly. Yet a friendship I was not willing to deny. I will give him another chance to explain, I might find out he is not so sane. Yet, I, the Butterfly, am like no other. I am just as determined as my mother. The boy speaks of Angels, a thing I am not knowing. I heard of no such things where I am growing. Him not being an Angel thing, mattered not to me, the thought is history.

"What Angels are, I do not know. I think it matters not, though. Are you not the you of yourself? Elijah, you say, so do not dismay. Be Elijah is all, be proud, stand tall."

My words are mean to comfort my peer, so he does not reach a state of tears. Maybe it will make him feel better, maybe I will confuse the one called Eli, yet maybe it will make him less shy. I stand before him, my form dark and dim. My ears search the air for his words, and while I wait I will listen to the birds.