Varten raised his head from a nap and blinked bleary eyes at the world. It was a balmy midafternoon and the sound of the sea was far away and forgotten by the little boy. His mother was, as always, nearby. All was right in the silver-charcoal colt's world. He huffed out a low sigh and turned his head to look upon the meadows that sprawled away from their sunny little corner of the earth. He had experienced much already in his short time alive, and most of it had become a hazy blur of one big Yesterday.
All around them, flowers had sprung up seemingly overnight to carpet the landscape with vivid purples and blues. Varten liked to run through those and kick up their scent. He hoisted himself upright, anticipating another aromatic romp, and staggered in the sudden gust of wind that blew by. A fat bee caromed past his face. Its buzzing drew his head and, without a second thought, the colt followed it into the fields.
Keeping up with the bumbling critter proved challenging. It dipped and dived and seemed to slip between the air, veering abruptly right or left so that Varten had to scramble to correct his course and keep it in sight. All at once the bee zagged right and then dropped into a soft pink bloom, one among many. With a huff, the colt jogged up to the patch of flowers and stood, splay-legged, hunting intently for the missing insect. |