moir's pullin a narcissus
the woods were riparian, meaning that the river fed it directly, flowing past the red-stained wood and providing the forest's backing soundtrack.
they hadn't spent a lot of time on the river's edge. in winter the river was cold, dead. but now it had appeal. all the life of the forest seemed to burst forth from this location: the plants, the bugs, the birds. there were fish, if moir looked closely.
for now, they sat on an overhang, where the ground had been eroded by past floods and trees had laid their roots, now exposed to the air. their front legs dangled from the small cliff, just a few feet over the river itself. they could see their reflection in the flowing water below, slightly distorted by the currents. they smiled at themself before they began singing.
they hadn't spent a lot of time on the river's edge. in winter the river was cold, dead. but now it had appeal. all the life of the forest seemed to burst forth from this location: the plants, the bugs, the birds. there were fish, if moir looked closely.
for now, they sat on an overhang, where the ground had been eroded by past floods and trees had laid their roots, now exposed to the air. their front legs dangled from the small cliff, just a few feet over the river itself. they could see their reflection in the flowing water below, slightly distorted by the currents. they smiled at themself before they began singing.
“♪there was a boy
a very strange, enchanted boy
they say he wandered very far
very far, over land and sea
a little shy and sad of eye
but very wise was he... ♪”
a very strange, enchanted boy
they say he wandered very far
very far, over land and sea
a little shy and sad of eye
but very wise was he... ♪”
it was a song that had been sung about them — for them — before, a slow ballad that needed little accompaniment. moir enjoyed the association with it, both in its melody and its lyrics. in the quiet spring morning light, everything felt right and aligned.
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