- Feb 23, 2024
- 49
- 8
- 8
There are not many things Bilberrykit enjoys about Greenleaf. Too hot, he thinks, only after dusk settles over camp. Birdsong pierces the otherwise quiet world at a near constant rate and, in the privacy of Bilberrykit’s mind he amends: too loud.
There are not many things Bilberrykit likes about Greenleaf but, as the sky steadily darkens, he finds himself leaning in anticipation for one of the things he does. Soft, yellow-green lights populate the surrounding gorse wall and taller tufts of grass. Bilberrykit understands them to be small, red-headed beetles. Such beetles hadn’t existed in Newleaf—Bilberrykit would have noticed them with as much time as he spent poking around the gorse.
“How long do they last?” His voice is hushed and holds his smile as he tips his head Brackenpaw’s way—because he is near, because he expects Brackenpaw to know, “The glow bugs weren’t here before.”
There are not many things Bilberrykit likes about Greenleaf but, as the sky steadily darkens, he finds himself leaning in anticipation for one of the things he does. Soft, yellow-green lights populate the surrounding gorse wall and taller tufts of grass. Bilberrykit understands them to be small, red-headed beetles. Such beetles hadn’t existed in Newleaf—Bilberrykit would have noticed them with as much time as he spent poking around the gorse.
“How long do they last?” His voice is hushed and holds his smile as he tips his head Brackenpaw’s way—because he is near, because he expects Brackenpaw to know, “The glow bugs weren’t here before.”
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