Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda

Deciding to explore the lands closer to home, Gil found himself in an area that reminded him of the Whistling Willows. Who knew willows enjoyed the soil of Boreas so much? Making his way through the weeping boughs and careful to avoid the winding streams that opened the earth through the grove, he enjoyed the quiet of the land. Birds fluttered from tree to tree. The hum of bees is a nice touch to the ambiance. Gil even allowed a soft hum to resonate in his throat as he wandered. No real reason or destination, he was happy to continue until the sound of a rock splashing into some water nearby caught his attention.

There a younger boy lay curled up on the grass. The boy looked rather sour and anyone else would've steered clear of the glum boy. Not Gil though. No, no. Call him an idiot or whatever you wanted, but he was curious. Always curious. Why was the boy so unhappy in such a beautiful place? Approaching without hiding the sound of his steps, he looked at the boy with a playful smirk. "Someone piss in your bed or what?" He calls out.