some flowers grow where the green grass grows

Morgawr had an uncharacteristic level of energy at that moment. She was a child still, so perhaps it was not so surprising, despite her insistence on acting like a sulky teenager. She was nearly bouncing up and down with the need to do something interesting. Eventually, she raced headlong into the fields of tall grass. She didn't spend much time there, since she wasn't very tall and didn't have a great sense of direction. But she was not always thoughtful. Or, well, she was -- the cup of her mind was filled to the very brim with whims and fantasies -- just not with generally sensible ideas.

The grass waved gently around her as she nudged it out of her way with her nose and stepped further and further in. She lightly tapped out a little song of her own rhythm with her paws as she walked, and so lost track of her surroundings quickly. The sky began to darken before she noticed, and soon it was twilight and she looked back and realized that she had not left footprints in the hard ground and, on a related note, had not a clue how to get home. She had not walked in a particularly straight line and nor had she seen any landmarks anywhere. She hopped up on her hind legs to try to get a better view, but all that accomplished was her falling flat on her rump. She had no idea how far she had gone, but her ever-active mind was singing an entirely different tune than usual.

She was scared. It was a weird feeling and she did not like it. At all. It twisted her intestines into knots and sent a lump into her throat that made it hard to swallow. She didn't know what to do. She was alone. Nobody knew where she had gone, and even if they were expecting her back, she didn't want to have to deal with them worrying over her or getting mad at her for running off. The night faded in a shade darker. Would anyone even look for her? She didn't talk to anyone much, and they didn't often try to talk to her. She was always alone. She reached out to her characters -- what would Biggie do? What would any of them do? -- but they seemed only to look on, unable to give her the comfort and advice she needed. They were only products of her own mind, after all, and she couldn't think of anything positive nor any solutions. But she'd get herself out of this on her own, eventually.

She took a few more steps through the grass, figuring a couple more feet wouldn't hurt after all that way, and saw a little flower in the grass. A daisy. The grass surrounding it was much taller than it could ever grow, and yet it still stubbornly reached for the sun. Plants needed the sun, didn't they? Did the little daisy need more of that light? It was only an idle wondering, but something in the flower's quiet tenacity made Morgawr feel a little less scared.

Speech

WC: 518
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