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..."I'll just go in the back and look through our stock, alright?" Drat, she'd have to leave the book here. Hopefully he wouldn't mess with it. Elena spun about, letting her hair and skirt flare slightly, tossing one last remark over her shoulder. "You shouldn't be so hard on yourself. It's actually my favorite from the CD. Maybe you work better under a deadline?" With that, she disappeared, leaving Leonard alone.

Leonard smiled nervously and managed out a few quiet words of thanks from her willingness to help as well as from her compliments. And then she had vanished into the back of the store, leaving him to awkwardly stand around and look at random displays and price tags in the room.

...

...

the book.

With a cautious sweep of the eyes across the store to make sure the girl didn't happen to be watching, the musican took one step, then another, and then slowly bent down to slowly pick up the bound pages that had been capturing his attention since the moment he entered the store. Surely it wouldn't be too bad to just... take a closer look at the cover... and slowly ease it open, not knowing what to think at how a good portion of the book looked like it had had a run-in with something very angry...

A dead butterfly fell from the pages, gently floating down to land on the floor. As Leonard moved beyond the ripped and torn beginnings of the tome, a simple sentence written in elegant and spidery handwriting was displayed, begging for an answer. There were plenty of pens available, at the main counter, obviously set up for impulse shoppers.

The dead butterfly was something the man wasn't too surprised by, although he did find it rather sad. Poor little bug!

What did surprise him, however, was first whole and blank page in the book writing itself. It caused him to nearly drop it, but his hands jerked out to catch it before it could fall too great a distance. The question stared back at him, no mysterious ink spidering out to finish the statement, and it somehow gave off the distinct feeling of expectation.

He reached into a pocket to retrieve a pen (he always had one because nobody else ever did), and before he could stop himself, his hand delivered an answer in loopy script:

As soon as Leonard finished writing, a small circle of green grass appeared around the dead butterfly, rapidly spreading out and overtaking the shop itself. Trees appeared next, shooting upwards faster than any tree rightly should. More exotic plantlife came into view, sprouting on the trees and over the grass, making the entire area appear as it was part of a tropical rainforest, complete with the whine and buzz of millions of insects. A cautious flicker of wings, and the previously deceased butterfly took off from where it had been laying, winging its way deeper into the jungle. It was different from anything Leonard had likely seen, brilliant green wings leaving behind a trail of dust, as if it wanted him to follow.

Whatever mystical power that had caused the store to suddenly erupt into a jungle was probably the only thing that kept the musician from fainting outright from the shock, awe and confusion that came from such an abrupt change in surroundings. A minute or so passed as Leonard became accustomed to the new environment and was able to regain his composure - in retrospect, it would have been a lot easier were it not for the large and foreign butterfly impatiently bobbling around his head.

In any other situation, following a random insect in the middle of an unfamilar area would have been an extremely bad idea. The pianist had no idea what else he could do in this situation, though, so he ran after the winged insect, not wanting it to go out of his sight.

"Is this yours?" a girl asked, voice different in pitch from Elena. She stood in front of Leonard, blue eyes bright and curious. The butterfly was perched on her finger, and more insects followed around her. The jungle faded away as she spoke, leaving the pair standing in the Store once again.

Although it wasn't too good at expressing emotion, the large green lanternfly still managed to appear strangely happy rested on the girl's finger, amongst a small and diverse swarm of insects that flitted and buzzed around the strange little girl. The most unusual part of this sight was an oversized larvae of some kind, resting contentedly against her hip as if it were just as normal as any household pet that would usually be seen in that position.

Leonard was split between feeling endeared and slightly disgusted. For the sake of his own emotional-well-being, he chose the former, and replied, "Actually, I-I think it might be yours."

"Really?" the girl asked, her face lighting up as if she had just been told she was getting a puppy for Christmas. "Wow! You're so pretty!"

It was obvious that she was addressing the lanternfly and not the pianist who had just found her.

"Umm.. I h-hate to interrupt, but... wh-what's your name?"

The girl perked up and met the man's eyes again. "My name's Lydia. And this is Princess," she cheerfully added, indicating the faithful grub companion at her side. "Who're you?"

"Leonard. It's, er... n-nice to meet you, Lydia."