Like two peas in a pod they journeyed until the smaller, pinker one flew ahead. It was a quiet, lovely procession without the fanfare. But then the songbird found him. Rapid-fire communication followed and now he wore a flying, singing halo of pink. All he had to do was turn his head and he could n** the bird at its feathery base.
Ever mindful to stop lurking in the shadows, he consciously chose to close in on the distance. He forewent the introduction if only because the abrupt awkwardness made him uncomfortable and insecure. He felt that if he gave them time to take in his appearance, other kin would view him as monstrous. His hair was pretty but if they looked closely they would see more of his eerie features. So the best bet was to startle and then wrap them up in an engaging conversation. He was good at stories after all.
"Carnations are modeled after the falling feathers of the great Crane. Old age made her feathers molt and on the way down they mixed with blood, stars, leaves and thunderstorms. But as they made it to the ground, the delicate nature of the feathers prevailed and they fractured, spreading all over the swamp. Pink ones" he eyed her swollen frame "are especially good luck for expectant does." They had walked their way to a small hill overlooking the swamp. Strewn across were white and orange carnations.
"White's for the intelligent ones.
The orange ones are food for fiery natures, which I'm sure many of your brood will have in spades. Rest here, you're going to need it." Fiend left to continue on his journey without further parting advice.
Goosebumps finally caught up to the kimeti and songbird but not without scooping in for a pink carnation which he brought up to Fiend. Fiend was secretly fond of pink flowers.
