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Now Mythen wasn't too terribly unaware of his guardian's handicap. He knew Nailen was blind, yes, but the bright little pocky also knew that he had this weird complex of having to do EVERYTHING himself. Whether it was to prove a point, or what, Mythen really had no idea. Right now, his silvery hair was loose of its usual braid, falling around its shoulders, and the mutt that he called guardian was behind him, running fingers through his hair, trying to pull it back into some semblance of order. In the midst of a park. In broad daylight. And so, the child was batting at the Elf....fallen...demon...thing, trying to get him to just leave well enough alone.

After all! There was a tasty treat sitting on the table in front of him. Did Nailen really expect him to IGNORE cake and tea, and other assortments of food? It was supposed to be a picnic, he understood that, but as his stomach growled, the tiny pocky let out a whine,
"Naiiiii! I'm hungry! Why can't I eat NOW?" A beleaguered sigh met his ears, and he turned to face the other,
"What?!" Nailen's eyes were closed, and he was massaging the bridge of his nose gently, leaning heavily on the staff that guided him around. A tan hand moved up to rest on Nailen's pale forearm, and Mythen took that time to admire the contrast, before he got the tongue-lashing he knew was coming,
"Mythen....The simple reason is that I would like you to wait. I need you to be patient for at least a moment's time....can you do that?"

Wrinkling his nose, every picture of the usual childhood indignance, the Mousse White boy sighed heavily,
"I GUESS so. The sigh of relief from Nailen actually made his tiny pang of guilt lessen a bit, and he turned, yet again, to let Nai braid his hair. It took only a moment, and upon his guardian's request, the tiny one got up, and ran out onto the grass to play for a little while. It seemed the other had to set things up for lunch, which the little one could accept. For now.

Now Nailen wasn't paying too much attention to his little ward. The other was pretty far off at the moment, playing where Dinnye would take his fall in a moment. The blind Elf had heard two more people enter the area where his snotty brat of a charge, and the quiet male were taking their time. Tipping his head, he stood as he heard the sound of someone falling. Praying (as horribly as it was) that it wasn't Mythen, the Elf stood, only to hear the smaller a moment later.

Mythen had seen Dinnye's fall, and found a pair of glasses skittering curiously to his feet. Picking them up, he set them to his face, frowning as they just irritated his eyes. Dancing over to the other Pocky on bare feet, Mythen knelt in front of him, canting his head to the right, speaking in that way children have,
"Are these yours? They fell by my feet." With that said, the boy presented the glasses right to Dinnye's face, a proud expression lighting his eyes. HE'D found these, 'kay, thanks. Technically, he had a right to give them to ANYONE he wanted to. Since it looked like they were this boys, Mythen figured he might as well give the BACK. It wasn't like they did him any good.