I delicately fingered a blade of grass, frowning. A figure was a few trees over, up in the branches, waiting in silence. I pondered a moment, whether or not to approach. I hated to interfere in whatever, and usually stuck to my own, but curiosity would sometimes get the better of me. I managed to plant myself firmly in my spot, deciding he would talk to me if he cared at all or even noticed. Usually, though, nobody did. A figure ran up to him and I shifted so that I couldn't see him. I had always hated being alone. I suspected that there would never be someone who was interested in hearing my story.









