[ oh, sweet confetti, too busy to look back or cover his tracks . . . the cliffside rocks embedded in the sand have fractures of entries into their cold, quiet caves. the fairy flutters inside without hesitation and disappears within one of the many dim-lit caverns. it may be dangerous to get into them, with the rocky surfaces slippery and the waves that roll against them not at all kind. but, you can tell which one houses a single confetti: its happy, showy chirps echo from inside.
inside, they're not as dark as one would expect. mysterious designs and natural lights glow from the cave's wall and ceilings. it's eyecatching, a little loud, given the sounds whirring from the winds outside— but it's restful. just not empty. paul would find what's taken residence here fills an otherwise vast, rocky chamber with its body so close to the ground to fit, its wings so pinned to its sides. confetti chirps happy and proud to have brought him food, hopeful that it would ease the low rumbles from his belly. falco would think to ask: where did you get all of this? is it missing from anyone's things? the fish are all raw, as are the potatoes. that's going to make an ugly concoction of tastes all put together, but . . .
falco won't reprimand him for trying. this might not even be enough— but the creature complies with a wistful sigh and opens up his beak for the fairy to dump every piece of food from its cloth bag. ]
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inside, they're not as dark as one would expect. mysterious designs and natural lights glow from the cave's wall and ceilings. it's eyecatching, a little loud, given the sounds whirring from the winds outside— but it's restful. just not empty. paul would find what's taken residence here fills an otherwise vast, rocky chamber with its body so close to the ground to fit, its wings so pinned to its sides. confetti chirps happy and proud to have brought him food, hopeful that it would ease the low rumbles from his belly. falco would think to ask: where did you get all of this? is it missing from anyone's things? the fish are all raw, as are the potatoes. that's going to make an ugly concoction of tastes all put together, but . . .
falco won't reprimand him for trying. this might not even be enough— but the creature complies with a wistful sigh and opens up his beak for the fairy to dump every piece of food from its cloth bag. ]