bottle of red, bottle of white

[Razekiel Lykoi]

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Would he be self-absorbed to admit it? Greedy, perhaps? Though it was rare to touch, doubt held back his words; Mother worked to build his confidence, returning songbirds to the canopies above and bringing a gentle, warm spring breeze over the lake. Breathing in deep, her warmth filled his lungs and heart, and for a moment he closed his eyes to simply bask in the moment, in the feeling that the Great Mother believed in him. It was what he should — no, must do. The chickadee pecked at his fingers and tweeted briefly, hopping about, suddenly filled as well with the inspiration of Mother Earth.

"The Great Mother wishes it," he smiled, straw eyes contented and relaxed behind the rose lenses. "She sees potential in these people... in this pack you brought up, man. They're strong, strong as a bear, big guy, but they can't meet what she sees in them here anymore."

A pause. "She thinks it's time for you to rest, too. Maybe... you've done your time, man. You did well."

The chickadee chirped and fluttered down to the ground, peering up at the cyclops as if awaiting an answer.