It was… cold?  Pan couldn’t exactly pinpoint why the summer weather seemed to shift so drastically here, and yet above the oasis, the air seemed ripe with chill.  He walked quietly along the abandoned water’s edges, his feet crushing through frost and sand as he rummaged about for herbs.  There weren’t many, but hearty grasses seemed to push their way through the earth around the water’s edge, as if defying the desert.  Like Pan, the plants here had evolved and changed to fit the locale.  The same could be said for the green boy with a wandering heart – for as he moves from place to place, Pan creates himself a home.

As a great shadow passes between the boy and the sun, he blinks at the sky, making out only the silhouette of the approaching mare.  Other than her arrival, the land is still and quiet, and so he welcomes the company with a wide and boyish grin.  Pulling the last bit of marsh herbs from the shallow water and thrusting it into his bag, he turns and makes his way toward the girl.

Hello?  His greeting is a question as he wonders if she would like his company… but before waiting for an answer, he steps boldly toward the new mare and offers, How’s the view from up there?  Oh, to be able to fly…. It would be Pan’s greatest wish.  In his dreams, the boy could simply think of happy things and leap into the sky.  The winds would carry him like a mother carries their child, and he could dive and tumble in the breeze as if it were ocean waves instead of rivets of air.  But then, dreams were far from his reality, so he can only sigh with a whimsical twinge of jealousy as he watches her land and explore the frost laden shores.

His breath is sheer against the day, expelling in a shimmery cloud of silver.  The boy takes great pleasure in this, blowing his breath in rings to watch it play in the cold.  I’m Pan by the way… What’s your name?