to feel that we exist, even though in pain
♠︎ ♕ ♠︎
He listened with his eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration, as the boy read the clue aloud. August was just sober enough to be grateful that the lines were short and simple (and rhyming); anything more involved and he might have walked away then. This felt, if not manageable, then at least attemptable.
Not until Pan corrected him did he open his eyes again, and joined the boy in laughing as he looked between the two. A few passers-by gave them a wide berth and a long look, but August couldn’t be bothered to care, not when he was seized with hilarity at the look on the otter’s face at the pun.
“Hmmmmmm,” he said when he found his breath again. “Verdant means green or grassy, and the wind’s always making waves in the prairie. And the skyscapes there are-” he sought for and couldn’t find the word unparalleled “just really something.” Considering a moment more, August wrinkled his nose. “Besides, I uh. Am not sure I’m up to walking all the way to the lake right now.”
At the boy’s question he grinned, though truthfully August didn’t know why he’d gotten his name, and could hardly ask. “It was a name before it was a month,” he said, only slurring a little. Curious, August leaned in as the boy pulled out a compass, a look of mild consternation crossing his face as the needle spun without settling. He might have fallen hypnotized had Pan not spoken again, at which he lifted his head with a jolt.
“Ah, yes. The lake is that way-” he gestured north, toward the mountains. “And so, as it happens, is the prairie. Only a lot closer. Let’s go, Pan-and-Oliver.” He laughed at the boy, then nudged his shoulder and began to walk.
@pan | <3
