Twenty-Seven
[Wow! Winter's over! Sora's not really left the house since the incident with the tall, dark man. But if anything will lure him from the safety of his nest, it's beautiful, colorful flowers. So there he is, creeping down marble steps with his blanket training a bit behind him on the way to the soft grass lawn. He's never seen so many!
Daisies, tulips, roses, hollyhocks, crocuses, irises, goldenrods, snapdragons... It overwhelms him enough he just sits in a patch of clovers and begins to pluck poppies... and loop them one at a time with one another, forming a daisy and sing a little rhyme.]
Little Robin Redbreast
Sat upon a rail;
Niddle, naddle, went his head,
Wiggle, waggle, went his tail.
...Who is Robin, anyway? My book said he brought Spring.
Daisies, tulips, roses, hollyhocks, crocuses, irises, goldenrods, snapdragons... It overwhelms him enough he just sits in a patch of clovers and begins to pluck poppies... and loop them one at a time with one another, forming a daisy and sing a little rhyme.]
Little Robin Redbreast
Sat upon a rail;
Niddle, naddle, went his head,
Wiggle, waggle, went his tail.
...Who is Robin, anyway? My book said he brought Spring.