Garden Of Hearts

Chapter 2: Utopia

When Ray said it was a long way, he wasn't joking. They had been walking for three days straight, luckily the mountain lion was kind enough to let them rest at night. It was even luckier that Brett hadn't been eaten. He was now sure that Ray wasn't lying about his motives of helping him, because who'd wait that long to eat their meal? No one right in their mind at least.

"Are we any closer?" Despite getting a decent night's rest, Brett still felt tired from all of their moving. He liked the scenery but he never had the time to take it in and actually enjoy it. The world around him was all so new to him, yet there was no time to explore it.

"Don't worry, faunling; we draw near. Once we see the waterfall, we're practically there," Ray flashed him an assuring smile.

"A waterfall? I have seen many pictures of them in books but never one close up. That will be just lovely," Brett smiled slightly, he hoped he would be able to absorb such a scene, if only Ray would give him the time. The puma was adamant on keeping a quick pace, probably from the fear of being tracked. Brett knew his master quite well; he was a cruel man who wouldn't stop at anything if his mind was set to it. If they were the farmer's new obsession, there would be know doubt that he'd try to stalk them like prey. In that sense it was a good thing to travel as fast as possible. It was hard to follow an already lost scent even with the best of dogs.

"You really have lived a sad life. It's a shame you haven't seen many things beyond the fence of the farmhouse," Ray pitied the small creature. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to live right on the edge without ever experiencing more. Even if the lion didn't know the faun that well he couldn't help but hope that Brett would fulfill more of his life within the colony. To most it was a utopia. A place all could go and call sanctuary. He wanted the same feeling to be extended to Brett. It was strange to want this for a creature that was typically considered prey.

"Then it is time for me to see all of this." Brett was determined to finally fill his life with excitement and see as many things as he possibly could before his life ended. It would do him no good to live like he lived on the pasture; as chained livestock. He took Ray's hand so he would do his damndest to get as much out of this life as possible.

His eyes wandered over the serene looking meadow. Most of the wild flowers were almost shrivelled up and dead, the grass was taking a gentle yellowish color to it. Everything was preparing to die. But here he was, standing - or more like running - alive and well. His scarf was nestled around his neck securely and his hands balled up in that. He couldn't deny it; he was nervous. For multiple reasons. Not only because he never had to endure a winter outside, but also he never met other magical folk. Would they like him? Would they take him in? Or would they abandon and shun him? He hoped for the former.

His brown eyes went to the puma.

"Can you tell me more about your friends? I would love to hear from them." Not only that, but also he could maybe hear what they would find abhorrent and disdainful and avoid doing or speaking about it. He wanted to make a good first impression.

"My friends huh?" Ray chuckled softly, he supposed that the faunling would want to meet them as well. It would only be fair to tell him what to expect. His eyes traveled back to Brett, eyeing him over. He'd probably fit right in, "I have my pride but then I have the few friends that are dear to me. Two of them are cervitaur siblings, they spend most of their time in the gardens and making medicine out of herbs. Then I have also befriended a naga, she is a performer of sorts."

He didn't want to say much about them, since their stories were their own to tell and Brett would meet them soon enough.

"I see. They sound nice. Also a performer you say?" He liked music! "Does your friend sing or play an instrument? I like that. Or I think I like that," he added sheepishly. He wasn't exposed often to such luxury. But once, he heard a group of bards accompanied by gypsie music when they were passing the pasture. Oh, how he longed to go with them that day. And he liked the music they made. It was cheerful and happy sounding.