Noctisardor Bypass lottau

maybe @Ezra? <3

bees flew in twined paths overhead a wolf carrying away honeycomb from its lowest reaches. not much was there, but it would be more than enough for a good taste.
as the afternoon moved toward evening, heda readjusted her grasp upon the sweet offering, chuffing out to any pups within earshot.

his energy from the day had yet to wane, still rife with the buoyed rush of giggles even as he pants from the latest game of tag.

but quietly and quickly, ezra slips out of the game at hearing his mother's chuff.

it doesn't take him long to find her; greeting her with a boyish smile and a furious wag of his tail that does not necessarily match the pants he takes as he tries to catch his breath. but he does catch his breath.

wha' dat mama? he asks, attention latching onto the honeycomb she's brought as if it were a shiny bauble and he a curious magpie.

setting it down, heda beamed to see ezra's approach. "it's a bit of honeycomb, baby," she told him, showing the boy the amber liquid in the hexagonal rows. "sweet and so good! try some."
sitting to watch, heda propped her chin on a crooked forepaw and observed ezra "what sorts of things do you think about?" the young mother asked after a moment.

she calls it honeycomb and ezra blinks at the weird looking, sweet smelling honeycomb with a tilt of his head; studious. he hesitates only for a small second before he takes a small bite of the honeycomb piece, his expression a myriad of things as he experiences the soft crush of it's structure and the sticky honey that coats his tongue in a floral sweetness.

's good! he announces his decision upon it, despite his face making some serious expressions, not unlike a baby trying a new flavorful food for the first time.

he takes another bite, chewing in a way that could be considered thoughtful though his thoughts at this age were easily scattered like a leaf caught in the wind.

she asks him, then what he thought about and ezra, not really at an age where he had deep, meaningful thoughts or conversations shrugs his shoulders.

bugs. pwetty wocks. pwaying.

her laugh was pure delight as ezra enjoyed one of the best things that god had ever designed for his beloved creation. and she watched as he thought carefully about her question.
"what sorts of rocks and bugs do you like, ezra?" heda continued carefully. he was too little to truly have articulate thoughts, or be able to say them. but what he could say were things that she wanted to know.

uuuhhhmmm, he contemplates after a long moment of chewing another small bite of honeycomb, considering her answer.

in truth, he had nothing sincerely thought out to say: he liked rocks and bugs and it was truly that simple, at the moment. it didn't even occur to him that in the future those interests might and possibly would change.

pwetty wocks and uhm bumbees! says with the pure delight of a child who giggled as he caught a honeybee face first in a flower but has not yet had the misfortune of being stung.

pretty rocks and butterflies. simple things. "do you know these were all created by god?" heda told her son quietly. "all the most beautiful things we love were created, and just because god loves us."
isn't it wonderful, ezra, to be loved so unconditionally?
for hers felt as though it always would be. she looked him and almost wept.

god.

something in the three letter word stirred something slumbering within the boy; something archaic and sacrosanct. something he does not recognize but feels in the very stardust of his soul, in the marrow of his bones.

god.

it holds power, this word and ezra wishes to cage it behind his teeth, to let it sink into his tongue.

god? he half asks, half tries the word on his tongue. so simple.

his feet are as rooted into place as the trees; curious to hear more, if she was willing to share. vha dat?

god spoke to her son. heda could see it, could sense in ezra the still small voice which was not a voice at all, but a sensation of feeling one experienced.
"god is all around us. he created everything you see, everything you are. and he loves you so much, ezra. he is the creator of all things and you can still talk to him anytime you'd like."
and when was the last time she'd talked to god?

though the concept of god as both creator of everything and an entity that he can speak to are a bit more than young ezra can currently comprehend, he thinks of the sometimes voice that threads into his inner monologue: not his. older. older than bones and the sky ... and he wonders about it for the first time. was it god?

vow — he breathes, like a child at a national history museum staring up at a skeleton of a t-rex for the first time. despite that he couldn't physically see god. god wasn't tangible to him.

"close your eyes. just listen. don't open them. right. like that. now. just breathe and just listen. you can hear the birds. you can hear the wind. you can hear the air in the grass, and the trees, right? what about your heart? can you hear that? okay. what about — under all those sounds? that hum? you hear it, and you feel it. that's god."