Cricket Creek Bog Searching

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he nods, still silent, still observing the cricket swansong. they prepare to die; he, just begins to live and such irony also amuses the boy. they sing in their simplicity while he gladly contemplates his own existence. ysengrin turns his head at the raise of voice, noting the deathly quiet next to him. ah, this should not be so - he wishes to sing to accompany their melody but he does not. for he must listen to another speak, and he must hear every word!
the youth supposes it would be rude to not accompany a lady in her musing so he waltzes forth, gracefully slipping onto his side. he still opens not his mouth; barely nods instead to, in childish mischief, play up the silent stranger role. if she wills him to be silent then let his tongue not wag! ysen will listen to every word she says, and silent in his unfamiliarity to her he will be.

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