Noctisardor Bypass zögern

”harte strafe,” she huffed, cutting her gaze to the branches high above. would that she could navigate them even half as easily! the squirrel was lucky to have the advantage. his rufous coat would line her bed handsomely. 

the pettiness of such thoughts made phaedra smirk  to herself as she absently gathered the tree-nuts mahler tried to spread into the crook of her wrist. 

pushing herself from her elbows, she considered his question for a beat. partly to glean the new word he provided — bewirtschaftet! a-ha! — but mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure of her answer. 

acorns turned into trees, did they not?

”ein wald,” phaedra decided. was there ever a more ambitious vision? she watched her father carefully, discerning of any flicker of doubt that might touch his face. 

a grin unfurled on her mouth, its whimsy reaching her eyes. she would find some other project to do before the day was done, leaving the squirrel to his peace.

and now that papa was here, her mind was indeed glad to retire from the topic of boring agriculture and turn instead to what knowledge she could pry from his. 

she presently covered the acorns with leaf-litter — a vain attempt to hide them from the black, beady eyes watching her activities with scorn. 

”wer hat dir diese dinge beigebracht?”

or was he born smart like she suspected, born knowing his path in life?

and why was it so hard to find hers?