Fairspell Meadow the godspell

Anselm felt Emmerich's body heat radiate to his shoulder. Somehow the proximity was comforting as the two looked at the alien that graced their fields.

It was an alien, right?

His ear flicked back at Emmerich's question. I don't know. He whispered back, unable to take his eyes from the creature as it licked its toes, rose, and then shook out its fur in a surprisingly canid way. He was mesmerized most by that tail! It rose behind him like a silken fern, reminding him of those fiddlehead ferns he'd seen in the swamp. Think we could take it? Anselm didn't wait for an answer -- he was already crouched and inching his way towards the creature.

But the creature moved on, leaving the boys to their own. Anselm proposed they hunt the grasslands. Before long this place was empty, the two miscreants having returned where they came.