Kintla Flatlands my travel

She seemed young, but Mordecai wasn't entirely sure if that was her age or simply her size. From where he stood, and from the moment she had turned her head to look at him, it became clear that she was a petite creature. He smiled kindly at what she said, turning his attention to the canopy above them and the various hues of the leaves that still clung to their twigs and branches.

“You ever try catching them? Sometimes they're tasty,” he said, giving his lips a lick. Nothing fell directly overhead, but Mordecai was willing to give one chase if the moment came. “What's your name? I'm Mordecai,” he queried her again, tensing as a gentle tug of the wind plucked a leaf from the trees. He sprung, but missed his mark altogether. With a snap of his jaws together, the leaf evaded him swiftly.

Mordecai did not care, not really. A light-hearted sense had come to him, out here.