The Bracken Woods She

He doesn’t move or flinch when they rise. He is rooted to the spot, ears lowering. If they were to bite him, so be it, he thinks. 

Fortunately for him, they refrain, at least for now. All he can do is offer a listening ear.

Then, a confession.

He can’t quite parse what they mean, but tries his best to do so.

What.. things? What is it that you want? He whispers back, hoping for clarification.