Rosewater Oasis Insomniac

too small, too quiet, too sad for his age. her heart twisted in a way she wasn’t used to, and she frowned, her lips pressing into a thin line. no kid should look like that, like the world had already wrung all the joy out of him.

she nudges the jackrabbit closer again with her nose. oh, this? she says nonchalantly, peeking at him. this wasn’t breakfast. i got bored and killed it. you can eat it, or you can play with it. or both. her smirk grows a little wider.

then she flopped onto her side dramatically, her lanky frame stretched out in the sand, and tilted her head to keep him in her peripheral vision. up to you, kid. but i’m not taking it back, so you’d better figure it out.

like an older sibling trying to coax a stubborn younger one into lightening up.