Stomping around in a shallow puddle, a small boy stared down at his feet in amazement. The way the water sloshed back into place after being splashed around by his own movements was fascinating, and he had already spent a good five minutes jumping around. Overheard, the fluttering leaves of a tall tree swayed in the breeze, making the spots of sunlight dance all around on the ground. Occasionally the light would glint off of the puddle and shine on his toes in the mud. He laughed and lost interest after a few more moments, soon resuming his path through the trees. The trunks were all wide and ancient, most covered in swirling vines or wide mushrooms that were sturdy enough to be used as footholds. Along the forest floor, colorful leaves of all shapes and sizes covered any hopes of finding the true ground. Puddles formed in various places, remnants of the storm that had ravaged the area the night before. All around, birds were twittering and flitting from branch to branch. In all, it was a peaceful and enchanted scene. The boy, called Frog by almost everybody who knew him, seemed to know exactly where he was going. His bare feet didn't hesitate to jump over rocks or wander around larger obstacles such as fallen trees. A stuffed frog hung from the back of his light brown shorts, the wide stitched mouth in a big smile as it bounced all around from the uncoordinated steps. Draped down between his legs and twitching around occasionally was a light blonde monkey tail, soft but covered in a layer of dirt along the tip from his wanderings. The boy wore an offwhite t-shirt that was obviously too big, the sleeves reaching just past his elbows and the collar so wide that it hung off of one shoulder. Still, it was his favorite and he refused to part with it despite his mother's pleading. He skipped along until he came to one of his favorite places, a large fallen log all hollowed out and covered in moss. Pulling the frog from his shorts, he sat down on the log and looked all around. This was where he was supposed to meet his parents, so he came every day to wait. The city had been attacked and they told him to run here. So far it had been three days and he was getting awfully hungry, but he knew his parents would be coming soon. After all, why wouldn't they show up? Nodding to himself, he flicked some mud from his toes and scratched at the side of his head. Shaggy blonde locks covered his pointed ears and framed a pale face, but the brilliant gold eyes added a touch of sparkling color. He rocked back and forth boredly and was about to go climb a tree to help him wait, but then he heard a buzzing. Curious, he looked up and saw a bunch of little bugs swirling all around him. They were striped and had wide wings, and he smiled delightedly at them. What had his father said they were called? Drabumflies? Yeah, that was it. He reached out with one finger and tried to poke one, but it darted out of reach. With wide eyes, he simply stared, watching them flutter around as one landed on top of his head.