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Description
Pond waded in the water, listening to the serene sounds of his environment. Autumn was approaching, and with it came a new mood of nature. The birds chirped and darted about, collecting twigs and the like to build their nests to carry them through the cold of upcoming winter. Squirrels galloped across the grass and straw, feverishly burying acorns... or stealing the seeds from their neighbors' hiding places and burying them in a secret location of their own. Most importantly, the leaves were falling. Around him were bushels of fiery reds yellows and oranges, having turned from their vibrant green. They danced on the swirling wind, waltzing around one another until their miniature performances ended on the ground among the dry grass.

As the pastel grem pondered, he watched the display, thoughts twirling and turning along with the leaves. It was a nice time of the year to take in the world as harsh heat began to fade, and the cool trickled in. However, his peace was interrupted when he became distracted by a particularly interesting leaf. In fact, it was coming right towards him. Taking a closer look, he was slowly coming to realize that this orange leaf was no leaf! In fact, it was a butterfly, drawing nearer with its black-spattered wings. He jumped immediately and backed away, trying to weave out the bug's path. To his dismay, it followed ominously drifting ever nearer like a box jellyfish.

Meekly, he splashed the water towards the haunting bug in an attempt to shoo it away, or at least knock it out the air. Yet, his aim proved to be terrible, as it simply flew higher and then nearer once again. Pond was panicking now... what had he done to come across such a horrible fate? Who had he upset to have to endure such torture? The grem fished around in his mind for another defense tactic that might keep the beast at bay. Maybe it was moving towards him because he was moving? He decided to stand still. His eyes fixed firmly on the creature. It drew nearer and nearer, and with each flap of those dreaded ink-spattered orange wings, his delicate trembling had increased. He held still few a few seconds more until finally, he couldn’t take it---he jumped and climbed onto the riverside, running further.

It seemed the butterfly was stalwart in its pursuit. It encroached further, slowly but steadily, like a zombie. No matter how far he ran, it seemed to follow. He searched his mind for the next idea. Play dead this time! It always worked, didn’t it? He made a dramatic show of it, clutching at his heart, stumbling… spinning.. falling… He garnished it with a few throaty gags. Truly, his pursuing enemy would abandon its hunt if its prey already lay dead. Finally, he rocked back and forth, crashing into a field of flowers and sticking out his tongue. It was almost as though the flowers understood his plight and petals flew up into the air, gracefully landing atop him in a beautiful display.

“Bleh,” he remarked, adding a cherry on top.

Pond waited… and waited. The cruelest thing about these monsters is that they made no sound, and it was hard for him to tell if they were still approaching, lay perched nearby, or had long passed him. He waited a minute or two longer, almost sweating as he awaited his fate. Just as he was about to open an eye, he felt something move on his leg. His mind lit up in panic, but he tried to tell himself it was a flower petal. Then he felt something else shifting on his arm. It must have definitely been the petals now. He tried to reason that the wind was blowing, but having felt none rustle his fine fur, he grew more suspicious.

Finally, he gave in. Upon opening his eyes, he saw the dreaded insect had landed on his leg. Then he looked towards his arm where a second butterfly sat, cleaning its repulsive face with those grotesque hairy arms. Immediately, he let out a scream, jumping up and making a dash for it. Daring to look back over his shoulder, he learned that there were more than just two who had decided to crowd him. Behind them, there were four looming about his makeshift deathbed among the flowers.

‘Why are there butterflies, isn’t it supposed to be fall??’ his panicked mind questioned the universe.

Pond ran and ran, hopping over logs and leaves and didn’t slow down until his little cottage was in sight. He chanced another look over his shoulder, hopefully making sure that he was no longer being followed. He didn’t see anything, but he couldn’t be completely sure. Opening the door, he slipped quickly inside, and locked it. A pair of anxious eyes peeked over the edge of his windowsill, darting about and surveying the area to ensure that he had truly fled the monsters. After he was certain they were gone, he exhaled a long breath. That was enough adventure for today. Pond curled up on his chair and drifted towards a nap, willing it to be filled with bubbles and gentle fish.

Description
Pond waded in the water, listening to the serene sounds of his environment. Autumn was approaching, and with it came a new mood of nature. The birds chirped and darted about, collecting twigs and the like to build their nests to carry them through the cold of upcoming winter. Squirrels galloped across the grass and straw, feverishly burying acorns... or stealing the seeds from their neighbors' hiding places and burying them in a secret location of their own. Most importantly, the leaves were falling. Around him were bushels of fiery reds yellows and oranges, having turned from their vibrant green. They danced on the swirling wind, waltzing around one another until their miniature performances ended on the ground among the dry grass.

As the pastel grem pondered, he watched the display, thoughts twirling and turning along with the leaves. It was a nice time of the year to take in the world as harsh heat began to fade, and the cool trickled in. However, his peace was interrupted when he became distracted by a particularly interesting leaf. In fact, it was coming right towards him. Taking a closer look, he was slowly coming to realize that this orange leaf was no leaf! In fact, it was a butterfly, drawing nearer with its black-spattered wings. He jumped immediately and backed away, trying to weave out the bug's path. To his dismay, it followed ominously drifting ever nearer like a box jellyfish.

Meekly, he splashed the water towards the haunting bug in an attempt to shoo it away, or at least knock it out the air. Yet, his aim proved to be terrible, as it simply flew higher and then nearer once again. Pond was panicking now... what had he done to come across such a horrible fate? Who had he upset to have to endure such torture? The grem fished around in his mind for another defense tactic that might keep the beast at bay. Maybe it was moving towards him because he was moving? He decided to stand still. His eyes fixed firmly on the creature. It drew nearer and nearer, and with each flap of those dreaded ink-spattered orange wings, his delicate trembling had increased. He held still few a few seconds more until finally, he couldn’t take it---he jumped and climbed onto the riverside, running further.

It seemed the butterfly was stalwart in its pursuit. It encroached further, slowly but steadily, like a zombie. No matter how far he ran, it seemed to follow. He searched his mind for the next idea. Play dead this time! It always worked, didn’t it? He made a dramatic show of it, clutching at his heart, stumbling… spinning.. falling… He garnished it with a few throaty gags. Truly, his pursuing enemy would abandon its hunt if its prey already lay dead. Finally, he rocked back and forth, crashing into a field of flowers and sticking out his tongue. It was almost as though the flowers understood his plight and petals flew up into the air, gracefully landing atop him in a beautiful display.

“Bleh,” he remarked, adding a cherry on top.

Pond waited… and waited. The cruelest thing about these monsters is that they made no sound, and it was hard for him to tell if they were still approaching, lay perched nearby, or had long passed him. He waited a minute or two longer, almost sweating as he awaited his fate. Just as he was about to open an eye, he felt something move on his leg. His mind lit up in panic, but he tried to tell himself it was a flower petal. Then he felt something else shifting on his arm. It must have definitely been the petals now. He tried to reason that the wind was blowing, but having felt none rustle his fine fur, he grew more suspicious.

Finally, he gave in. Upon opening his eyes, he saw the dreaded insect had landed on his leg. Then he looked towards his arm where a second butterfly sat, cleaning its repulsive face with those grotesque hairy arms. Immediately, he let out a scream, jumping up and making a dash for it. Daring to look back over his shoulder, he learned that there were more than just two who had decided to crowd him. Behind them, there were four looming about his makeshift deathbed among the flowers.

‘Why are there butterflies, isn’t it supposed to be fall??’ his panicked mind questioned the universe.

Pond ran and ran, hopping over logs and leaves and didn’t slow down until his little cottage was in sight. He chanced another look over his shoulder, hopefully making sure that he was no longer being followed. He didn’t see anything, but he couldn’t be completely sure. Opening the door, he slipped quickly inside, and locked it. A pair of anxious eyes peeked over the edge of his windowsill, darting about and surveying the area to ensure that he had truly fled the monsters. After he was certain they were gone, he exhaled a long breath. That was enough adventure for today. Pond curled up on his chair and drifted towards a nap, willing it to be filled with bubbles and gentle fish.