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"That's it, well done children" the Playwright speaks after the last note of todays rehearsal has been sung. "Seems like we're done for today" the sentence that basically translates to "You're free to go, go do whatever."
Peregrine, Cole and Kingsley have already started walking back home, Clémente can hear Kingsley talking about a story they want to play out today, something about a majesty, of course.
"Dearworth, will you not be joining your friends?" their teacher asks, looking to the direction of the rest of the Lark.
"Hmm…" the goat starts. "Could I maybe go to the flower fields today?"
—
They sit down on the grass, setting the basket they brought next to them. The field surrounded by trees, bushes, and flowers.
They start picking the flowers, a mixture of soft pastels, and starts weaving them together into flower crowns.
The only sounds they can hear are the wind, birds chirping, and their own humming. Speaking of birds, a meadowlark suddenly appears from behind the trees. Clémente looks up, startled by the sudden rustling sound.
The bird sits on the little goats knee, seemingly watching them. The kid giggles, reaching for their basket. "Would you like something to eat, birdy?" they ask while grabbing a piece of bread, picking the seeds off of it.
Clémente keeps talking to the bird while feeding it, stories that wouldn't make sense to anyone but them, but the bird seems to listen, chirping along, it almost sounds like a real conversation.
After all the seeds are eaten they brush their hands together, rubbing imaginary dirt off of them (and maybe a bit of actual dirt.) "Sorry little one" they say apologetically to the bird. "I don't have any more"
The meadowlark chirps twice, and then flies back to where it originally came from. "Aw, bye bye little friend" they wave sadly at the bird, now disappearing behind the trees again.
They sigh softly before working on their flower crowns again, humming one of the songs they had to sing during rehearsals today. Although it feels a bit… empty without Coles playing, it's still peaceful.
While weaving the flowers together, they start to lose track of time. The sky is getting darker, the wind is colder, and they should probably go back by now.
Instead they keep their focus on their task: making the crowns for their friends. The colours are slowly starting to blend together into an absolute masterpiece, if they can say so themselves.
They add a few sticks and leaves to the crown in their hands, 'surely Kings would love it!' they think, a small smile playing on their face at the thought. The thought of their friends being happy automatically makes them happy aswell.
Then, so sudden it startles them again, the rustling of leaves can be heard once more, coming from the same direction they waved at earlier. The meadowlark can be seen again, this time holding something in its mouth.
"You're back!" the kid exclaims happily, smiling brightly at the sight of the bird, missing tooth visible. They gesture for the bird to come back to its previous spot, the bird follows and sits back on the childs knee.
"What do you have there, little bird friend?" they ask while inspecting the bird. It drops whatever it was holding into Clémentes open palm.
Clémente holds it closer to their face to look properly. In their hand were now 3 beautiful flowers: persimmon, yellow, and olive green coloured, their friends' favourite colours!
They smile once more, thanking the little bird, and weaving the flowers in the flower crowns. Their conversation from earlier continues, Clémente talking about whatever they're thinking about in the moment, and the meadowlark chirping along.
"Clémmie!" they jump for the third time that day, their head snapping towards the direction of the voice. In the distance they see their green-haired friend. "Mx. Playwright said I had to come get you, it's too late to still be out." they continue, walking in the goat and birds direction.
Clémente quickly hides the, now finished, flower crowns in their basket and stands up. The little bird follows, now settling on their shoulder instead of their leg. "I'm coming!" they shout back at Peregrine, almost running to avoid getting scolded for being out late, again…
—
After saying their farewells to the little bird (who they've apparently named Gerald) the goat and moose walk inside the house, the bell on the door ringing once they step inside.
What they see when they walk inside is Cole playing their instrument, glancing down at their notebook, despite having had rehearsals earlier that day. And Kingsley dramatically acting out a story about a majesty, speaking in quick Tagalog to a leveret who definitely isn't paying much attention.
"We're back" Peregrine says, their voice practically pulling the king out of their story, their paper and cardboard crown falling off their messy hair, which they quickly pick up again.
"The dragon and the knight!" Kingsley beams, pulling their friends to the middle of the room. "Now we can actually start the story! Cole, you did pay attention, right..?" they ask, looking at the poor child, probably already knowing their answer.
"W-what?" the leveret asks confused, looking around the room like it's a foreign place. They spot Clémente and shyly smiles towards them, completely tuning out Kingsley, who is ranting about how they need to "respect their majesty."
Only then do the others notice the basket Clémente has been carrying with them ever since they stepped inside, and they immediately feel three pairs of eyes on them, rather then just Coles gray ones.
They have to think for a second before remembering the flower crowns. "Oh right! I almost forgot!" they put down the basket on the table, pulling out the crowns for their friends.
They hand out the flower creations, smiling proudly at their work.
"We should use these at the next performance!" Kingsley says excitedly, jumping up and down "I can be a real king then, with a crown!"
While Kingsley continues talking about the crowns, the performance, the story (and, well, Clémente has lost track by now) the knight walks towards the princess, sitting next to them.
They place the crown on the older childs head, smiling brightly at them. "A princess needs a crown aswell, honeysuckle" they say, combing some flaxen strands away from their eyes.
"Oh! Uhm… t-thank you Clémente" the leveret replies, face flushed and hidden away in their notebook.
"OY!" a shout suddenly pulls the pair out of their moment, they look back just to find Kingsley standing with their hands on their hips, 'they really do act like a majesty sometimes' the goat thinks, giggling to themselves at the thought. "Lets begin the story now" the child continues, putting the flower crown on their head.
And like anyone living in a kingdom would, the children listened to their little majesty.