Chapter Text
They hid beneath the straw, hiding like the frightened hare it was. Its heart beat furiously, as if it was running, sprinting hard and fast to burrow to safety.
They weren’t running - they were as still as a mouse, quivering beneath the shadows cast by the towering grass. They could not call for help, and even if they wanted to, nobody would hear. The houses of Felicity were nothing more than blurs on the horizon.
It was well and truly alone, cornered by its solitude.
It could not hum a tune to save itself.
The man of straws wandered, aimless yet deliberate, tracing the hay with long, spindly fingers, their nails painted turquoise like the vast, faraway oceans.
“I can see your eyes, Seymour, even if you cannot see mine.”
Their voice was singsong, melodic and they chuckled a twinkling laugh.
“They look like what is hidden beneath the hay. They are as grey as the coldest day.”
Cole held their breath, trembling.
“You have stories to be told, they are carried in the instrument you hold.”
Tears welled up in their eyes.
“They shall cage you and you shall die in fear. Child, you do not belong here.”
They let out a muffled sob and the storyteller perked up like a rabbit.
“You will be found, child, and you will be forgotten.”
Cole froze. The storyteller was looming above them.
Their eyes were not visible beneath the straw hat and straw-coloured hair. Their freckled face framed the wide, twisted smile that revealed sharp teeth of the purest white. They looked as though it may eat the shaking child below them.
They raised their calloused hands, contorting fingers to claws. They descended, down, down, down, grabbing them, pulling them away, taking them far, far away from where they stood.
They could not hum a tune to save their life.