Monster

Sweet Berries

Bright morning rays of the sun met him and distant songs of birds.

He hesitated only briefly at the sight of several creepers curled up at the side of the house, who immediately perked up at the sight of the big villager. Their luminescent, green eyes immediately honed on Hero, sleeping on his back. Making little glad chirps, they bounced to Beor's legs. He sucked in his breath, briefly freezing, but then uneasily smiled.

"Y-you... can play with him a little later." He told them in appeasing tone, even though he was fairly sure that the creatures couldn't understand him. They paused, not seeing Hero's response, and looked back to the woods, ignoring the big villager. 

"And away from where anyone can see you." Beor concluded with a mutter under his breath, casting a wary glance toward the still sleeping village. What would the reaction of other villagers be once they learned of this strange reaction of monsters to Grake's little human?

He stepped off toward the path leading into the woods, at first cautiously, then more boldly as the creatures streaked away from him into grass, where they vanished between the blooming flowers. Only slight movement here and there betrayed their presence.

With a bit more confident bounce, Beor headed down the path in long, large strides. His assurance returned, filling his body with lightness and strength and he took deep breaths as he walked. The morning air was still cool and the long shadows of the trees kept the rising rays of the sun from his face. He enjoyed the feeling of solitude. For some reason, it made him feel... free?

"Beor? Where are you headed off so early in the morning?" A curious voice startled him to an abrupt stop, his heart briefly jumping in his chest.

Beor blinked at Grisham, their former neighbor. The older villager smiled at him, but his eyes looked on with a bit of ever-present suspicion. Beor uneasily smiled back.

"Good morning, uncle Grisham." He offered politely. The villager nodded with approval, still looking Beor over and noting details. Beor once again felt as if he was little and anxiously waiting for a grown-up to approve that he got his attire correctly for some grown-up ceremony of which was a countless number – villagers valued their traditions and celebrations.

"Good morning, good morning." The villager's eyes settled on Grake's foundling strapped to Beor's back and immediately lit up with curiosity, then narrowed.

Ever since Beor decided to move his family slightly further away from the hustle and bustle of the village and traded his uncle's old home to the Grisham's ever-growing family, along with improvements he already made on it, the old villager acted far more cordial to them than before, according to uncle Grake. He also helped him once, when Hero was very little.

Beor, though, found the old villager's constant interference annoying. Now that they learned of the strange reaction of the monsters toward his uncle's foundling, Beor was doubly glad that he moved a bit away from the rest of the village, so their neighbor's well-meaning visits ceased - it was too far.

What was he even doing out here of the village this early in the morning?

"Grake's foundling? Where are you taking him?" The old villager asked with suspicion. Beor didn't voice his grumble, only made a sheepish smile.

"I just thought I would give my uncle a break. My brother is watching our other little ones, but I thought I will take him along. He runs off and doesn't listen. This way I can keep a better eye on him."

"Ah, yes, yes, I remember." The villager thoughtfully nodded, but then his eyes narrowed. "I remember you lost him a month ago. You and old Grake looked for him everywhere."