La la la la la la. . . sang Arnitikós. She was building, or attempting to, a sphere out of mud. And every attempt results in the sphere giving in to its poor integrity and falling into a small mush of mud. If only she could find sand! She grew angry the more this muddy sphere fell apart flat, and the singing turned to growls, grrrrrr. . .
Then a stray firefly, Narïah, saw the puerile. She had intentionally lost her way from the colony and took another path, only hearing that it was one of the places where the puerile took residence. She heard voices of struggles and anger, and she flew slightly faster and saw Arnitikós, all in mud, sitting on the pond's muddy shore, and her face was smeared with mud and lines of grass.
'So you're the one behind the fuss. . .' thought Narïah. She flew until she was above her shoulder, relatively tiny compared to the grown-up child, 'Uhm, excuse me–'
Arnitikós looked back at the firefly in quick response, although only moving her head. She was unhappy with the disturbance, and her eyes were unwelcoming, 'Ah!' She exclaimed, 'Gurrr. . .'
'Oh! Oh, I am sorry!' yelped the firefly and turned to nervous laughter, 'I heard about you in the colony, "quite a piece of work," they called you.'
The Forson tilted her head in confusion, facially discontent, then noticed the glowing belly of the firefly, 'Oooo!' She got up to chase poor Narïah.
'No!' Cried the firefly, 'You'll hurt me!'
But the puerile thought of it as play. And she continued to follow the young firefly. The chase exhausted the firefly, for her wings were tiny and still developing.
'Please, I'm tired. . .'
Arnitikós only giggled and tried to snatch the poor insect with her giant grabby hands.
'Aheheheh. . .' Wickedly tittered the heterochromous, reaching for a patch of dirt and blasting it into the firefly's position.
And it fell and fainted.
A few steps in, and Arnitikós had witnessed the awful face of Narïah, and in turn, she became upset. She couldn't pinpoint the reason for her discontent, but seeing the young firefly faintly moaning made Arnitikós panic. Her face turned worrisome and beyond regretful, 'Ah, ah!' She called the motionless firefly but to no avail. The Forson then stood up, walking around the firefly's body in circles, groaning in confusion, anger, and hatred towards herself. She knelt back to the firefly and tried to blow the wind on it, but it only flapped her wings.
'Oooaaah!' She exclaimed on being helpless, then broke down in tears, and a red river fell down her chin. She could not stop crying. Poor firefly. But a drop or two of the puerile's tears fell on the firefly.
Narïah opened her eyes weakly and saw the giantess that had just severely wounded her, now crying at the sight of an unconscious firefly, now awake and unharmed, 'What happened. . .?' Asked Narïah, 'Are you alright? You're crying.'
Once Arnitikós heard the familiar voice again, her face turned to joy, eyes widened, and eyebrows raised. Observing the firefly flying up to her level and how well and healthy she seemed. Arnitikós was trying to reach for the firefly again to hug her.
'Hey! You'd crush me.' Narïah nervously explained, flying a bit higher.
Arnitikós's face bummed, but she understood how her size was lethal to the tenderness and tininess of Narïah.
'Why were you crying?' She asked.
The Forson looked down in shame, her cheeks smeared in dried red lines. She then looked up at Narïah and explained with concern, 'Ah, oooo, Ah aaaaaaaa. Eh. . . Eeeeeeeh. . .'
She reenacted how she threw a handful of soil, striking her down midflight.
'So you're the reason everything turned black for a moment!' Narïah said in a tone new to Arnitikós, but it worried her. The Forson pleaded in different and incomprehensible moans, knowing the damage she had done to the tiny firefly and just when she was about to cry again.
'Alright, I understand. Worry not. I am not angry at you. Look!' Narïah flew in circles and left a trail of the light that had always captivated the Forson, 'I am okay!'
'Oooooo!' Arnitikós jumped in excitement to the wellbeing of Narïah, wiping out her tears in a sniffle.
'Let's go to the colony, shall we?' The young firefly suggested, gesturing to Arnitikós that she was leading the way, 'Come now!' She left a trail of lime dust for the puerile to follow.