You catch falling sweet raindrops with your tongue and can't get enough. It rained all night, and now you relish the world's most amazing drink - soft rainwater mixed with the nectar of the Truffula blossoms.
Not for yourself. For the growing summer within.
Been a while since you'd seen your own feetpaws, but for some reason you barely feel the change. It's not even that hard to bend down, kneel or lay down if you need a rest. Which you're actually doing right now. Like almost every day for a few last weeks.
Not for yourself. For the growing summer within.
You let Bar-ba-loots sit around as you nap in shade, allowing some of them to lick the honey-like sunlight that trickles down your belly. They're probably wondering how their caretaker remains so fat since winter, there's no winter coat on him after all.
They'll understand soon. Let them lick this liquid light, the summer will need this too.
Your belly's silky soft,and no wonder why - it's been thoroughly washed daily. You spend so much time licking it, basking, allowing the river waves to cradle it. The summer will need all of it. Once it's born, it'll reward the entire valley.
Yet another raindrop is about to fall from a Truffula fluff strand. A big one, with just a hint of nectar. And you watch it, worried, not wanting it to fall yet… because it's so much like you now.
You're so mesmerized by the drop that you unclasp your paws, letting go of the belly that…
-Plop-
…softly hits the ground. And for a moment, the valley freezes, sighing with relief as you lay down, the raindrop already on your moustache, the summer still safely sleeping within.