Butterfly

A fragile, winged creature flitted from rose to rose; jade eyes looking on in wonder. It was so small, and he was so big. Dimples graced his elbows, baby fat clinging to the cherubic child. He loved gardens. Often, as his mother toiled in her own way, he pulled on her sleeve or fingers, asking for "garden". Her golden eyes would meet his emerald, and declare that he had better make his bed before he thinks of "garden" again. And so the boy would toddle quickly, a half-waddle, to his small bed. Carefully, he would straighten his pillow and right his bright, blue blanket. Small hands not adept, he'd leave the edges uneven and the blanket crinkled in at least one area. Sometimes Bolin would peek at the bed next to his– one made with the grace and mastery of a six year old veteran– and smooth out the blanket for a few extra minutes before waddling back.

"Did you make your bed, young man?", his mother would always inquire, attempting a seriousness that they both knew she didn't have. Bolin nodded earnestly, wide eyes promising that his bed was made. Satisfied, she scooped him into her arms for a few moments, hugging her youngest– her baby. Bolin squirmed slightly, hiding the fact that he felt the most safe during times like these. Pressing a wet kiss to her cheek, he impatiently waited for their departure to a garden. Setting him down, she wrapped a bright green cloth around her head– concealing her long, wavy black hair– and scooped him up once again, twisting the door open and locking it behind her. When sheathed in his mother's arms, Bolin took the time to look at her deep amber eyes, watching in awe as they caught the light and turned a lighter gold, almost glittering in the gentle sunlight.

Sights and sounds of a quiet Republic City greeted the pair. An open-air market, reasonably littered with shoppers, quietly bustled nearby. Tall buildings along with low ones intermixed, differentiating this area of the city from the others. Bolin's wide eyes took in his mother's sudden scowl at a shining, well-polished satomobile as it passed them, swerving wildly to avoid hitting a nearby building. Bolin turned his head to stare, but snapped his attention to the area they approached: a wood-fence enclosed green area in an otherwise nature-lacking area of the city. There were trees, grass, flowers, roses, ferns, and other things the boy didn't know the names of. A small pond also graced the farthest corner of the garden-like park, dotted in turtleducks. A grin darted through Bolin's face as he squirmed and squirmed, waiting for his green-clad mother to put him down. Plopping him unceremoniously onto a patch of grass next to the roses, she took a seat on a nearby bench, stretching and resting.

Bolin began by staring at the flowers in silent adoration before plucking out clumps of grass to get the earth beneath. Clumps of earth in his fists usually granted him the same comfort an embrace from either of his parents– which confused yet astounded him. A movement ahead distracted him from his excavation: a series of pale white butterflies flitted from rose to rose, daintily propping themselves on the soft petals. He dropped the clumps of earth and settled into a uncomfortable, leaning stance: all the better to watch the butterfies flutter with. Suddenly, he was comfortably perched, watching the butterflies even closer. A rough slab of earth jutted from the patch of grass, anchoring the cherubic boy, whose face currently lit up with delight and wonder.


This chapter deals with the first time Bolin earthbended/bent. Not as good as I could've made it, but it's not like anyone is reading this :D !

Thanks, Super Junior, for the prompt xD