The air of the still young world buzzed with the sound of bees. Lush, green grass, dotted with bright dots of colors in the form of flowers stretched to the horizon.
Sitting somewhere in the middle of the meadow, a little boy could be found. The green stems were so tall they almost hid him, but he had flattened a small, round patch of grass around himself, almost like a nest.
A pair of pristine white, feathered wings were folded neatly on his back; his legs were crossed and his hands rested on a book in his lap. His whole body had leaned forward slightly to bring his eyes closer to the letters below. Long hair fell over his features, nearly hiding a pair of stubby, golden horns that had yet to grow. Brows knitted together tightly, he moved his lips slightly when he read. He was no older than eight, reading still was a hard task to him.

Suddenly, a rustle startled him. The boy looked up, wings spreading just a little. He listened carefully, but there was nothing now. Strange, he definitely hadn't imagined it. Suddenly, something dark rushed over his head from behind, fast and so close it touched his hair for a few seconds. Then a dull 'thump' sounded from further ahead when something - someone? - hit the ground.
The boy jumped to his feet, book falling down, and pushed through the grass. His long robe got caught on the stems of flowers more than once, but he didn't pay it any mind.
Then he found the source of the noise and a light-hearted laugh escaped him.
"Meta! Are you okay?"
Another boy sat up from where he had landed, or more, crashed recently. He glanced at the other boy carefully, then folded a pair of dark, bat-like wings on his back.
"I'm... okay. Just fine. Um... Thanks for asking, Galacta."
Meta stood carefully; he was taller than the other, a tiny bit. Galacta grinned widely and took Meta's wrist: "Come on then, I made a nest over there!"
When he got no objection, he quickly pulled the newcomer over to where he had been sitting previously. Once there, he let himself fall to the ground with his arms folded under his head.
Meta remained standing.

"I... I made something," the boy with the batwings said, "Um... It's... it's for you."
Galacta sat up again: "Uh?"
He watched how the other kneeled down to get on eye-level with him, holding up his robe so it wouldn't get any grass-stains. Then, he pushed one hand into the bag he had slung around his hips and pulled out a chain of flowers.
"So you did learn how to do it!," Galacta chirped happily.
Meta nodded eagerly, cheeks showing a hint of red. He stretched his arms out and looked at the other questioningly. Galacta dipped his head and Meta quickly placed the chain on his head, turning it into a sort of tiara.
The pink-haired boy grinned and straightened up.
"Thank you!"
He leaned forward and gave Meta a small peck on the nose. The blue-haired boy grinned, cheeks still a rosy color.

Both of them lay down next to each other and looked upward, watching the clouds. Just when Galacta thought he would doze off, Meta spoke up.
"I had a nightmare last night."
The pink-haired boy remained quiet, waiting. He knew not to interrupt Meta in situations like this. And really, after a brief moment of silence, his companion continued:
"I don't... remember much now. But it was really hot... and you slapped me. And I think after... after that we... I don't know, but it... burned."
Galacta laughed quietly and turned his head to look at Meta, finding that the blue-haired boy's silver eyes were looking at him, too.
"I would never slap you, dumb-brain!"
Meta pouted: "It was a scary dream."
The boy with the white wings rolled his eyes, but still reached out to grasp Meta's hand in a comforting gesture. He shifted a little closer, until he could feel the other's breath on his face.
"Don't worry about dreams. I'll protect you. I'll protect you forever."