Story #28: The Scarecrow's Wind-Child

Ninjago crossover with "La Leyenda de los Espantapajaros"

writing prompt: pumpkins; moon; cats

Summary: A lonely scarecrow discovers a friend in a little lost wind-child named Morro. But when their bond leads to near disaster, can little Morro rescue his newfound friend in time?

TW: mention of sedative, hypothermia, implied mind manipulation

Once upon a time, in a golden wheat field that stretched as far as the eye could see, there stood a solitary scarecrow. This scarecrow was not like any other; he was meticulously crafted, with straw-stuffed limbs, a patched coat, and a tattered hat that sat askew atop his straw-stuffed head. His button eyes seemed to glimmer with a life of their own, though no one ever noticed, for he had no friends and no companions of any sort. Wrapped around his neck was a long, woolen scarf, its threads frayed and colors faded, a token of warmth and comfort in his lonely existence.

Day after day, he stood vigil in the field, his purpose clear: to scare away the birds that dared to feast on the farmer's crops. It wasn't a difficult job, but it was unbearably lonely. There was no one to talk to, no laughter to share, and no companionship to warm his heart. The days and nights seemed to stretch on endlessly, blending into an eternal monotony that he could hardly begin to bear.

The scarecrow's only solace was watching the birds. Every morning, as the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, the birds would begin their flight over the fields. He would wave his straw-filled arms and call out cheerful greetings, hoping that one day they would respond. But they never did. Instead, they veered away, as if terrified of his very presence.

Despite the cold shoulder, the scarecrow harbored no ill will towards the birds. He admired their freedom, their ability to soar high above the earth, and he longed to befriend them. One day, driven by his desire for connection, he did something forbidden: he offered the birds some seeds, scattering them at his feet in a gesture of goodwill.

But the birds, usually eager to snatch up any food, remained distant. They hovered just out of reach, their beady eyes watching him with suspicion and fear. The scarecrow's hope waned as he realized that even this act of kindness could not bridge the gap between them.

Why won't they come closer? he wondered, feeling the weight of his loneliness press down on him. What have I done to deserve this heartache, this unending isolation? The scarecrow spent countless nights pondering these questions, his button eyes gazing up imploringly at the star-studded sky, seeking answers in the vast expanse above. And yet, no answers came—only even greater loneliness.

And so, the scarecrow stood alone in the field, surrounded by golden wheat and the whisper of the wind. His long woolen scarf fluttered gently in the breeze, a lonely sentinel against the night. Despite his efforts, he remained friendless, but his hope for companionship never truly faded. For even in the face of rejection, the scarecrow's heart remained steadfast, always ready to welcome a friend with open arms. Yet he never anticipated that the friend he was destined to find would not be a bird, but a forlorn, helpless human boy.

One unusually cold late summer day, the scarecrow, heavy-hearted from his myriad unsuccessful attempts to befriend the birds, suddenly noticed a strange commotion in the sky. He looked up and saw a child being flung about by the powerful winds of a tornado. The boy, Morro, was tossed and turned, completely unable to control his flight as he thrashed and writhed desperately in the cataclysmic-force gales of bitterly chilly air.

With a sudden, forceful gust, Morro was sent hurtling headlong toward the ground, landing with a sickeningTHUDat the scarecrow's feet. The scarecrow startled, his eyes widening in utter shock and bewildering confusion. Never before had he seen a human so young, and certainly not one who seemed to come falling from the sky like a leaf in the wind.

He carefully bent down, his straw limbs creaking, and examined the unconscious boy. The scarecrow felt a new kind of worry stirring within him—a mixture of curiosity and concern for the strange child who had appeared so suddenly in his lonely field. As the scarecrow knelt down as best he could, he saw that the child was rather fair-skinned, his complexion a creamy almond-tone, set against a silky, wispy mop of shaggy coffee-brown locks. There was a spattering of freckles across the boy's nose, and his chest rose and fell so softly that it was almost musically rhythmic in its motion.

Intrigued by the bright green streak in the boy's hair, the scarecrow tentatively reached out a straw finger, seeking to gently stroke the vibrant lock and understand its softness for himself. But as his finger made contact, he felt a peculiar sensation—almost as if the wind itself responded to this child. The breeze, which had been very faint before, began to pick up slightly, swirling around them in soft, playful gusts that sent sensations akin to tingles up the scarecrow's straws.

The scarecrow marveled at this strange connection. He had never seen anything like it before—not in the time he'd been here, or even when he was little more than bits of straw and fabric. His curiosity instantly grew, mingled with an unexpected protectiveness over this young stranger. Who was this child, and why did the wind seem to embrace him?

As the wind whispered and danced, the scarecrow wondered what magic or mystery lay within the boy named Morro. What new adventures awaited now that their fates had intertwined?

A few hours later, as the boy began to stir, his emerald-green eyes fluttered open, swiftly adjusting to the dim light of the early evening. For a moment, confusion clouded his face, but curiosity soon overrode his fear. He found himself staring up in wonder at the silent scarecrow, an inanimate figure that seemed strangely alive in the flickering twilight.

Tentatively, Morro stretched out a small, white-cold hand, and the scarecrow grasped it protectively in his straw fingers. The moment Morro's fleshy fingers made contact with the scarecrow's rough ones, the two felt a bizarre surge of inexplicably supernatural energy flood their veins and seep deep into their very cores, their true inner selves.

In that instant, Morro realized strangely instinctively that he could communicate with the scarecrow through thought. It was a new and remarkable sensation, unlike any he'd ever felt before. Tentatively, he reached out with his mind, whispering his thoughts in the scarecrow's direction. Who...who are you? he wondered, not entirely sure how to frame his question.

To his surprise, he felt a warm, gentle presence respond. I am a scarecrow, just doing my duty here in the fields. But I have never seen a human child like you before. You fell from the sky, didn't you?

Morro nodded slightly, still dazed from his unexpected flight and landing. He focused on the scarecrow, and an idea formed in his mind. I'll call you Raven, he decided, sensing a kindred spirit in the scarecrow's watchful presence.

Raven. The name suited the scarecrow, who nodded in acknowledgment. And…who are you? Raven wondered. Where did you come from? Why are you here?

I…Morro's thoughts faltered for a moment, as he scrunched his brow and puckered his lips, quite visibly fighting to fish for an answer before he murmured mentally, I don't know. I don't know who I am. I think I'm named Morro, but I've been an orphan…all my life…I think. Tears began to well up silently in his eyes, and Raven immediately pulled the sobbing, sniffling boy into his strong straw arms. The brown-haired boy with the mesmerizing emerald-green hair streak buried his head in Raven's straw-stuffed chest and murmured tearfully in his mind, Th-thank you, Raven. Thank you.

Don't worry, Morro. Raven thought back, his arms tightening protectively around the lost, melancholy wind-child. I'll watch over you from now on. Nothing can ever tear us apart. Nothing.

Over time, Raven took on the role of a guardian for young Morro. He did his best to shield the boy from the cold nights, wrapping his straw arms around him to provide warmth. When Morro decided to explore the fields, climbing trees and running through the underbrush, Raven watched over him with a protective eye. More than once, he reached out to catch the boy from a fall, his straw limbs surprisingly gentle and supportive.

Raven also became a teacher. Through their unique bond, he guided Morro, showing him the difference between the plants that were safe to eat and those that were poisonous. Together, they wandered the fields, learning and discovering. Raven would point out edible berries and herbs, cautioning Morro against the deadly nightshade and other dangerous flora.

Morro grew to trust Raven completely. Despite the scarecrow's eerie, inanimate appearance, he had become both a friend and mentor. Raven, in turn, found a new purpose beyond scaring away birds. He had found a sense of fulfillment and joy in watching over and teaching Morro.

Their bond was strong, and as they faced each new day, they did so with a sense of companionship and understanding that neither had known before.

One quiet evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of gold and pink again, Raven gazed at the distant birds once more. The same question that had lingered in his mind for so long resurfaced. With Morro resting by his side, he decided it was time to voice his thoughts.

Why do the birds not want to be my friends? Raven wondered, reaching out to Morro through their shared bond. I have tried to show them kindness, but they stay away, fearful and distant. What am I doing wrong?

Morro, sensing the deep sadness in Raven's question, paused to think. He had grown fond of the scarecrow and couldn't bear to see him so troubled. He looked contemplatively up at the sky, where the birds continued to fly freely, and pondered the answer thoughtfully, scrunching his brow and squinting in sheer concentration as he did so.

With an intuitive understanding of the birds' fear and mistrust, Morro didn't need to ponder too long. He instinctively knew why the birds saw Raven the way they did. He hesitantly approached Raven, who looked somber and puzzled as Morro thought sadly at him, Raven, to the birds, scarecrows seem monstrous, despicable, and cruel. They're afraid of you because they don't understand you. They believe you just want to hurt them when all they're doing is trying to eat, and to feed their little ones with the seeds of the field you guard.

Raven's straw face showed a hint of distress. But-but…he thought desperately, his limbs trembling as he mentally stammered, but I would never scare them away! I only want to be their friend.

Morro nodded in understanding, his eyes reflecting empathy as he replied, I know, Raven. I know you wouldn't. But others might.

Raven processed Morro's words, feeling both the sadness of being misunderstood and the warmth of having someone who truly believed in him. Morro, seeing the sadness of being rejected written all over Raven's face, spread his little arms wide for a hug—which the trembling, shaking Raven gladly accepted. It was indeed good to know that there was at least one being who could see past the outside to find out the golden truth inside.

One crisp late autumn day, Morro, who had only recently fallen out of the sky a few months earlier, wandered through the forest. Still new to his surroundings, he had been exploring cautiously, with Raven—his ever-watchful scarecrow guardian—by his side. Though he felt a sense of security with Raven, the memories of his past were fragmented and filled with uncertainty.

As the day wore on, Morro began to feel oddly unwell. A strange dizziness washed over him, and his steps grew unsteady. Determined to press on, he ventured into a part of the forest he had never seen before, unaware of the dangers that lay ahead.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the trees, Morro stumbled upon a large, vibrant pumpkin patch. The sight of the pumpkins, with their bright orange hues and sprawling vines, filled him with wonder. He had never seen anything like it and couldn't resist the urge to explore further. A small black kitten, with its sleek fur and bright green eyes, was also exploring the pumpkin patch. The kitten, which Morro affectionately named Luna, seemed drawn to the boy.

As night fell, the full moon rose high in the sky, casting an eerie, silvery glow over the landscape. The light of the full moon had an odd effect on Morro. It seemed to control him, making him feel docile and submissive. The whispers of slumber from the moonlight wrapped around him, lulling him into a dazed, almost dreamlike state.

Unbeknownst to Morro, a small brush fire had started nearby, likely ignited by the dry conditions and the soft rustle of leaves. The fire, though small at first, began to spread quickly, the flames licking at the edges of the pumpkin patch.

Morro, disoriented and weakened by his illness, wandered aimlessly through the pumpkin patch, the moon's influence dulling his senses. The whispers of the moon urged him to lie down and sleep, and Morro found himself collapsing onto the soft earth, his eyelids heavy. Luna, sensing the danger, meowed loudly and darted away from the approaching flames, seeking safety.

Raven, standing vigilant at his post in a distant part of the forest, sensed Morro's muted, wolfishly whimpering distress through their bond. A sharp pang of fear gripped him, and he knew he had to act quickly. As he began to move towards the pumpkin patch, Raven spotted Luna fleeing from the fire, her frightened cries adding urgency to his mission.

Raven scooped up the kitten, her tiny body trembling in his straw arms. As he held Luna close, he felt Morro's worsening condition through their connection. Guided by this bond, Raven hurried towards the pumpkin patch, his limbs moving with a newfound urgency.

As Raven approached the pumpkin patch, he saw the flickering flames and smelled the acrid smoke. His heart ached at the sight of Morro lying helplessly amidst the fire, seemingly entranced by the moonlight. Without hesitation, Raven plunged into the inferno, his determination unwavering.

Using his straw limbs, Raven beat back the flames with all his might, creating a path to reach Morro. He scooped the boy up in his arms, his straw creaking with the effort. The flames bit at his legs, but Raven ignored the pain, focusing solely on getting Morro to safety.

With Morro cradled in his arms and Luna nestled securely against his chest, Raven navigated through the burning patch, the full moon's light guiding their way. He moved with remarkable speed and precision, driven by the bond that connected them. The heat was intense, and the smoke choked the air, but Raven persevered.

Finally, Raven burst through the edge of the fire and into the safety of the forest. He laid Morro down on a soft bed of leaves, using his long wool scarf to shield the boy from the cool night air. Morro's breaths were shallow, his fever still raging, but the moon's influence was already beginning to wane, dying away entirely within moments as Morro's thin, frail frame sagged limply downward into the crackling, crunching leaves of the forest floor.

Raven knelt beside Morro, his straw fingers brushing gently against the boy's forehead. You're safe now, Morro. he thought, his mental whispers drifting soothingly into the boy's tired, weary mind as a small smile quirked at the edge of Morro's lips. Rest and let the fever break. I'll watch over you while you sleep.

Luna, sensing the gravity of the moment, curled up beside Morro, her soft purring adding to the comforting presence of Raven as Morro slept and dreamed his paralyzing illness away.

As the night wore on, the fire in the pumpkin patch slowly burned out, leaving behind charred vines and scorched earth. The full moon continued to cast its silvery glow, a silent witness to the unbreakable bond between Morro and Raven. By morning, Morro's fever had begun to lessen, and he stirred, opening his eyes to the sight of Raven watching over him. Though weak, he managed yet another small smile, grateful for the scarecrow's unwavering protection.

With time, Morro's strength returned, and the memory of the pumpkin patch and the fire faded into a distant dream. The bond between him and Raven grew even stronger, forged in the crucible of adversity and the light of the full moon, with Luna as a new cherished member of their little family.

One month later

Morro had grown incredibly fond of Luna, the black kitten that had become a cherished part of his and Raven's little family. Luna's playful antics and soft purring brought joy and comfort to Morro, especially during times when his memories felt like fleeting shadows.

One sunny afternoon, as Morro and Luna played in a meadow near their hiding place, a sudden rustling in the bushes caught Luna's attention. Her curious nature took over, and before Morro could react, she darted into the underbrush.

Luna, wait! Morro called out through thought-speak, his mind filled with worry. He chased after her, pushing frantically through the dense foliage. But despite his frenzy and worry, he began to feel his very heart of hearts sink all the way to his toes as Luna, quick and agile, slipped further into the forest, her black fur blending with the shadows of the midafternoon shade.

Countless hours passed as Morro searched tirelessly for Luna. He called her name over and over in his mind, his thoughts growing more desperate with every breath. And as the sun began to set, casting long, eerie shadows, Morro's hope began to wane entirely away. Exhausted and heartbroken, he stumbled back to their hiding place where Raven awaited him.

Raven immediately sensed Morro's distress. Morro, what happened? he thought, his straw limbs reaching out to comfort the boy. Where's Luna?

Luna... she's gone, Morro thought, tears streaming down his face as he buried his cold, reddened face in Raven's straw. I tried to find her, but she disappeared. I couldn't save her, no matter how hard I tried.

Raven knelt down, embracing Morro with his gentle, straw arms as he gently rocked the boy back and forth on his knobby wooden legs. I'm so sorry, Morro. Luna was a special friend. We'll keep searching for her, I promise. But though he tried to stay strong for Morro's sake, deep down, he feared that it might already be too late—and the moment Morro sensed Raven's doubt, his remaining resolve broke completely. With not a speck of hope for Luna's return left, Morro sobbed uncontrollably into Raven's chest, his grief overwhelming him as he thought desperately, It's my fault. I should have watched her more closely. Now she's gone, and I couldn't do anything to stop it.

Raven held Morro tightly, his own heart aching at the boy's pain. You did your best, Morro. Sometimes things happen that we can't control. We'll just have to keep hoping that Luna finds her way back to us.

Morro nodded, though his heart was heavy with sorrow. Then he looked up at Raven, his eyes filled with determination as he thought, I promise you, Raven, that I'll never leave you. I lost Luna—I couldn't bear to lose you too.

Raven's straw fingers gently brushed away Morro's tears. And I will always be here for you too, Morro. Our bond is unbreakable and strong, and nothing will change that. Not now—not ever.

As night slowly fell, Morro curled up sleepily beside Raven, feeling the familiar comfort of his protective embrace. The stars twinkled overhead, a silent reminder that even in the darkest times, there was always a glimmer of hope.

Though Luna was still missing, Morro found solace in his promise to never leave Raven. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, their bond unbreakable and their hearts intertwined.

One month later

A fierce blizzard swept across the land, bringing with it a bone-chilling cold that seemed to pierce the very soul, penetrating into the deepest depths of the core and twisting taut like a dagger of corrupted ice. The once vibrant forest was now cloaked in a thick blanket of snow, the howling winds creating swirling white vortices that obscured everything from view.

Raven, ever vigilant, stood at his post, his straw limbs unaffected by the biting cold. But his thoughts were consumed with worry for Morro, who had been exploring the forest when the storm hit. The child, having discovered his wind-powers just days before, had ventured out, eager to harness the wind and explore the hidden corners of their world. But now, as the blizzard raged incessantly with no sign of letting up anytime soon, Raven's heart filled with an inexplicable sense of ultimate, petrifying dread. Where in the world could Morro be?

Morro, where are you? Raven thought, his mind reaching out in desperation. You need to come back!

When there was no answer, Raven thought even more desperately, Morro, where are you?! Can you hear me?! Answer me, please!

Through the howling wind, a faint response reached him, dim and dusky and bleak with an unexplainable weakness. Raven...Morro's lilting, lisping thought-speak pleaded, help...me…

Raven's eyes widened with alarm as he heard the plaintive cry. He knew he had to find Morro, and quickly. Guided by their bond, he plunged headlong into the blizzard without another thought, his movements swift and purposeful as he ran. The snow whipped around him, but he pressed on, driven by a fierce determination to save his one and only friend.

After what felt like an eternity, Raven spotted a small figure huddled against a tree. It was Morro, his skin pale, his lips blue from the cold and howling wind. His body trembled uncontrollably, and his breaths were shallow and labored as he struggled to sit up, falling limply backwards into the snow a few heart-stilling moments later. Raven's heart clenched at the sight, realizing just how dire Morro's condition was becoming.

Morro! Raven thought, rushing to his side, on his knees in moments. I'm here. Hang on, we're going to get you warm.

Morro's eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused. Raven…I'm…so cold...he thought weakly, his thoughts barely coherent as his glassy eyes stared deeply into Raven's own beady button eyes.

Without a moment to lose, Raven gently lifted Morro, cradling him tightly in his straw arms, his face crumpling in sheer, raw fear. He could feel the icy chill radiating from the boy's body, a stark contrast to the warmth he desperately needed. Morro's skin was cold to the touch, and his shivering had grown weaker, a dangerous sign that the cold was taking a severe toll on him.

Stay with me, Morro, Raven thought, his mind filled with urgency. Come on! We need to get you somewhere warm and dry.

Using his straw limbs to shield Morro from the biting wind, Raven made his way through the storm, his movements guided by a fierce determination. He knew he had to find shelter, a place where he could warm Morro and protect him from the deadly cold.

As they trudged through the snow, Morro's condition worsened. His eyelids grew heavy, and his shivering became more violent. His skin, paradoxically, began to feel sweltering to the touch, a sign that his body was struggling to regulate its temperature. Before Raven could reach safety, Morro's body went limp, and he fell into unconsciousness.

Morro! No, stay with me! Raven thought desperately, his heart pounding with fear. We're almost there! Just hang on!

With renewed urgency, Raven pushed forward, carrying Morro through the blizzard as lightly as a lily on the water. After what felt like hours of battling the relentless storm, he spotted a small, abandoned cabin nestled among the trees. It was a simple structure, but it offered the promise of warmth and safety. He quickly carried Morro inside, laying him down on a makeshift bed of straw and blankets within moments.

Raven searched the cabin, finding an old, rusted stove and a small pile of firewood. With swift, deliberate movements, he lit a fire, the flames crackling to life and casting a warm glow over the room.

It's going to be okay, Morro, Raven thought, his voice filled with reassurance. We'll get you warm, and you'll be fine.

He carefully removed Morro's wet clothing, replacing them with dry blankets he found in the cabin. He wrapped the boy tightly, trying to trap as much warmth as possible. Morro's breathing was shallow, his eyelids fluttering butterfly-fast as he struggled to stay conscious.

Raven... so tired...Morro thought weakly, his voice barely a whisper in Raven's mind.

I know, Morro, Raven thought, his heart aching with worry. But you need to stay awake. Talk to me. Tell me about the wind.

Morro's eyes opened slightly, his mind sluggish as he thought-spoke, The wind... it's wild... like me...

Yes, like you, Raven thought, his voice gentle as he sensed Morro's awareness slowly ebbing back into him. And you control it. You're strong, Morro. You just need to stay with me a little longer.

As the fire crackled and the warmth began to seep into Morro's body, Raven watched over him with unwavering vigilance. He knew that the battle against the cold was not yet won, but he would do everything in his power to help his friend recover.

Hours passed, and slowly, color began to return to Morro's cheeks. His shivering grew stronger, a sign that his body was fighting back against the cold. Raven stayed by his side, his thoughts a constant source of comfort and encouragement.

You're doing great, Morro, Raven thought, his voice filled with pride. You're going to be okay.

Morro managed a small, grateful smile, feeling his strength slowly returning. Thank you, Raven... for everything.

Always, Morro, Raven thought, his heart filled with relief and determination intertwining. I'll always be here for you. Always.

As the storm raged on outside, the bond between Morro and Raven grew even stronger, forged in the crucible of adversity. Together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead, their friendship a beacon of hope and resilience in the face of the harshest trials.

But it wasn't long after that something dreadful happened. Something that no one, not even Raven and Morro, could have ever been prepared for. And when it did happen, neither one could have had the slightest inkling of the turmoil and tragedy the trial would bring.

One chilly night, Raven mysteriously vanished from the field. Morro, upon waking, instantly discovered his absence, feeling an overwhelming sense of panic and loss welling up in his heart. He searched the field frantically, calling out through their bond, but there was no response. The silence was frigidly deafening, and the stillness all but heart-numbing.

Morro's heart pounded in his chest, the cold air biting at his skin as he ran through the familiar rows of crops, now shrouded in darkness. The moon cast an eerie glow over the field, sending sinister shadows dancing ominously among the cornstalks. Every rustle and whisper of the wind only seemed to mock his desperation.

Raven! Morro's thoughts screamed, his mental voice breaking with fear. He could feel the bond they shared, usually so resilient and reassuring, now stretched thin, muted and numb and fragile. It was as if a part of him had been torn away, leaving nothing but an aching void in its place. He stumbled over roots and uneven ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he ran. The cold seemed to seep into his very bones, amplifying his sense of isolation and dread. The night felt endless, each moment without a response from Raven deepening Morro's despair.

As he reached the edge of the field, Morro paused, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of his friend. The silence was oppressive, pressing down on him like a tangible weight. He clenched his fists, trying to focus, to sense any flicker of Raven's presence.

But the night remained quiet, offering no comfort or clues. Morro's mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. Raven, where are you? he thought-whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and determination.

After hours of fruitless searching, Morro collapsed to his knees in the middle of the field, exhaustion and fear overwhelming him. He couldn't accept that Raven was gone, but without any sign or connection, hope began to wane.

In the quiet of the night, Morro vowed to keep searching, to never give up on finding Raven. The bond they shared, though weakened, was still a flicker of hope. He would continue to call out, to reach through the darkness, until he could bring his friend back. And then he rolled onto his side, tears welling up in his eyes, and softly cried himself to sleep.

As the hours passed and the sun began to rise, Morro's worry deepened. With no sign of Raven, Morro was eventually found by the villagers, who had come to work in the fields. Seeing the distraught child, they rushed to his side, bombarding him with questions and marveling at his torn, tattered, dirt-smudged clothing, tousled brown hair, and incomprehensible emerald-green hair streak flying helter-skelter and willy-nilly in the midmorning breeze.

"What happened? Why are you out here alone?" they asked, their voices a blur of concern and curiosity. Morro just stared at them, his eyes wide and still filled with crystalline tears of melancholy and woe. He tried to speak, but the words somehow wouldn't come. He had been relying on thought-speak for so long that he had almost forgotten how to use his voice. The villagers' questions echoed around him, but he could only respond with silence, his lips twitching and quivering without sound. Frustrated and helpless, Morro could only think of one thing: finding Raven. The bond they had shared was now a painful, empty nothingness, and he felt hopelessly lost without his scarecrow friend by his side.

As the concerned villagers gently took both his hands and tried to usher Morro away from the field, their intentions well-meaning but misguided, he felt a surge of desperation welling up deep inside him. He couldn't leave, not now. The thought of abandoning Raven, lost and alone, was absolutely unbearable.

Without a single, solitary word, Morro broke free from the villagers' grasp and ran. He sprinted across the field, his heart pounding in his chest, driven by the fierce determination to find his scarecrow friend. The villagers called after him, but their voices faded as he put more distance between them.

Morro darted through the familiar landscape, his mind racing with memories of Raven. He navigated the fields, the trees, the paths they'd explored together, hoping against hope that he would find some trace of his missing guardian. But as Morro pressed on through the fields under the blazing sun, the heat became unbearable. Raven had warned him against the dangers of pushing himself too hard in the blazing sun and scorching heat of the midday—but he kept moving. He had to keep going! For Raven…for Raven…

Gradually, his vision blurred, and his steps grew unsteady. He stumbled and fell more than once, pushing himself to keep moving despite the growing dizziness and weakness. His clothes clung to him, soaked in sweat, and his breathing became frightfully shallow and rapid. Every breath seemed to sear his lungs and leave him weaker than before…but he couldn't give up! He couldn't! If he could just—

Finally, unable to continue, Morro collapsed all but senseless onto the ground. His body was drenched in sweat, and his skin felt hot to the touch. His heartbeat was fast and irregular, and he struggled to stay conscious as his grip on awareness grew frail and fragile, like a fraying thread about to break.

At that moment, a gentle breeze stirred wistfully around him, whimpering and howling in dismay as its wielder slipped into a restless semiconsciousness, the heat of the day beating down mirthlessly and mercilessly on Morro's unprotected head. Raven, sensing his young friend's distress, hurriedly appeared. He found Morro lying on the ground, his face flushed and his eyes half-closed. Raven's worry intensified as he observed the boy's labored breathing and the all-too-clarion signs of heat exhaustion at its deadliest peak.

Oh, no, Morro! Raven thought, his concern evident. He carefully lifted Morro, trying to shield him from the relentless sun. Raven's straw limbs provided a bit of shade, and he was quick to rush Morro to a shady tree, kneeling down and cradling the young wind-child close to him, fanning Morro with a sense of urgency, hoping to cool him down and steady his pounding, clanging heartbeat and strained, frenzied nerves.

Hold on, Morro. You'll be okay. I'll protect you, no matter what, Raven reassured him through their bond, determined to help his friend recover. But just as Raven was tending to Morro, the farmer who had crafted Raven stumbled upon the scene. His eyes widened with alarm at the sight of his scarecrow, seemingly alive, tenderly holding the unconscious boy in his straw arms.

"Dark powers must be at work," the farmer muttered, fear and suspicion clouding his mind like a numbing white mist. He approached cautiously, wary of the strange bond between the scarecrow and the child.

Morro lay in Raven's embrace, held in a deep, dreamless slumber, his breathing now more steady but still weak. The farmer hesitated, unsure of what to make of the situation, but his instincts screamed at him to take the poor, helpless boy away from this unnatural sight.

When Morro finally stirred and opened his eyes, he was too weak to protest or run. The farmer bent down and gently tried to lift him, intending to take the boy back to the village.

"We must get you away from here," the farmer said, his voice a mix of concern and determination. Morro, still groggy and disoriented, looked back at Raven, his eyes pleading for help. Raven, Morro pleaded through thought-speak, don't let him take me! Please! Don't leave me!

Raven, though unable to physically stop the farmer, sent a wave of reassurance to Morro through their thought-speak bond. Stay strong, Morro. We'll find a way through this.

The farmer, convinced he was doing what was best, began to carry Morro away from the field. Little did he realize that the bond between Morro and Raven, forged through friendship and adversity, would not be so easily broken.

As the farmer carried Morro away, the distance between the wind-child and Raven grew. The connection that had brought them so much comfort and understanding started to fade away, falling from Morro's mental grasp like water ebbing between his thin, bony fingers. Morro, feeling the bond slipping away more and more by the moment, began to wheeze and sob uncontrollably.

Each step away from Raven made it harder for Morro to breathe, as if the very air around him was growing thinner by the second. His heart ached with the loss of his friend and protector. The once calming thought-speak was now replaced with an overwhelming sense of loneliness and desperation.

The farmer, hearing Morro's distress, paused and looked down at the boy in his arms. He was clearly distressed, his face wet with tears and his breaths coming in labored gasps.

"What's wrong, child?" the farmer asked, his concern genuine but his understanding limited. "Whatever it is, I can help. But first, we need to get you to safety."

But for Morro, safety was with Raven. He needed to be with his friend, the only one who truly understood him. The separation felt like a part of him was being torn away, leaving him weak and heartbroken and forlorn.

The farmer tried to comfort Morro, but the boy's sobs simply grew louder, his chest heaving arrhythmically with each breath. Just then, a flock of birds swooped down, creating a cacophony of chirps and flapping wings. They encircled the farmer and Morro, sensing the boy's anguish. The farmer halted, bewildered by the sudden avian commotion.

One of the birds, braver than the rest, landed near Morro and chirped insistently. Morro, through sheer will, managed to lift his head and extend a trembling hand toward the bird. The bird's eyes met his, and in that moment, the connection between the boy and the birds became clear.

The farmer watched in amazement as the birds' presence seemed to calm Morro. He hesitated, realizing that perhaps there was more to this bond than he understood. Feeling the resolve of the feathered friends, he carefully set Morro down on the soft grass, once again underneath a shady tree. The birds perched around them protectively, creating an invisible barrier between the boy and any potential harm.

With a deep breath, Morro felt some of his strength return, just enough to sit up and look toward the field where his friend awaited. The birds' support gave him a sense of hope, though he was still so tired and weak that he could hardly keep his eyes open.

As Morro succumbed to exhaustion, he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep, surrounded by the protective birds. The gentle breeze seemed to carry whispers of comfort as he drifted off, his worries momentarily forgotten.

In the quiet of the night, Raven returned, drawn back to his friend by the invisible thread of their bond. He approached Morro cautiously, relieved to find him safe, though still weak and resting. The birds parted slightly, allowing Raven to sit beside Morro and keep watch over him.

But the farmer, witnessing the reunion, was filled with fear and suspicion. Convinced that dark powers were still at play, he resolved to destroy Raven once and for all. He resolved to gather wood and kindling, determined to burn Raven alive and rid the field of what he believed to be a malevolent force.

Raven, sensing the farmer's intentions, realized the danger. The farmer intended to take Morro back to the village, but his ultimate goal was to burn Raven in the old, abandoned windmill. Raven knew he had to act quickly to protect his young friend.

Morro, still weak but determined, began to sense Raven's alarm through their bond. He pieced together the farmer's plan and knew he couldn't let it happen. Summoning all his remaining strength, Morro rose to his feet and glanced at Raven with resolve in his eyes.

Without a moment's hesitation, Morro reached out and grabbed Raven. The scarecrow's straw limbs rustled in the gentle breeze, but Raven remained stoic and supportive. Despite his own fatigue, Morro lifted Raven and started to run, his heart pounding with urgency.

The farmer, taken aback by the boy's sudden burst of energy, shouted after him, but Morro didn't stop. He knew he had to get far away from the windmill and the imminent danger. The birds, sensing the peril, took to the skies and flew alongside Morro, creating a protective barrier.

Morro pushed through the pain and weariness, each step fueled by the unbreakable bond he shared with Raven. They ran through the fields, past the trees, and into the safety of the forest. The shadows of the towering trees provided a sanctuary, and the rustling leaves whispered promises of safety.

As they reached a secluded clearing, Morro finally collapsed, still holding Raven tightly. The birds landed around them, their chirps filling the air with a sense of calm and protection. The bond between Morro and Raven remained strong, and they both knew they had escaped the immediate threat.

In the days that passed, the forest became their refuge, a place where they could recover and plan their next move. The farmer, unable to track them through the dense woods, returned to the village, confused and wary but unable to pursue them further.

In the heart of the forest, Morro and Raven found solace. The birds continued to keep watch, and the wind, ever their ally, whispered through the trees, carrying the promise of new beginnings and enduring friendship.

In the tranquility of the ancient forest, Morro and Raven thrived, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. The birds continued to keep watch, and the forest provided them with ample food and shelter. However, curiosity and a sense of adventure were ever-present in Morro's heart.

One day, while exploring the deeper parts of the forest, Morro wandered further than he had ever gone before. The trees grew denser, and the path became unfamiliar. Lost in his thoughts and fascinated by the new sights, Morro didn't notice the passage of time or the distance he had traveled.

As the sun began to set, a group of villagers, who had been searching for the boy since his last escape, stumbled upon him. Recognizing the child, they called out to him and approached cautiously. This time, they were determined not to let him slip away.

"Child, what are you doing out here alone?" one of them asked, his voice filled with concern. When Morro, once again, did not speak, the villagers made their move.

Morro, startled and tired from his journey, tried to resist, but the villagers were insistent. Despite his protests and efforts to break free, they managed to surround him and gently, but firmly, escorted him back to the village. Morro's thoughts raced with worry for Raven, who was left behind in the forest.

Raven, help me! he cried out through their bond, but the distance made the connection faint and uncertain.

As they reached the village, the villagers took Morro to the elder's home, where they hoped to find answers and help for the boy. Morro's heart ached, not just from the separation from Raven, but from the fear of what the villagers might do next.

In the end, the villagers, led by the elder, determined that Morro was in danger from the scarecrow. Despite Morro's protests and pleas, they believed that burning the scarecrow to ashes was the only way to protect him and their village.

Before deciding on this drastic measure, the elder took Morro into his home to examine him closely. The elder, a wise and cautious man, needed to be certain of the scarecrow's threat. He sat Morro down and began a thorough examination, starting by checking his chest, feeling for any irregularities in his breathing and heartbeat.

"Relax, child," the elder said gently. "We need to understand what has happened to you."

Though nervous, Morro complied. The elder's hands, though aged, were steady and kind as they moved over his chest and arms. He then asked Morro to open his mouth, inspecting his teeth for any signs of illness or malnutrition. Despite Morro's silent demeanor, the elder noticed his health was remarkably good for someone who had been living in the wild.

"Your health is quite strong, considering the circumstances," the elder mused, his brow furrowed in thought. "But why do you not speak?"

Morro, unable to articulate the thought-speak he used with Raven, felt a surge of frustration. But then he suddenly remembered he could write and gestured for something to write with. The elder handed him a piece of parchment and a quill, watching curiously as Morro began to write.

I can talk through thoughts with Raven, Morro scribbled quickly. It's called thought-speak, and Raven and I both depend on it. Raven is not a danger. He is my friend and protector.

The elder read the message, his face a mixture of confusion and concern. "Thought-speak?" he murmured, not understanding. "This bond you describe—it is unnatural. The same forces that brought the scarecrow to life must be influencing you."

Despite Morro's attempts to explain, the villagers remained skeptical and fearful. The elder, believing he was acting in Morro's best interest, ordered that Morro be kept in a shed while they proceeded with their plan to burn the scarecrow in the old, abandoned windmill.

Overcome with grief and frustration, Morro cried himself to sleep in the dark confines of the shed. His dreams were filled with images of Raven, their adventures, and the bond they shared. Even in his sleep, he called out to his scarecrow friend, his heart aching with worry.

Unaware of the villagers' plans and the trap set for him, Raven felt Morro's distress through their bond. He couldn't ignore his friend's pain and knew he had to find him. The night was dark and quiet as Raven made his way towards the village, his straw limbs rustling softly in the breeze.

Raven approached the village cautiously, searching for any sign of Morro. He followed the faint trail of their bond, determined to rescue his young friend. As he drew closer to the shed, he could hear Morro's quiet sobs and felt a renewed sense of urgency.

I'm here, Morro, Raven thought, hoping to reassure him. He gently opened the shed door and found Morro huddled in a corner, his face streaked with tears. Morro's eyes widened with relief and fear as he saw Raven.

Raven, it's a trap! Morro thought urgently. The villagers... they plan to burn you!

Raven's heart sank at the realization, but he remained calm for Morro's sake, if not for his own. We have to get out of here, Morro. he thought-murmured as he approached his young wind-charge. We'll find a way. I won't let you go that easily.

But just as Raven helped Morro to his feet, the villagers, who had been waiting in hiding, sprang into action. They surrounded the shed, blocking any chance of escape.

"Grab the scarecrow!" the elder commanded, and the villagers moved in, determined to carry out their plan. Morro clung to Raven protectively, wrapping his arms tightly around the scarecrow's straw limbs. His eyes filled with desperation, and his grip was unyielding.

No! Morro thought fiercely, broadcasting his distress through their bond, forgetting that the villagers couldn't hear his thoughts. You can't take him!

The villagers, seeing Morro's determination and distress, hesitated. They exchanged worried glances, unsure of how to proceed without causing the boy further pain. The elder, understanding that they needed to act quickly but gently, stepped forward with a vial of a natural sedative. "I'm sorry, child," he said softly, looking into Morro's fearful eyes. "This is for your own good."

Morro's eyes widened with fear as he saw the elder approach with the vial. His thoughts became frantic, pleading with Raven. Please, don't let them take you! I can't bear to be alone again!

Raven, unable to move but still communicating through their bond, tried to soothe the crying Morro. Stay strong, Morro. We'll find a way.

Morro clung even tighter to Raven, refusing to let go. No, please…he begged through his thoughts, don't go! Don't leave me, Raven! Don't leave me!

The villagers, determined to protect Morro and themselves, gently restrained him. The elder carefully cupped Morro's chin in one hand and lifted it up slightly before administering the sedative. Morro felt a warm liquid with the coolness and purity of moonlight and a mountain spring trickle softly down his throat, and his grip on Raven began to loosen as the effects of the calming essence took hold. His eyelids grew heavy, and his thoughts turned from desperate pleas into soft whimpers. As he was about to be pulled away, Raven extended a hand to signal "wait" and then just barely managed to give Morro his long wool scarf. The scarecrow gently wrapped it around the boy's neck, ensuring Morro had something to remember him by.

Raven...Morro's thoughts whispered, fading like shadows in the midnight sky as he succumbed to the sedative. Don't leave me...

Raven, blatantly unable to prevent what was happening, felt his heart break at the sight of his friend being taken away. He reached out through their bond, sending waves of comfort and reassurance. I won't leave you, Morro. Stay strong, and stay bold. Remember who you are…always.

As Morro drifted into a deep, gripping unconsciousness, the villagers gently pulled him away from Raven. The scarecrow, now separated from the boy he had sworn to protect, watched helplessly as the villagers carried Morro to a comfortable room in the elder's home—just before Raven himself was escorted away to the old windmill.

Morro slept fitfully, his dreams haunted by the thought of Raven being harmed. The elder's daughter, Luna, a compassionate fifteen-year-old, entered the room and saw the boy's distress. Wanting to comfort him, she gently took him in her arms and held him close as he sleepily began to murmur something over and over again. At first, Luna couldn't tell what it was. But as Luna cradled Morro, the wind-child's soft murmurs gradually grew louder and more insistent."Ayúdame. Es mi amigo. Lo necesito. Es mi amigo."

Help me. He's my friend. I need him. He's my friend.

Luna's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't heard Morro speak before, and the pain in his voice tugged at her heart. His distress spiked, and the wind outside the house began to respond to his cries, picking up in intensity and swirling around the village.

The wind's eerie howling filled the night, and Luna realized that Morro's bond with the scarecrow was powerful and profound. She sensed that harming Raven could have dire consequences for Morro, whether physically or emotionally.

Outside, Raven felt Morro's escalating distress through their bond. The scarecrow's heart ached as he sensed the boy's suffering. Just as the villagers were about to set the old windmill ablaze, the wind picked up, swirling and gusting fiercely around the structure.

The villagers hesitated, feeling the unnatural wind whipping around them. The fire they had ignited began to rage, the flames dancing wildly in the powerful gusts. Raven, sensing the urgency, tried to send waves of calm and reassurance to Morro through their bond. Hold on, Morro. I'm here with you.

Morro's cries slowly grew louder, echoing through the night as the wind continued to rage. Luna, holding Morro close, felt a surge of determination. She knew she had to act quickly to save both the boy and his scarecrow friend.

With Morro's distress manifesting in the wind, the entire village was on edge. Luna's resolve hardened. She had to find a way to make the villagers understand the depth of Morro and Raven's connection before it was too late.

As the moments trickled past, Morro's sobs became louder and more desperate as his distress spiked. The wind outside the house howled with increasing intensity, responding to his anguish. Luna, holding Morro close, felt the boy's pain deeply as the poor, sleep-enslaved wind-child began to thrash and writhe weakly in the girl's tender grasp. His muscles twitched, his fingers twinged, and his whole frame began to convulse and tremble wildly as his face grew moonstone-pale, his cheeks flushing with despair and melancholy helplessness alike. His breathing was growing shallow, as he wheezed and whimpered, murmuring those frantic words over and over again—"¡Ayúdame! ¡Es mi amigo! ¡Lo necesito! ¡Es mi amigo!"

As the wails and sobs grew to their loudest yet, the elder entered the room, his craggy, weathered face etched with great distress and concern. Seeing Morro's agitation, he immediately believed the boy was fighting the effects of the sedative.

"He's struggling against the sedative," the elder said, his voice firm. "We need to give him more to keep him calm."

Luna looked up at her father, her eyes welling with tears as she felt her heart breaking for Morro. "No, Father!" she protested. "Can't you see? It's not just the sedative. He's in distress because of the scarecrow. Hurting the scarecrow will hurt him!"

The elder, taken aback by his daughter's urgency, hesitated. "But Luna, we have to protect him." he insisted. "The scarecrow is a danger—to him and to all of us."

Suddenly, Morro's cries once pierced the air, echoing mournfully through the house as he howled,"¡Ayúdame! ¡Es mi amigo! ¡Lo necesito! ¡Es mi amigo!"

Luna tightened her grip on Morro, her eyes pleading with her father. "Please, Father, listen to him! He's bonded with the scarecrow. They are one! If we destroy it, we could destroy him too, whether physically or emotionally."

The wind outside continued to rage, rattling the windows and doors furiously, sensing Morro's pain and crying with him in his suffering. The elder, torn between his duty to protect and his daughter's heartfelt plea, looked at Morro's anguished face—and his own face began to soften as he, for the first time, truly began to realize the depth of the connection between the boy and the scarecrow.

Just then, Morro's cries grew even louder, his voice filled with raw emotion. The wind responded, whipping through the village with a fierce urgency. As the villagers outside the house began to panic, Luna's words echoed in the elder's mind, making him question his previous convictions.

As Morro's wails reached a fever pitch, the wind outside howled and shrieked in tandem with his distress. The elder, torn between his duty and Luna's heartfelt plea, began to falter in his resolve. Just then, Morro's eyes snapped wide open. Though he was dazed by the sedative, a fierce determination burned in his gaze.

With a sudden burst of energy, Morro pulled out of Luna's embrace, scrambled to his feet, and pushed away from Luna. Luna tried to hold him back, but to no avail. "Morro, wait!" she cried, but he was already racing towards the door, with not a single fear for his own safety holding him back. The elder and Luna watched in shock as Morro bolted out of the room and into the raging wind. He ran and he ran and he ran, running as fast as his legs could carry him—into the field and towards the windmill at lightning-speed. He didn't care what would happen to him—he didn't care if he was killed by the fire too—he was going to save Raven, no matter the cost.

The villagers in the field, preparing to burn the scarecrow, were taken aback by the boy's sudden appearance. "Stop him!" the elder shouted as he came charging after Morro, with Luna hot on his heels. "He's out of his mind!"

But Morro was already running towards the old windmill, the flames beginning to lick at its wooden structure. Raven, sensing Morro's approach and the danger he was in, reached out through their bond. Morro, no—it's too dangerous!

But Morro's determination was unwavering. He shook his fears away, knowing that no matter what happened to him, he simply had to save his friend. With a great burst of speed, he plunged headlong into the windmill, ignoring the flames and the intense heat as he rushed to save Raven from certain doom. The villagers, realizing the peril, rushed to stop him, but it was too late.

Morro reached Raven, his hands trembling as he tried to pull the scarecrow free from the burning kindling. The heat was overwhelming, and the flames roared around them. But despite his best efforts, Morro, weakened by the lingering effects of the sedative, couldn't lift Raven's heavy straw limbs.

Hold on, Raven, Morro thought desperately, his strength waning. The fire's intensity grew, and the smoke began to choke him. Morro coughed and sputtered, feeling a wave of unnatural dizziness washing over him as he struggled to pull Raven out. Their bond was howling, shrieking, screaming like a banshee in the peril of their shared plight. But Morro wouldn't give up! Raven needed to be rescued—and rescued now!

In his final effort, Morro wrapped Raven's long wool scarf back around Raven's neck, fumbled to tie the end of it around his arm, and tried to drag him out. But the flames were unforgiving and merciless. Before he could make it to the door, Morro stumbled, his vision blurring as the heat and smoke overcame him. He collapsed amidst the flames, unconscious, his grip on Raven's scarf loosening.

The villagers, seeing the boy's peril, rushed into the inferno. With great effort, they pulled Morro from the burning windmill, carrying him to safety. Raven, too, was dragged out, singed but intact. But deep down, Raven knew that it was too late. The deed had been done, and the flames has shown no mercy. Raven was barely clinging to life as it was, and Morro…Morro was so badly injured, it was a miracle he was alive at all.

As Morro lay on the ground, barely conscious, coughing his head off as he struggled to suck in great gasps of pure air, Raven's final thoughts echoed through their bond. Don't forget me, Morro.

With a final breath, Raven succumbed to the finality of dreamless slumber and crumbled to dust in a heartbeat. In that moment, Raven's ashes began to seep into Morro's skin, and a strange transformation occurred. Morro's brown hair turned black in an instant, a visible sign of the bond that had been forged between them, through friendship, care, and trials.

Moments later, Luna and the elder arrived at the sight, their faces pale with fear and worry. Morro lay unconscious, badly injured from the fire but still breathing—but Raven was nowhere to be seen. And yet… a change was happening. As the transformation continued, the villagers' attitudes towards the former scarecrow began to shift as they saw the boy's bravery and the depth of his connection with Raven. They had been joined by the cords of brotherly love—and their bond could truly never be broken, not even in death.

Luna knelt beside Morro, tears streaming down her face. She saw his hair, now black as night, and understood the profound impact Raven had on him. And as the villagers helped to carry the slumbering child back to the safety of the village, the elder, too, began to realize that the bond between Morro and the scarecrow was something more than anyone could have possibly imagined.

Morro remained asleep for a full week, his body and mind struggling to recover from the severe burns and the immense stress he had endured. His skin, still bearing the marks of the fire, slowly began to heal under the care of the villagers who now saw him in a different light. The transformation of his hair from brown to black stood as a testament to the sacrifice and bond he shared with Raven.

Luna stayed by Morro's side the entire time, her heart aching for the brave boy who had risked everything for his friend. She made sure he was comfortable, tending to his wounds with gentle hands and whispering words of encouragement even though he could not hear them.

The villagers, once fearful and skeptical, now looked upon Morro with respect and awe. They realized the depth of his courage and the extraordinary bond he shared with the scarecrow. Conversations around the village began to shift from suspicion to admiration, and the elders began to question their previous actions.

Throughout the week, the wind blew gently through the village, carrying whispers of comfort and hope. Raven's presence was felt in the rustling leaves and the soft breeze that seemed to watch over Morro as he slept. Luna noticed this and felt reassured, knowing that Raven's spirit was still connected to Morro in some way.

On the seventh day, as the sun began to set, Morro stirred for the first time. His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked against the soft light filtering through the window. Luna, who had been dozing in a chair beside him, instantly woke up and leaned forward, her eyes filled with relief and joy.

"Morro, you're awake!" she exclaimed softly, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of his now-black hair away from his face.

Morro's eyes, still dazed, slowly focused on Luna. He could feel the bond with Raven pulsing faintly within him, a source of strength and comfort. Though weak, he managed a small smile, grateful for the presence of someone who cared.

Luna smiled back, tears glistening in her eyes. "You're safe now. We'll make sure of it. I promise you—you will never be alone again."

As Morro began his long journey of recovery, the villagers continued to support him, their hearts changed by the bravery and love they had witnessed. The bond between Morro and Raven had not been broken, and it served as a reminder to the village of the power of friendship and sacrifice.

But then, one quiet afternoon, while Luna and Morro were sitting by the window, a gentle breeze rustled through the village, carrying a familiar presence. Morro felt a sudden surge of energy and connection through their bond. He turned to Luna, his eyes wide with realization.

"Raven..." he whispered wistfully, his voice breaking the silence. Luna looked at him in astonishment. It was the first time she had heard him speak since the fire.

"What is it, Morro?" she asked, her heart pounding with hope. Could it be…?

"Raven…is coming back," Morro said, his voice gaining strength. "I can feel it."

Outside at the sight of the burned windmill, the villagers gathered, watching in awe as the wind seemed to dance around the fields. Slowly, the scattered remnants of Raven's straw and ashes began to gather, pulled together by the invisible threads of their bond.

Before their eyes, the pieces began to reassemble, forming the shape of the scarecrow they had come to respect and fear. The process was slow and delicate, as if the very essence of Raven was being woven back together by the wind.

Morro and Luna ran outside, joining the villagers as they watched the miraculous restoration. When the last piece fell into place, Raven stood tall once more, his presence as gentle and protective as ever.

Tears streamed down Morro's face as he stepped forward, his voice trembling with emotion as he cried out, "Raven!" He then rushed towards his friend, wrapping him in a tight yet tender hug, whispering tearfully, "You're back! You're alive! You're back!"

Raven looked at Morro and returned the hug, the bond between them stronger than ever. I never left you, Morro. he thought, understanding Morro completely, though now Morro used words instead of thoughts.

As the villagers watched in awe, they finally understood the true power of the bond between Morro and Raven. It was a connection that transcended the ordinary, forged in friendship and sacrifice.

Morro's voice, now restored along with Raven, had now become a symbol of hope and unity for the village. Through the hours that followed, as they witnessed firsthand the deepness of the bond that had held Morro and Raven together through thick and thin, they slowly began to learn to embrace the extraordinary and to cherish the bonds that made them stronger.

As the sun set on the village, casting a warm glow over everything, Raven turned to Morro with a gentle yet resolute expression.

Morro, it's time for me to return to the field, he said, his voice through thought-speak full of compassion.

Morro's eyes filled with tears, his heart aching at the thought of being separated from his dear friend. But I don't want you to go, Raven, he thought back, returning to the familiar comfort of thought-speak. I need you.

Raven knelt down, once again wrapping his straw arms around Morro in a tender embrace. Our bond will never be broken, Morro, he reassured the heartsick wind-child. I will always be with you, in your heart and in the whispers of the wind.

Morro still clung to Raven, his tears soaking into the scarecrow's straw. Please don't leave me...he pleaded, feeling his old fears welling up in him again.

Raven held Morro tightly, his own heart heavy with the weight of parting. This isn't goodbye, my friend. It's just another beginning.

As the moments slowly passed, Morro's tears eventually gave way to exhaustion. He fell asleep in Raven's arms, the warmth and comfort of their embrace soothing his troubled heart. As he slept, Raven gently lifted him and carried him to a nearby meadow, laying him down in the soft grass.

The birds, sensing the bond between Morro and Raven, began to draw near. They perched around them, their gentle chirps creating a soothing melody. The wind rustled the leaves and carried the sound of their song, enveloping the pair in a cocoon of peace.

Raven looked down at Morro, his heart filled with love and pride. Rest well, my dear friend, he thought one last time. I'll always be watching over you. We are bonded, and we are one. Nothing can change that—not now, not ever.

As the night deepened, Raven returned to his post in the field, standing tall and vigilant. The birds, now unafraid, settled around him, and the once lonely scarecrow found himself finally surrounded by the warmth of friendship and the enduring bond he shared with Morro.

Morro, cradled by the soothing sounds of nature, slept peacefully, knowing that his friend was never truly far away.

As the days turned into weeks and months, Morro's memories of the events that transpired began to slowly fade. The details of the fiery night, the village's fear, and the miraculous restoration of Raven blurred with time. Yet, through it all, the bond he shared with Raven remained unwavering and etched deep within his heart.

Every so often, Morro would find himself standing at the edge of the field, feeling the gentle breeze that carried whispers of Raven's presence. Though the vivid memories dulled, the essence of their connection never wavered.

Luna remained a steadfast friend, often reminding Morro of the extraordinary journey they had witnessed together. She knew that while the specifics might fade, the impact of Raven on Morro's life would forever be a part of him.

In quiet moments, Morro would look up at the sky, feeling the rustle of the wind and the soft chirps of the birds. He knew that Raven's spirit was always near, watching over him. The scarf, now a cherished keepsake, was a constant reminder of the sacrifice and love that had bound them.

Though the passage of time could not erase the memories completely, it was the bond with Raven that stood the test of time. Morro understood that true friendship and love transcended the boundaries of memory, living on in the quiet strength of his heart and the gentle whispers of the wind.

Even as the details of their adventure became distant, the warmth and comfort of their bond remained a guiding light, assuring Morro that he would never truly be alone.

And neither would Raven.

For bonds forged through friendship and peril are never truly broken.

Not now, and not ever.