#cheesam

Purling, clucking, like pearls falling from a necklace with a broken cord and hitting the floor in a ballroom.

Spring was Wellina's favourite season. She had not been able to explore much more than snowdrifts in the past months, and as exiting as Cheesam's usual scavenging places could be, Wellina missed to get away from the forest.

She stood on a rock with closed eyes, her huge, green ears turned towards the sound of water rushing down the river, melting the leftover snow on it's way. Soon, very soon, she would say buy to Cheesam, and he would be sad to see her go, but would not say a word, as he knew that she could not stay here forever. Her ears wanted to hear. Her big, red eyes wanted to see. Her green fur did not want to blend in with the forest surrounding any more.

The sea was her destination this year. She had been in meadows, wilder forests, small villages and close to bigger towns, she'd climbed cliffs and explored caves and dens. But she had yet to see the sea.

She leaped down from the rock and shouted “Hey! Cheesam! See, spring!”

Cheesam came trotting on his short legs, looking a little less than impressed. “Yes. Spring. Soon summer will make the local dumps smell like hell and I will have a hard time getting anything with flies swarming around it off my hands.”

Wellina turned her head and slapped him gently in the face with her ear. “Grumpy old hag you are. Now you will get rid of all those snowdrifts you have been complaining about the last many months.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Wellina's striped friend walked up to her side and looked over the brooklet, where the water was running in a light stream, eating the frozen snow, slowly, but steady, like a caterpillar eating a leaf, only to leave behind rocks and dirt and tree roots.

“You don't want to come with me this year?” Wellina asked quietly.

Cheesam looked away. It lasted a while before he answered.

“I am not … made for that kind of life, Wel. My eyes are small, and my ears block out most sound anyway,” he brushed away the long, floppy, striped thing on the side of his head. The ear quickly fell back in place.

“I am going to miss you,” she said.

“Bring me back some pretty seashells, will you?”

Wellina made a small, hard 'ha!'

“You will just sell them all anyway.”

“That's better than leaving them at the beach, eh?” he laughed, and she bit his tail, and he leaped onto her back, and they tumbled down in the ice-cold stream of water.

Rolling around and yelling, they quickly came back up, ears and paws soaking wet, shivering from the cold water, yet laughing with joy.

“That was your fault!” she shouted at him.