The tiny moppet made his way into the pile of aligned oak trees, stepping into the stone craved ground leading deeper into a lively shaded forest. His small feet left stains of mud onto the pavement as he walked by carelessly, skipping a few steps with a wide grin across his face. Having a thought of roaming around with no direction at all and with a lack of guidance from his older brothers, merely shows how much of a kid he is. A melting wind caressed his short, brown, almond hair causing his hazel brown orbs to give out a blur vision of the sights before him. His face was a distinct one among the suburbs children in their loomy village, a rich appearance that clouded one's mind to fill in with desire to migrate into. It's certainly not a place to be upon to but the mere thought of its enchanting beauty causes many to move in. As time passed by like an owl in the forest within the deep, hazy afternoon - the youngster hopped onto what seemed like an enormous rock, nearing the river that gave off its nature scent to diffuse within the nearby passers. He sniffed in the craving smell with a genuine, pure smile across his thin yet plump lips. There was a glimpse on his peripheral vision that made out a figure. It was an unsure state of mind whether or not it was a serious hallucination. But he tilted his head anyway with a squint of his eyes to have a better view of what it must have been that lured him into a bucket of curiousity.

There, a young boy about his age, with his bare back facing him. Something about the moppet's back gave off a rather too electrifying aura. Nobody was in the vicinity but he and the new strange sense of an unknown source of connection that lead to a boy with his hands working on sculpting an arrow with a rock held captive on his grasp tightly, scraping through the wooden piece to portray its figure to a sharper end point.
He glanced from his spine into the blades of his shoulders onto what seemed to be a scarred bruise left behind years ago. It was dark, enigmatic and definitely downright horrifying. His irises bulged out of his sockets when a voice called out for him, causing him to jolt up and twirl around for the source of the sound.

Goosebumps arose, he then digged his nails into his palms as he bit his lower lip. He sure was not terrified. But in fact worried. He never wanted to leave the sight of his brother but the thought of venturing out into the wild had him caught up in the heated moment. And so, he went.

With a second glance back, he met a pair of brown, alluringly admirable irises that held his contact in merely a whole few seconds before the corners of his lips tugged upward into a mischievous smirk of acknowledgment.

Absolutely preposterous to think of associating with such a boy, he turned his back to him and sprinted into the sound of his brother's voice from afar where he - amidst of the journey - tripped, fell and stood up like nothing had happened. Hoping that nobody had witnessed such a mishap. Then again, that's something only a person could hope for as he felt strong, immensely intensed gaze staring right as he ran off into safety.
Little does he know that their meeting was not simply met in the means and adjourns of fate, or a deep coincidental feeling. It was supported by many factors and branches, haunting ignorance and irrelevance from the moppet himself and the manufactured society in their village. The moment he ran off, the wind blew alternatively into a different path, conceiving a lost way, bypassing the little child with the scarred back. An unknown decision have been made through the bottom of the rocks he once passed on.

Arches have been arrowed, perplexed and crossed through the middle of the forest. The start of every changes surrounding their nearby environment. The older brother reached the moppet, observing him with careful means from head to toe, emphasizing a conclusion. The moppet's face was locked with self-awareness thinking about what he should tell to his brother.

Obviously stiff, his brother already knew what he was up to, having the moppet strucked into different kinds of hesitation. But being the worse at hiding something, he scooted his little hands to the edges of his brother's white shirt, making a sympathetic face a cute kid could make in an extent. He pouted his plush lips, adding a bit cuteness on it.

"What happened, young lad?" He asked looking down at the moppet's chiseled face. He wasn't worried nor there's a treasure of caring in his voice, instead he was just intrigued to know the truths from his little brother's own words. They were together for years now and have developed a special boundary and felts within each other. The moppet being brought uphand with his non-biological brothers was not revealed to anyone, nor the little child himself.

"I saw a bird." he gulped, describing what he had seen differently. "But it's wings were broken."

"There's no birds swarming in this forest, especially in this late afternoon with the moon lightly visible up in the sky." His brother told him, in a challenging tone. The brother had this determination to not let the moppet's mind filled of things that are supposed to be hidden. Neither it was his own clumsy mistake to let the moppet roam in the forest, or it was his choice bringing awareness of such creatures to the moppet's mind. "It was close to a bird." the moppet playfully limped towards his brother, trying to convince the relativity between a boy and a bird. His brother only stared at the moppet's eyes and suddenly noticed something.

"Wait for me here,--" with the grip of the little boy's fingers loosen to his brother's hands, there goes his brother who went off to find the creature. The moppet stared at his brother's back, slowly diminishing in every step. He was eager to follow, but was frightened how it was dark already and decided to stay and wait for his brother.
He ran through the scrunching leaves, just to find the anomaly he've been yearning for. It was perfect. His plan worked. Only his little brother could lead the path towards what is insanely unacceptable to their world.

After running for minutes, his movements and motions became gentle, not wanting to be caught in act as he moved to the scene. He moved slowly as he feebled through the branches of an old tree where a certain figure of a boy catched his eyes.
Everything was resplendent through his vision. White and gray feathers flocked the area centimeters away from him, blazing into a bleak fire. The boy's scarred back was not visible anymore, instead presented in his own accord, enormous wings of an angel.
The boy was sitting with his knees on the ground and his hands covering his little face. Solemn as he looked, he wasn't wary to anyone behind him, focusing on its own world,  his source of existence and the sounds of fire blazing and circling up within his body.

His eyes flared up to the sight of those pure,malicious wings. Neither he had a plan in the beginning, but it doesn't matter to him anymore as long the nature already proved the existence he's yearning for. It was enough for his own eyes to see the truth. Truthful enough, his little brother had a clue but he'll let him forget. Somehow. He stood there hypnotized by its peculiar beauty, leaving him to constantly observe the unknown angel without being noticed.