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Description
   The sun glistened through the eaves, giving the ground a soft glow. The trees swayed lihgtly in the wind, flowing thorugh his hair. He spotted a puddle, the surface a fiery red. A puzzled look crossed his face as he stared at his own complexion. " Who are you?" He asked.
   Several minutes passed by with no answer forthcoming. Sighing deeply, he stood up and trudged along through the thick brush. He began humming a tune. His voice, deep and melodic, echoed throughout the glistening forest.
   A flutter startled him, and he spun around reflexively. Three small violet birds, frightened by the loud song, had flown to a nearby tree. A grin from ear to ear developed, his boyish face shining brightly. With a goodbye wave to the little birds he continued his trek.
   The trees were sparse, lessening as he went as he went foward. He knew he almost there. A short time later, he came upon the clearing. He huffed and puffed, but dug his heels and marched along. Scrambling, he nearly fell down the steep edge. He grabbed the last stone, and hoisted himself on top of the cliff. He sat on the edge, and watched the sun. The sun was slowly dipping, closer and closer to him. It did this very often, and he had yet to figure out why.
   He waited, and waited, and soon his brow furrowed. The firey gold it cast had not yet changed. The next colour, soft rose set against lavender, never began. He stood up, flailing his arms. As he had hoped, the sun turned to him.
   " What is wrong?" He questioned with concern riddling the low pitch.
It did not reply, but merely shone happily. Content, he closed his eyes and knew no more.

Description
   The sun glistened through the eaves, giving the ground a soft glow. The trees swayed lihgtly in the wind, flowing thorugh his hair. He spotted a puddle, the surface a fiery red. A puzzled look crossed his face as he stared at his own complexion. " Who are you?" He asked.
   Several minutes passed by with no answer forthcoming. Sighing deeply, he stood up and trudged along through the thick brush. He began humming a tune. His voice, deep and melodic, echoed throughout the glistening forest.
   A flutter startled him, and he spun around reflexively. Three small violet birds, frightened by the loud song, had flown to a nearby tree. A grin from ear to ear developed, his boyish face shining brightly. With a goodbye wave to the little birds he continued his trek.
   The trees were sparse, lessening as he went as he went foward. He knew he almost there. A short time later, he came upon the clearing. He huffed and puffed, but dug his heels and marched along. Scrambling, he nearly fell down the steep edge. He grabbed the last stone, and hoisted himself on top of the cliff. He sat on the edge, and watched the sun. The sun was slowly dipping, closer and closer to him. It did this very often, and he had yet to figure out why.
   He waited, and waited, and soon his brow furrowed. The firey gold it cast had not yet changed. The next colour, soft rose set against lavender, never began. He stood up, flailing his arms. As he had hoped, the sun turned to him.
   " What is wrong?" He questioned with concern riddling the low pitch.
It did not reply, but merely shone happily. Content, he closed his eyes and knew no more.