For @Reyes!
It was the middle of the night and it was cold. But Cottongrass quickly found that he didn't care about either of those things. Because the sky was lighting up in shades of green and red, dancing across the night sky and shining down upon the snow. It was sort of like the world was alive. The kind of alive that was tangible and fun and exciting, going beyond growing plants and running water. Cottongrass found that it was one of the few best things to happen to him ever since everyone seemed to have upped and left him behind.
And with nothing else left to do in the middle of the night besides shiver, he found himself following the lights through forest and hill alike. In some places the lights were a teasing flicker shining down between reaching branches. In other places the sky lights shined down in full force, washing clearings into bright colours that Cottongrass wanted to reach out and touch. But every time he reached out to grab at the light, they moved out of reach. Every time he found himself chasing after the bright hues of the aurora borealis. Until finally, it led him to the place where the mountainous ridges and thick forests waned. Where the ground down into the open tundra with sparse trees littering the border.
It was there he stood, watching the lights of the aurora borealis snake across the land. And he was silent, watching the show unfold before him with sparkling eyes and an open-mouth look of awe. His gaping was interrupted when something in the upper branches of the tree next to him shook, drawing his attention to the sound. He didn't see anything. Behind him his tail started to wag, a tentative and alert motion. Because what if it was an owl. He and the owl could be friends! They could look at the sky lights together! Maybe Cottongrass could even convince the bird to come down and play! A smile broke out across his features and he took a step back so he could get a full view of the tree that housed the mysterious creature. The one that he was about 70 percent sure was an owl.
With his head tilted back and eyes closed, Cottongrass let out his very best impression of an owl hooting. It was loud. It was long. It was about as warbled as it could be. And he couldn't be prouder of himself as he stood there before the tree, waiting for some kind of reaction.