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by Awn
Rated: E · Short Story · Home/Garden · #2275366
Writing exercise - Awn tending to his farm and summoning the Bucketeers to assist him.
Awn stared outside, the lapiz blue sky devoid of impurity sans the great sunstone that everflowed in its seas. Such a sight was unatural to him, as Wales was home to less blooming weather. For a brief moment, the humourous thought that he had awoken in spain fluttered in his brain. Not at all was it true, but nevertheless he chuckled at the mental suggestion. Cup of tea in hand, the human took a swig of that hot brew before leaving the doorframe he had been within. Stepping into dry, rough dirt as the sun beat upon his head.

This human, Awn Plushpaw, is a curious fellow. Staring down the farm with peridot eyes in search for misfit creatures attempting to consume his hard work. The country-brewed stood with his pale-skinned hand streaking through the blond hair that fitted his shape, Awn's straw hat tilting upwards from the intrusive mass. Awn was relatively short for his age, being a mere 4'11 at 25 was sure to get him quite bothered about the trials and tribulations apple trees and height-based work provides. And yet, he is a simple human. Besides, "what self-respecting enby would get mad at such things?" Awn would think. Not minutes before screaming at a random apple for being too high.

His name, one may be confused, is not as odd as one may think. For you see, this man is married happily. The groom being a tall, anthropromorphic dragon. Who follows the incredibly unique name of Dragon Softpaw. I am sure you, a self-respecting reader, can understand a statistical fact about the fluffy dragon-wolf hybrid. Where would this massive, draconic and loving assistance be by chance? Oh, taking their 80+ children for a walk.
Don't question it.

Nevertheless, the human trudged towards the fields with casual determination. Today, strawberries have been ripened. As seen by the sea of red and green waves that Awn proudly gazed upon. Wiping face with sweat, Awn grabbed a strawberry, twisting it and giving a light tug. The strawberry came off with ease, its crimson form glistening in the midwales sun. Awn gave a smile at his produce, before putting the aggregate fruit to his lips and indulging. A taste test, literally, bearing fruit. As the flavour sent waves of enjoyment to his brain and Awn let out an audible sound of enjoyment from the berry.

Indeed, the time to pick is now. Waving a hand to the ground, an orange glow began to fester in the dirt. Slowly, the earth malformed and gave way to a jet black hole with a blue rim. It was almost like a rip through reality, the near endless void where no light could escape that just manifested beside a plant. Lifting his hand up, Awn pulled out a small entity from the depths. The creature was a simplistic version of him, a two-dimentional replication with a tiny bucket-style tophat. More and more flowed from the hall, all of their stagnent, bright smiles staring at Awn.

"Hey, Bucketeers!" announced the farmer, the creatures gathering around him. "Would you mind picking all these stawberries with me? The kids aren't around to help y'see."

The bucketeers did not nod. But their armless, dopey forms just began running around the farm. Their arms grew in time of need, as such they would pick up baskets and pull stawberries with furious vigour before dumping them into the woven baskets. With a rush, Awn called for them to be calm, however the Bucketeers would not listen. In response, the small human gave a sigh. "I guess some will be squashed." The thought came contently and in reluctful agreement with life. As he himself began to pick the fruit with his creations.
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