“Mum! It's time for my bedtime story. Come, come!”
The mother strolled into her child's bedroom with a book under her arm. The cover was decorated with a beautifully drawn forest in bloom, green leaves speckling most of both the front- and backside. Golden beams of sun shone through an opening in the middle of it all, focusing on a creature much like a spring faun with silvery white locks, two stiff and two curled black horns, and a tan body decorated in tattoos looking like symbols old as time.
“Once upon a time, a long, long time ago...”

Happily chirping birds sat on the tip of the thick branch, rousing Silvain from his sleep. A windy weather is approaching and Silvain has work to do.
As a tree tamer, he is in charge of making the trees dance along with the thrusts of the wind. What – you did not think trees moved because of the wind, did you? Oh, no, no. This is a job assigned to four fauns, all four managing each their season. Silvain is in charge of spring and has thus an appearance displaying his time of year: the soft, white hair, like the snow melting away. His tan skin, like the tree trunks gaining life. And his green eyes like the leaves starting to grow on the trees he lives alongside with.
Silvain stretches and jumps from his branch onto the ground, a loud thud sounding from his hooves meeting the ground. He stands momentarily, listening for the wind. He then cheerfully glides deeper into the forest, grasping his pan flute.
“Good day, ladies. Time to do the best concert we've ever done! Ready yourselves!”
Silvain jumps in the air, kicks his hooves together by the heels, and immediately starts blowing into his flute. First, a long, low note, followed by an equally long, slightly higher note. Then, suddenly, the show starts and he prances through the entirety of the forest, and the trees follow their melodious instructions, waving their vastly naked tops along with Silvain's tunes.

“Another day of work well done,” says Silvain satisfied, placing his flute back around his neck. He sighs and looks at the darkening sky and the clouds starting to enlarge. Perhaps he will have a night shift as well – he does not mind those, though. He loves the smell of the fresh air and how wild and intense his and the trees' dance always end up being.

Silvain, tamer of the trees, climbs back onto his branch and quickly falls asleep, dreaming of his maker, Mother Earth, and the little fairies flying about, their luminous aura replacing the cloud covered starry sky.

art

Fullbody by User not found: patonki
Fullbody by Andrea