Boolo scrunched his nose.
"But it'll be cold! But okay! Is it sunny?"
"It is! Now go get your coat!" the king smiled, and Boolo rushed towards the stairs, only to look back at him and wait expectantly. "Do you want me to hold your hand?"
"Yeeeeeeeeee. But no. Yeeeeeeeeee. I want to say "but no". It sounds like a tree decoration. A round, red one. I want to eat a tree decoration. And also snow. But snow should be warm. Then it would be better to eat. I was very very bored earlier."
The king nodded, and somehow managed to pick his coat even while Boolo was rushing down the stairs. It was a wonder neither of them fell down.
"Yeee! Booolo! Eee!" Boolo grinned. "Eeeeeeeeeeee!"
Boolo kept running forward with their hands firmly attached until they reached the back-door to the castle. It led to the side opposite to the watch-tower Kuba had appeared into, and carried a great deal of fresh snow.
"IT SNOWWWWWWW! AAAAAAAAAA!" Boolo screamed.
He kept screeching and running around for a while with his little legs sinking deeply into the powdery snow, and his little hat the only thing left visible behind the little snow-mountains. He wasn't hard to find anyway: you could follow his screaming, and his little mittens that flailed from side to side and threw snowballs everywhere.
The king realised that Boolo was wearing full winter-gear, including little snow-pants and big boots, while he was wearing his usual autumn coat. He slowly started to poof out, and his clothes filled up with growing fur until he looked like a pompom.
"Nooo," he laughed. "Oh, dear."
"Lady Kuba also says "oh dear". She said it earlier because she scared me with a story of a cut finger. But it's okay now!" Boolo called, and he started to dance by squatting frenetically.
He then walked towards the king and looked up at him accusingly.
"Meeh!"
"What?" he protested.
Boolo took his hands and wiggled.
"Weeeeeh!" he protested.
"Do you want me to dance?"
"Yee," Boolo nodded.
The king paused. He didn't like to dance, but Boolo didn't care, and kept wiggling around. Eventually, the king had to follow along. A sneeze distracted him, and he turned around, only to see that everyone was at the window and staring at them.
"The king is playing!" someone said.
"I'm going to cry!" someone else added.
"Shut up! He can hear us!" added someone else.
The king, who in fact heard nothing, asked himself if he ought to ask Boolo to bury him in snow.
Then a dozen little children ran through the door and tackled him. To be fair, his reflex had been to laugh and open his arms, which had made them veer away towards him, so it was a little bit his fault.
"Ahh! I'm dead," he grumbled.
"We have to bury him!" said Boolo, and he started to fling some snow in his face.
"Nooo! Nonono!" the king laughed.
Boolo laughed and launched himself at his belly. He landed there and started to paw at him some more. The king decided that he was even more dead now. Then Boolo started to chew on his own mitten.
"No!" he protested, and he stopped. "I need it to be dry."
He started to hum a little song as he made little snow biscuits.
"What are you doing?" the king asked.
"Biscuits. I need to add some… ummmmmmm. Snow. And then water. And then sand. And then sprinkle some sand. And then mweh! I wish I could really eat them. They look delicious."
Kuba, who was still inside on account of a little girl who had decided that it was time to braid her hair, had an idea, but instead of actually doing it, she lost herself in worries. Maybe drowning them in miracles was a terrible idea.
"Yumyumyumyumyum. Snow biscuits," Boolo mumbled. "Yumyumyum. NOOOO! I'M BOREDDDD!"
The king jolted, surprised.
"Eeeeh! I wanna make snow biscuits."
He then resumed making snow biscuits. The king laughed and patted his fat cheek. He decided to mouth-fart it. Boolo laughed and screamed "eeeeeh". He kept playing in the snow for a while.
"I wanna sit on a rock. A big rock!" Boolo exclaimed.
"Do you want to eat the snow biscuits?" the king asked, and Boolo grinned.
"Yes! How many biscuits do you want to buy?"
"Hmm," the king hummed thoughtfully. "What flavors do you sell, my good lad?"
Boolo giggled.
"This one is watermelon. And this one is ice. And this one is glue. And this one is… brown. Brown biscuit."
The king started to laugh at "glue".
"Do you sell rock biscuits, young lad?"
"Yes!" Boolo exclaimed excitedly. "I'll make them right now. Now I'm going to my oven. Pfffff."
Those were the oven noises. He started to make more snow biscuits, and added some bits of gravel on top of them.
"Neeee!" he grinned. "Wait, I need to cook them."
He passed his mittens over the biscuits.
"There we go! Biscuits! Fresh rock biscuits! Do you want the rock biscuits?"
"Yes, please. I would like half of your rock biscuits, please. Here is your money," the king added, and he dropped some powdery snow in his mitten.
Boolo giggled happily, and ate the "money". That just made the king laugh harder. Boolo then very delicately gave him one rock biscuit. The king sniffed it. It actually smelled… nice?? He kept sniffing it. This was definitely flour he was smelling. He decided to eat a bit of it, and suddenly, flavors of rich chocolate and butter exploded in his mind like fireworks.
"What?" he protested, and he took another bite.
"Nooo! Don't really eat it," Boolo fretted.
"Here, try it," the king answered.
Boolo chuckled and nibbled a bit, then frowned. Soon, he had swallowed the biscuit whole.
"THEY'RE REAL BISCUITS!" Boolo yowled. "We need to make more biscuits for everyone!"
He started to scream and eat all his biscuits, and as he yelled out about what flavors they had, all the children gathered around curiously. The watermelon biscuits were full of red paste that tasted sweet and fruity; the ice biscuits were ginger-flavored, with a sweet kind of mint that refreshed your mouth; the glue biscuits were soft butter biscuits that melted on your tongue; and the brown biscuits were molasses-flavored.
"I want to make a turkey!" Sheeno declared.
He got to his knees and started to shape some sort of ball. Kuba laughed, and the little girl who was braiding her hair told her to please stop moving.
"I wanna make a Peebo! But maybe not," Boolo reflected.
Golden Wolf walked over, and hesitantly drew a strawberry patch in the snow. Slowly enough, an emerald green leaf poked out of the icy mattress. Golden Wolf raised his arms to the sky and decided to go back inside, where he sat down and decided that he was completely exasperated about everything. Kuba saw him and grimaced. Conveniently, the little girl was done with the braid, and ran off.
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