It was the most beautiful morning for Mia as the fiery star in the sky heated her body so gladly. It had been raining every night for a week, and every morning was usually greeted by thick blankets of fog that made it tough to see just mere feet ahead of you. It made things extra hard for Mia, and her tiny frame. She was barely a centimeter tall, with long blonde hair, and perfect bangs that draped just below her eyebrows. During these foggy days, and rainy nights, it would almost be impossible to see her bubbly energy as she usually loved to spend all day near pools of water, and smelling the lavender scents of her favorite purple flowers that would loom tall over her childhood home. Every time she would find those familiar blossoms, it would caress and cradle her in memories. The young kids she would play with, all her size. Everyone she knew was her size. Unfortunately her memories would stop there. She cannot remember the man or woman who she would call parents, nor anyone who might have taught her the lessons she knows now. She struggles, but finds ways to access the knowledge she gained of the large winged chirpers who would feast on the wigglys that would rise up from the soil, and how many have been the victims of mistaken identity. Indeed she remembers about the buzzers who creep around the molding decomposing slush and bodies of larger mammals, and their perverted acquisitions on anything they find. She takes a deep breath. If this was another foggy day, she would brood on these thoughts, but today right now, she sits comfortably by a puddle. A puddle that sprawls out like a large glistening lake. Closing her eyes, and humming to the tunes in her head. Chirping echo high above, catching her attention like a wiggly in a chirper's eye. But there is nothing. Though she reacted the way she had, she knew when to run. When to notice the shadow that grew in size. But there was no shadow. Only sounds. Her delicate fingers run through long blonde hair, sitting naked at the edge of the water. Her eyes skim the surface, peering on the large pebbles that sit comfortably beneath the liquid barrier.
It sees her in eight octagon sized shapes. If it could lick its lips in hunger for her supple breasts instead of poure thick concentrate from it’s long furry trunk that dangles weightly below two large bulbous eyes, it would. It’s optical perversion moves sporadically along every soft curve. Stationed on a large rock below her sits a round glass dome, atop a shiny blue leather one piece. Tall white boots rest against a compact silver jetpack - and below that, a small silver pistol, looking like a smooth connection between cylinders, and spheres. The buzzer’s head twists and turns judging it’s next move. It scopes back for the girl excitedly only to find nothing. Maybe too far to the left, or maybe back to the right. Rapidly searching for it’s catch, and like an afterthought, gazes over the missing blue outfit, helmet, and pistol. Moving past the huge green and brown leaves that hid it so well from sight, it searches. Smelling the charged heat of silver, it pulls back only to see a familiar blue one piece.
BAM! The buzzer’s chest bursts with white and red solution barely reaching Mia’s helmet. Popping an eye brow, she squints and lunges with panther-like agility making the leap behind it. Plastic sounds of wings breaking familiarize her nerves, keeping her breathing still and calm. The small framed girl manages to clench both hands around its neck squeezing as tight as she can. One good twist and the body hits the ground, minus it’s bobbly companion with a slimy thud. She tosses the head where it only goes so far.
Mia ignites her jetpack thrusters, and sores high above a grassy knoll where a large cabin watches over. She smiles at the chirpers that might mistake her for food if they paid attention. Her eyes are bright with the brutal truth of beautiful nature.
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