Submission (#8112) Approved

Silveil shimmered like a dream. Glowing petals drifted from the trees like sleepy fireflies, and mushrooms the size of pillows pulsed gently beneath moss-covered roots. Lantern blooms curled open with a faint hum, glowing in pale gold and indigo, lighting the soft forest floor. Beneath this dreamy blanket, the air buzzed not just with insects; but with excitement.

“Harun, Harun!! Look - LOOK at this one!!” came a delighted squeal, followed by the frantic rustling of undergrowth and the unmistakable sound of a jar lid popping open.

The adult barely had time to turn before Jirai came tumbling out of the bushes, covered in glowing fern fluff and practically vibrating with glee. In his tiny paws, the beige kittom held up a small round jar where a critter that looked like a butterfly crossed with a jellyfish blinked softly in violet hues.

“Isn’t it amazing?! It hums when it moves! Like vrrr-vrrr-” Jirai mimicked the sound with his mouth, puffing his cheeks and shaking the jar gently before quickly stopping. “Oops…sorry, little guy! I’ll put you down soon, I swear!”

Harun gave him a patient smile, his long brown hair catching the glow of a hanging starblossom overhead. He had put it up in a big bun, secured with lots of flowery hairclips. “You’re doing wonderfully,” he said softly, crouching beside Jirai to inspect the creature. “Very gentle with your grip this time.”

“This time,” Jirai echoed with a mock gasp. “You mean last time wasn’t gentle?”

Harun raised an eyebrow.

“…Okay, I might have hugged the fuzzy moth too hard. But in my defense, it was shaped like a plushie!” the kittom whined.

“Fuzzy doesn’t mean huggable,” came a new voice; smooth, melodic and tinged with amusement.

Both of them turned toward the sound and spotted a swirl of green and violet stepping from behind a tree. Foxglove moved like mist, all elegance and mystery, their multicolored mane trailing with twinkling dust that faded into the night air; remnants of the glowing pollen from the flowerfield nearby that they had walked through. Around their neck hung several small glass orbs, each filled with softly glowing bugs of their own.

Jirai’s mouth dropped open. “WHOA. Where did you get that necklace?? You look like a potion exploded on a rainbow.”

Foxglove chuckled lightly. “A fair observation. I’ve been called worse.” They held up a crystalline container shaped like a teardrop. Inside fluttered a bug with translucent wings and a glowing tail that flickered between shades of cyan and rose gold.

“That one looks like a wish,” Harun murmured.

“Mm. They call it a Whimfly,” Foxglove explained. “They only glow when someone around them is hopeful.”

Jirai blinked, glancing at his own jar again. “Wait… is mine glowing more now too? I’m very hopeful. Like. In general.”

“You’re always hopeful,” Harun said gently, brushing a fern off Jirais head.

“And you're always too calm,” Jirai huffed, but nuzzled into the touch.

Foxglove watched them quietly for a beat, their expression unreadable but not unfriendly. “I take it you’re part of my study crew? You must be Harun and Jirai.”

Jirai stood proudly. “That’s us! We’re here to help record cool glowy bugs, sketch them, and not smush anyone in the process.”

Foxglove smiled faintly. “A noble cause. Come, there’s a grove of glowspore beetles near the pond. I can show you where. If you catch one, they sparkle like tiny constellations.”

“YESSS!” Jirai was already scrambling up onto Haruns back, using his longer frame as transport. “TO THE STARS, HARUN!”

“Hold on,” Harun chuckled, rising with a patient sigh and adjusting his balance. “Try not to drop your jar on the way.”

[...]

The three elnins wandered deeper into the glowing woods, where vines glimmered like veins of starlight and tiny firefly bugs danced around them, constantly following them like a trail of small planets.

Jirai scampered off now and then to chase after skittering leggies or odd humming things with colorful wings. Harun kept a slow and steady pace behind him, ready with a net or a calming word. Foxglove observed them with mild interest, sometimes offering subtle tips, other times simply watching in silence.

By the time they reached the pond, Jirai was already ankle-deep in the glowing shallows, his tail puffed out with excitement.

“THERE!” he shouted. “I see them! They’re so sparkly!! Like little walking stars!”

Harun knelt at the bank with their journal, sketching and noting the bug patterns, while Foxglove conjured a bubble orb to gently trap one of the beetles without touching it. They lowered the bubble into a small dish so the bug could rest without being stressed.

“You’re very good with them,” Harun remarked, watching their process.

Foxglove tilted their head. “I study them. I respect them. They’re small, but they’re not insignificant. Same could be said of your kittom, no?”

Harun followed their gaze to where Jirai was now making friends with a particularly shy glowspore beetle, crouched low and whispering encouragement like he was coaxing a scared kittom from a tree.

“…He’s more powerful than he realizes,” Harun said after a pause.

“I see that.” Foxglove gave a small smile. “And you, perhaps, are more courageous than you realize.”

[...]

As the night deepened and the jars and bowls filled with documented critters, the trio finally began their journey back toward the central lantern field - where other elnins were already comparing their finds and cheering over each others captures. The warm glow of Silveils endless night forest surrounded them and Jirai was practically vibrating again with the thrill of it all.

“We’re totally gonna win the Coolest Critter award, right?” he asked, bouncing beside Harun.

“We weren’t competing,” Harun reminded him.

“Well I was.”

“You say that about everything.”

“Because I always am!” Jirai declared. “And I caught a sparkle-bug and made friends with a constellation beetle and didn’t even fall in the pond once!”

“…That is impressive,” Harun admitted, amused.

Foxglove said nothing, but gently offered the Whimflys container to Jirai.

The kittom stared. “Wait. For me??”

“A gift,” Foxglove said simply. “It seems to like your energy.”

Jirai looked at Harun with wide, round eyes, then back at Foxglove. “I’m gonna cry. I’m literally gonna cry glitter.”

“Don’t. You’ll confuse the fire moths,” Harun chuckled.

Foxglove just smiled and turned toward the glow-lit tents in the distance. “Come along. Let’s release these little buggers before the lanterns fade.”

Jirai looked down at his new companion as it glowed gently in its jar, casting soft golden light on his beige fur.

“Best. Night. Ever.”

Harun only nodded, his heart warm despite the cool Silveil breeze, as glowing bugs danced around their heads like a dream that refused to end.