Summer Peace

A rare quiet summer day for a vampiric bat.

Green as freshly cut emeralds, the grassy field looks endless. The shade of the old sycamore tree blankets him, protecting his fragile vampiric eyes.  His skin is richly tanned, a dark contrast to the silvery blue hair cloaking his large bat ears.
Spreading his tan wings wide, he leans forward, closing his dark eyes in bliss as the wind passes over his wings. A content smile forms on his face, a foreign expression for him. His sharp features, normally dark with concentration and barely contained annoyance, are light as the wind whistles past his ears.
He opens his eyes slowly, A faraway softening them to a near lavender. Nodding softly, he hears the soft thump of some one small dropping out of the ancient sycamore. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small boy creeping up to him from behind the tree.
Chuckling softly, he raises an arm up, greeting the boy. Not deterred by being spotted, the boy leaps onto him, snuggling close. Amethyst eyes matching his peer up. Youthful mirth glints in the small boy's eyes as his eyes meet his. He nods politely as the small boy chatters about everything he saw that day, elf ears twitching in excitement. A bundl e of pure energy, the boy can't sit still, not even for a minute.
Listening intently, he almost misses the sound of his mate walking up. Almost. Chewing on a pencil end, his ruby red eyes are screwed up in concentration. His attention is focused on the well worn leather bound notebook grasped in his hands, drawing furiously. A small crack is heard as the pencil breaks. Without missing a beat, he slides the now useless pencil  behind his ear and pulls out a new pencil from his breast pocket and continues his intricate scrawling.
Mischief flickers briefly in his eyes. Waiting patiently, he slides out a leg. Like clock work, the elf, too engrossed in his work, doesn't notice the leg in his way until far too late. He trips over the outstretched leg, yelping like a scolded dog. The small boy stops chattering, staring widely. He looks down at the fallen elf, his matching elf ears tilted down in confusion.
Poking at his fallen parent with his muddy boot covered foot, he nods, confident the elf is okay. He resumes his tale without missing a beat. The elf brushes his sky blue shirt off, glaring at the grass stains on the knees of his lavender pants, muttering angrily. Looking at the bat, he stops himself mid sentence, stunned.
Softly smiling, his mate looks...happy. Honestly happy, not just pretending to avoid questions and misguided concern. Anger forgotten, he sits down, listening to his young son as he shares his many tales of adventure. Sneaking glances at his mate, he smiles softly and continues his sketching as the young boy chatters late into the afternoon.

Author's Note

If this turns out to actually be good, I shall write and post more about these folks. If not, then I shall probably pick another something or other to write about.