At the Boathouse

At the boathouse, which was just an oversized shed with a cellar used to keep fishing and boating supplies, Finn already had the boat at the dock about half a football field away.

Where the boat was parked all Winter and Spring was still a large patch of flattened Earth.

Langston, still glowing, ran for that patch.

He put his nose close to the dirt and began sniffing... no huffing. As he huffed, colors flowed from his nostrils like they had from the dandelion and the old fox carcass.

Each ray swooped over the ground like a soft cloud of tinted light. The more he sniffed and huffed, the more soft light clouds joined the procession.

Until, at last, Langston's glow dimmed back to normal. But the ground where he spread the light resumed the cloud dance of light.

Langston walked over to Hope's side and pressed his nose against her leg.

"It's beautiful, Langston."

The Genius and The Hound Dog stood and watched the great choreography of light return to the Earth.

Reds met Yellows and Blues and... there.. there it was Purple!

The spectrum came together at last and a soft lavender hush fell over the land.

So quiet and peaceful and... just as the light choreography touched down a great quick firework spark show set off and countless splashes of violet light lifted off into the air through the forest ceiling to commune with the sky.

Hope watched and whispered, "Beautiful."

Langston raised his head to watch and barked three times.

"Langston! Hope? Is that you?" Finn shouted from the other side of the boathouse. "Did you see that!?"

...🐉...