*The Lorax cocks his head to the side as he listens, sitting down on Zelibobaās other side. He eventually lets his gaze shift to the sky, simply listening in silence for awhile before speaking up*
We donāt tend tā see many toys hereā middle oā a forest is a bit out of the way. The animals donāt generally get toys this far out. I remember gettinā a few offerings from children long ago, however. Balls, dollsā¦ they were worth more than the food, certainly. So much magic in the love of a childā¦ *He chuckles and shakes his head* I always gave āem back after blessing them. It just didnāt seem right.
*He finally glances back at Kindar and her great friend* Sure, Iād like tā see.
*Zeliboba straightens up - he even seems to grow up a little more, or is that just the evening and its long shadows? He stretches his arms wide open - now they resemble winds because of the long and wide mantle sleeves. In a few moments the whole valley drowns in thick fog - nothing but the hill all three stand on is seen, only the pink and golden glow.*
HĆ³lāla rĆ³u di a, hĆ³lāla lĆ³u diā¦
*āAll around you, all with youā, - sounds the playground guardianās call, low and soft, rising the invisible waves around - and with this call, faces of hundreds and hundreds of toys start to appear in the fog. Theyāre alive, they sing the same words, responding to him. Brand new and tatty, patched in places teddy bears. Ragdolls with button eyes - ones just off the shelf and others odd-eyed, with eyes lovingly sewn back. Bright-furred plush monsters - the fellow Muppets. Wooden horses - the Lorax can recognize one of them, old, with no tail and his paint almost all chipped off, from the Once-lerās attic. Trusty tin soldiers - been through a lot but brave as ever.*
HĆ³lāla rĆ³u di a, hĆ³lāla lĆ³u diā¦
*The invisible waves cradle both Kindar and the little forest spirit as Zeliboba keeps on calling, more and more voices responding from all ends of the world. Sheer love sounds in these voices, singing the oath each toy gives after being made, and lives up to.
Old, plush and plastic family treasures, passed down the generations. Vintage - mechanical and soft, the ones who now get to see children only in the museum halls, but still donāt love them any less. The figurinesā¦ in fact resembling some of the Higher Ups so closely it may amaze the Lorax. Kiddy-sizedā¦ Almighty the Gods may be, but what if secretly they still wish for a plain hug? Maybe this is why people created these figurines, to show their love to the patrons at least like this?*
HĆ³lāla rĆ³u di a, hĆ³lāla lĆ³u diā¦
*Among all these faces, appear a few familiar ones, orange, fuzzy and with large moustaches. Loraxās likenesses. Probably not looking exactly like him, - but again, how long he didnāt show himself to peopleā¦ It all may seem just a dream, but here they are. Singing along with the others. They too have loving owners - even though some of these owners are too small to show it properly.
Finally, the call starts to fade down - along with the fog.
When everythingās over, Kindar shakes her head - so unusually quiet the valley is. In front of her, thereās a familiar orange spot. Not believing her eyes, she steps up closer to seeā¦ a large plush Lorax laying on the grass. If it hadnāt been for the seams, heād be just like real one. A sudden thought hits her: no one in the choir looked like him. Soā¦ what ifā¦*
Loraxie? *Her voice trembles.* Loraxie, what happened, wake u-
Thatās not him! :D Hereās him!
*Zelibobaās laughter from behind her back returns Kindar to her senses. She turns back and, to her joy, sees the giant spirit pointing at the real living Lorax at his side.* ā¦And thatās not me! Not me who conjuredāim up, I meanā¦Ā *The confused guardian scratches a sideburn, glancing at the plush Lorax, then back at the real one.* I-I swear, I didnāt even see how it happened!
