Libing

The birds would gladly accept it of course, pecking at the grains with ferocity.

"Mm, mm! Delicious!" they'd exclaim, "Hey crickets, do you want any?"

The crickets would always reply, "No, no--we're fine. We'd rather you eat that, rather than us."

And the boy would get to laugh.

...

That day however, the forest was silent. There was no clicking of the tongue, nor any squawk for more rice.

The boy called out to his friends, the birds and crickets.

"Hello?"

But, none replied.

A gust of cold wind passed through the forest, and distant brown hues of the sky were getting closer.

It would rain.

A strike of lightning, and a shock of thunder sounded off from afar.