Dethroned

One

   

So here we are in the water realm. He ultimately fell in love with the place, not to mention his branch neighbor, a squirrel that had a fabulous skill of collecting nuts. Its mind, heart, visions, and lifestyle were all nuts. Man, it loved nuts. Not that he was an animal guy, which made him adhere to it, but for the sack that it was the only friendly mammal around. The only problem he had with it was that it kept on stealing his crumbs from him.

“Morning Mr. squirrel. let me guess, you’re up for nuts,” he gasped, but of course, no one responded.

He kept on blubbering when he swayed down on his hover-lift to the surface. The place was prettily modernized, and that made it easier for him when it comes to hard chores. He, of course, made some few improvements, but the rest was spectacular.

He bumped to the surface, paced a few inches, and then grabbed a nicely crafted wooden water jar. It was about eight to ten liters of its capacity, and well, it precisely suited his potential as he moved with it around the few square yards of his domain.
The giant termite was still there, attached to the grass. Coming through with a rhythmical wobble, kicking the termite into the stream, fetched a full jar of water, swerved around, walked towards the field dispensing his carriage and started singing with nothing weighing or floating on top of his mind. Yes, he just murdered an innocent termite. That was its fate.

Finely, it was rather somewhat an enjoyable duty but not the adventure kind of an enjoyable life feature. He stared and wished upon the watery wall, which concealed him from the outside world. One of the worst wishes was the one in which you spend much of the time being chased by enemies trying to end your life.

Quite a few horses sharply neighed after being studded on their backs for them to increase agility, speed, and nail their iron hooves onto the bushy surface.  It sprinkled his ears as if it was a very loud call. It was out of his exclosure. By some means, he heard it as if from somewhere closer. He had no idea what that was. Three men blipped into his realm, rolled across the field, while he watched, and they fell into the mud pit. So dirty, they were.

Kalmar froze for a moment, stared with a little bit of enthusiasm, then slightly moved his head and eyes at the same moment and opened his mouth. He then held it, tried to look aware, moved a few paces forward, and there, he stopped. It turns out they were not all men as it appeared at the first encounter. There was a girl amongst them. He noticed, and she looked different from the others. Her skin was a way smoother and a bit slender in stature.

She asked, “Who are you?” she wrinkled her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes.

“Strange,” he subjectively hissed.

“So, you’re Strange?” She stammered.

“No! you’re strange,” he responded.

“Sure, I’m Linaa by the way…...and your name?”  she asked.

He gasped, “I’m……wait. I remember Kalmar.”

“He is dump,” chuckled Tina. 

“Oh, because you know him right,” she scuffled.

“I would say strange, that’s all I know. And it’s good not to waste time with this little fizzle who seems to remember his name.” he uttered.  “Don’t you think, Walter?” he sounded so impulsive and intimidating.

Walter rose up from the mud, rolled his eyes as he examined himself, and quickly made his survey. He was fully convinced, beautiful it was.
  
He lastly spoken out, “such a nice place it is, but we can’t stay here, and if we do, the wardens will be here soon. I say we move.”