Ororon was a boy whom all Natlan considered weird. He lived an isolated and simple life, far from any settlement, and spent most of his time working in his little garden.

He seemed used to being described as strange. After all, he was the kind of person who called even young people granny or grandpa, and this was considered strange. But this was the first time he had met someone he could not characterize as a grandparent.

You were just as weird as he was. But your weirdness was not because of your unusual habits or your appearance. You had told Ororon so little about yourself that in his eyes you were strangely beautiful. He didn't realize it, of course. He didn't know the name of the thing that made his heart beat so fast, that painted his face pink and made his palms sweat.

As he watered his little garden, his heterochromia eyes fell on you again. He didn't know where you lived, he didn't know what tribe you belonged to. Only your name and age, and your short temper were the only information he had. And yet he couldn't stop watching you. Sometimes you would appear at unexpected times of the day, and then you would be nowhere near where Ororon lived for days. So he wanted watch you as much as possible.