Midnight sat beneath the Tree of Feelings with a book in his hands. There was nothing else to do but read, watch his brother, Dream, play with the others in the distance, then read again. Repeat, repeat, repeat. There was the occasional bullying, though: a rock or two thrown at him, a few harsh words and insults, all that fun stuff. But that was a lie. In reality, it was worse than that. But he had to keep it together for the sake of Dream.

It was the middle of spring. Not too hot, and not too cold. Just the right temperature. But that didn't matter, now, did it? He couldn't catch the common cold, as that's what humans delt with. But it was uncomfortable to sleep through the rain, and hard to protect his books from it. Today was almost the same as any other day. Midnight held a book in hand, his gaze glued to the printed words. He occasionally glanced up to watch Dream and the others, before warily returning to his reading. He could hear the approaching footsteps in front of him, and his figure tensed. It was probably them again. But upon slowly tilting his skull back, his pinpricks landed on someone else entirely. In fact, it was a single individual. He'd never seen them around, before.

".. Um.. Dream is that way," Midnight points over in the opposite direction, a little to the right. That's the only reason you had to have approached him for, right? Or were you familiar with the weekly 'tradition' his bullies followed? But you didn't move. You didn't walk away, only tilted your head to the side. You didn't step forward with a rock, either.