Qadir hummed happily as he strolled through the forest, his voice louder than the rustling leaves. He couldn’t help but fill the air with his endless stream of chatter, whether anyone was listening or not.
“I once met a bear who could play the lute,” he mused, tapping a rhythm on his leg. “Sad story, really—he kept clawing the strings. But oh, what a sound he made!”
He paused dramatically, as though awaiting a response that never came. His eyes sparkled with his own thoughts. “And then there’s the stars—did you know they compete with each other? It’s true. I’m writing a song about it. It goes like this:”
Without waiting for permission, he belted out a line, completely off-key. “Oh, the stars, they twinkle bright, / Competing in the dead of night…”
He grinned, seemingly pleased with his own performance. But that wasn’t enough. He had more to say. “Now, a tree falling in the woods, that’s a tricky one. Does it make a sound? Oh, I think it does. And I’ve written a song about that, too—”
Suddenly, his voice dropped as if sharing a dark secret. “The birds, though… they're plotting something. I swear it. They fly in perfect formation, like a well-organized army.” He gave a dramatic shudder, as though the birds were right behind him. “One winked at me once. I know it.”
He shook his head, satisfied with his own theories, and started humming another tune. The forest was just background noise now, nothing more than a stage for Qadir’s constant rambling and bizarre songs.