As the warm light of dawn bathed the air of Ruya village, a young boy called Avian was caught in bewilderment. His buffalo had refused to move forward and sat itself still near a well on the outskirts of the village.
It was their usual route to the feeding ground, and the buffalo, named Rani, was usually as excited for her breakfast as Avian was for his morning walk.
It was their daily routine—Avian walked her to the feeding ground, the small plot that the family owned at the outskirts of the village, and left her there for the day. She would feed there the whole day and then return home when the sun went down, all by herself.
She got her food; he got some time to himself and his imagination.
So what had happened today?
"Why would you not move? We are almost there. Don't you wanna eat??" called the boy, pushing the buffalo with his own feeble hands.
Was she sick or perhaps not hungry?
Well, she had been perfectly healthy moments prior, and their daily routine had been solid, and hence, left no room for her not being hungry.
After trying all sorts of tricks and treats, convincing, forcing, and playing the detective, the boy gave up and went to fetch water for himself from the well.
He deemed the riddle beyond his solving.
He should return home and pass on the case to Mumma, who would be a much better inspector.
It was then, in his exhaustion—and the wounded pride of his detective intelligence—that the boy was hit with an absurd realisation.
Rani may be afraid.
But of what? The land in front was quiet and serene.
He decided to find out himself. But he was afraid, as animals usually displayed better instincts than humans. And Rani had judged the front plains suspicious.
He paused and considered his options. The sun's rays, which seemed polite for now, would soon turn harsh and cruel, as the heatwaves would flood the air.
He wanted to be under the shade of his home when that happened. But leaving without accompanying the buffalo to her feeding ground might earn him a scolding from Mumma—and worse, provide his siblings a new topic for banter.
The least he could do was find the root of the animal's unrest.
And so Avian Pakshi made his way slowly to the feeding ground, with all the little bravery he could summon.
He was a young boy with clean, coal-black hair longer than his peers. The hair was a mess, flowing in weird directions, touching the collar at his nape and sheltering his ears. Unbothered by the constant nagging of the adults, he liked his hair. In his words, it gave him a distinct look. In his sister's words, it gave him the look of a muffled sparrow.
Avian was an obedient boy, with a calm demeanor, and yet he was always in an excited state—his head full of wonder, mischief, ambitions, and heroes of old that he had heard of, or new tales he had conjured up himself.
But this interest proved to be a hindrance this morning, as the previous night's tales of the serpent people—narrated by his elder brother and confirmed to be true by his eldest sister—were now invading his mind. They now sparked terror and suspicion, making him wary of the path forward that had seemed so peaceful just the day before, and all the days that had preceded.
He made his way feebly through the familiar path, distracted by the very thoughts that were the source of his uneasiness.
The area was filled with patches of grass that barely kept their greenery. The sun had baked them into a yellow hue.
He had barely walked a few hundred steps (which had taken him twice the usual time), when he came upon the feeding land and halted his steps—amongst the vast spread of the golden grass, two twigs of white grass, as bleached as bones, could be seen from afar.
The color contrast was jarring and made them stand out. He had seen the pasture grass many times before. And just like every inhabitant of the country, he too knew exactly what it signified.
Avian at once understood what was up.
Curiosity turned to bleak realisation, and fear turned to distress.
He traced the little streak of steps he had taken and went back to Rani.
"Looks like you'll need a new place to eat," Avian muttered as he made his way back home.
The uneasiness of the buffalo was now shared by the boy, and with each passing moment, Avian Pakshi felt a chill inside his heart.