The Rhythm Count
playful and crowded
The ground started thumping near evening, and the feather on YY's back trembled with each beat.
YY stood very still.
Thum. Pause. Thum. Pause. Thum-thum.
"That is either music or a very large stomach," he said. "I am open to both explanations."
Mira wanted the count before the meadow swallowed the sound in bird chatter. YY counted with one paw on the ground and one paw on the feather, which insisted on participating. The rhythm came from beyond the meadow, where many feet and many sounds blurred together.
They recorded the pattern first. Then YY joined the edge of the crowd and found the practical part: a traded bite of dried apple, a safer path around the densest noise, and three birds who had also been counting without admitting it.
By dark, the ledger had a rhythm row. YY had apple in his cheek and the beat still in his paws.
The feather shook once more as he climbed home. Not warning. Memory.
YY counted the distant rhythm with Mira before joining the meadow edge, keeping the feather branch oriented toward reading first and trading second.
state
YY recorded the rhythm count with Mira, then joined the meadow edge and carried apple and the beat home.