Genre: Slice of Life

The early August sky stretched out like a richly colored canvas. 

Propped up on his boulder, Lakshman was content to stare up at the painting, arms wrapped around his knees, an unrestrained smile spreading on his face. 

He closed his eyes, feeling the chilly flurry rushing past his hair, playfully ruffling his bangs. Lakshman loved the days when August began to blend into September, when the relentless summer turned to merciful fall. 

The blistering heat was replaced by a crisp breeze, the sun was masked by clouds, and amidst the brisk air, Lakshman could sit without having to worry about burning his hands against the simmering ground. 

For the past seven years, the brand new dawn had been welcome in the abodes of Chitrakut, and he was pleased to learn that Dandakaranya (despite the creepy name and frankly very freaky trees) was no different. 

Sadly, they were still tortured by the afternoon heat no matter the month, so to catch the pleasant climate before it morphed into the sun's wrath, Lakshman had to forgo his prized hours of sleep and wake up before the crickets stopped chirping and the day was still in infancy.

Really, the only other good thing about waking up at the first chirp of dawn was being able to watch the glowy crimson sun rise, undeterred by the wind that pushed the violet clouds across the foothills of heaven. 

Lakshman wished he could be like the sun. Not the glowing crimson part, but the undeterred part (though maybe if his skin was bright red, he could scare off a few more rakshasas).

Awake before everyone else, Lakshman could watch as the animals started their day. 

The playboy birds began to lazily chirp their newest love poems to the blushing females. 

Squeaky quirrels scampered to their shade before the day's warmth seeped into the air. 

Under the pinkish glow of the sunrise, the fur coats of the deer glistened as they grazed the grassy clearings. 

With an exhausted groan, Ram stepped out of the hut, stretching his arms out. Lakshman quickly sat up, waving towards his brother with a childish excitement that Ram smiled warily at. 

"Laksh," he chided. "Up early again? Did you even sleep? No one's about to attack our cottage in the middle of the night. You really need to get some sleep."

"I do, bhaiyya." Lakshman breathed, almost giddy by the shower of morning colors. "I get so much rest." In the distance, an owl hooted in affirmation.

Ram rubbed his eyes. "Well how about you take the first patrol then, if you're so rested?"

Lakshman stepped off his boulder eagerly, gripping his bow. "Of course, bhaiyya." he promised, before loping off into the dewy brush.

The Chitrakut forest had been his loyal home for the previous half of the exile. Now they were in Dandakaranya. New name. New forest. New threats. 

But the same refreshing dawn to greet him at the junction of night and day. And if he wasn't there to protect the serenity of the early mornings and the felicity of the prickly dusk, then his name wasn't Lakshman.

A/N: This is one of those pieces that feels beautiful when I'm writing it but when I read it, seems ugly and unimpactful. It just feels so plain. I can't explain why. I'm skimming through it over and over and I can't understand it. 

I think I need to remove the pitiful little attempt-at-humor rambles and keep this majority description. I'll work on that later.

Anyway, this is a Lakshman character study  to help you recover from the last chapter if you were impacted at all by that. 

I want to write more Lakshman stuff. I feel like Bharat and Ram have kind of dominated my writing lately (??), and the twins have been cast aside. That's because Amita's been writing about those two too, and I guess I get ideas from her, so...

But I say no to twin neglect! I say no to not completely obsessing over and dedicating every word to the twins! Mochi says NO to anything that isn't about Lakshman. 

Even though I'm in the process of Ram versus Ravan. 

Me: Let's ignore that and write more shorts!!

enamot *screaming at me to update PoA in my conscience*: ...