The little butterfly

 In a quiet field kissed by golden sun and gentle winds, two butterflies emerged from their cocoons—Liora, and Vey, bold with wings streaked in deep sapphire. From the moment they took flight, they danced together over wildflowers, whispering secrets of freedom, wonder, and the joy of being alive. But the world, as beautiful as it was, held danger too.


One day, while playing near the edge of the field, Vey warned, “Not all hands that reach for you mean to help.”

Liora, ever trusting, replied, “But how will they ever know us if we don’t let them come close?”

Just then, a net swept through the air.


In panic, they darted in opposite directions. Vey soared skyward, but Liora caught too late brushing the edge of the net. One wing tore, and she spiraled down into the grass, her world spinning. Hidden by wild thyme, she lay trembling as footsteps faded.

Vey, meanwhile, had flown safely to a tree branch, but her heart was heavy. She saw Liora fall, and though fear gripped her, she returned, inching through the grass to find her friend.


Days passed. Vey stayed by Liora’s side, bringing nectar droplets, shielding her from rain with her wings, and helping her practice tiny flutters. Liora, with time and patience, began to fly again, awkwardly at first, but with growing strength and grace. Her wing remained crooked, but her spirit soared higher than ever.


Far away, on the wall of a grand study, another butterfly, gorgeous and perfectly preserved, sat motionless in a glass case. Labeled “Specimen No. 42,” it was Vey, who had flown alone too close to a window and been captured days after.


She had survived without a scar, but no one had been there to warn her, to care, or to understand. And in that still, silent prison, all her beauty was trapped in admiration without empathy.


Back in the field, Liora fluttered through the breeze with her broken wing and full heart. She had learned that survival wasn’t just about strength, it was about compassion, about staying when others flee, and healing together.

Because sometimes, it is the scarred who truly fly free.


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