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Bog woke with a start, his blue eyes wide with startled fear. He sat in his dark bedroom and looked around. He only saw shadows and only heard the sound of rain. He started to relax when he was startled again by a loud crack of thunder. He gulped and pulled his mossy covers up to his chin. He murmured in his little voice, “I am a tough guy like Da. Thunder doesn't scare me.” The thunder cracked again and lit up his bedroom. Bog squeaked and jumped out of bed to burst through his door and take off at a run down the hall, his little dragonfly wings buzzing behind him. He startled to a stop when he saw two of his father's goblin guards. They were suppose to be standing guard in the hall, but they were asleep as they leaned against one another and snored.
Bog moved around the guards to his parents' room. He quickly threw open his parents' bedroom door and rushed into their room, making both of them jump. Bog stopped and stood there in the room trying not to be scared, but clearly he was terrified as the lightning and thunder lit up their room. Bog's father came over and picked up his son with a glance over at Griselda in confusion. He carried his son over to sit down on the edge of the bed. Little Bog tried not to bury his head against his father's neck. He wanted desperately to be as brave as his father. But even trying to be brave, he leaned against his father's shoulder to feel more protected. His blue eyes were large with fear despite his six year old attempt at controlling it.
Bog's father frowned. “What is it, my little prince?” Griselda stroked their son's head, his leafy spikes still stuck up all over the place even though he would be seven soon. Little Bog looked a great deal like his father, just not as spikey yet. “Little bug, you can tell us.”
Bog looked up at his mother and then his father, his large blue eyes conveying his anxiety, but he murmured, “The thunder—it scared me.” Bog said it as if he were ashamed about being scared but Griselda smiled and his father chuckled, a rumble he could feel deep in his father's chest.
Bog's father stroked his head. “There is no shame in fear Bog, none whatsoever. Actually, fear can be a very wise reaction.” Griselda reached for him and Bog's father passed their son to her. Bog wrapped his skinny arms around his mother's neck despite the fact that he was already becoming too tall for her to hold properly. “Fear makes you cautious and wise. You don't go rushing into things that could hurt you if you have a healthy dose of fear to make you think first.”
Griselda laid back down on their mossy bed, Bog's father doing the same, holding their son between them. Bog snuggled down in the bed looking at his parents with earnest blue eyes. “So when there is thunder, I should be brave?”
Bog's father smiled and stroked his sons cheek. “No, you can still be scared, you simply do not let your fear tell you what to do.”
Little Bog giggled as his father and Griselda both tickled him a little until he squealed for them to stop.
“Now get some sleep, little bug.” Griselda nuzzled her son. Bog's father leaned over and wrapped his arm around the two of them easily and pulled his small family close to him, the three drifted off to sleep with the sound of rain and thunder.