Where does the wind blow?

I sit here, watching the ripples form
the birds fly
leaves rustle in the light
The calm sensation of the crystal-like waters
encaptures me in its wonders
As I wonder for the second time
Where does the wind blow?

Silently, he watched the lake roll, melting away the ice of the winter, and warming up. It was enjoyment; he liked it. That would probably what he'd do for now. Sit back and gaze in wonder at the school's different anture sights.

Stephen jotted things down on his notepad, actually liking what he had written. Of course, it was scratch; he'd edit it later, hence the lack of periods and commas. Sitting at the edge of the lake, he let the wind rush pass him, playing with his uncombed hair.

For the first time for two years, he sat back and enjoyed the simplicity of life.

He flinched from the touch, and stared cautiously at the girl who had showed up. He turned his gray eyes surprised, and even more surprised at the act of her bringing out her own notepad.

"Hello," he greeted, and settled back silently, wondering what this girl would say. He had never been in contact with a girl for quite a while, so he probably didn't know how to react. Oh well, just watch what she would say, he thought.

After a great deal of silence, and an abnormal staring at her, he noticed she had a mask on. Wondering what that was for, he was cut short by her howing the picture to him. "Wow, that's- that's really good," he commented, looking at all the details. Then, the beauty of the lake was encaptured on a single sheet of paper, without color too, and he found himself gaping in awe.

"You're really good; with all your little details," he nodded impressed. Being dense and finally noticing that she had depicted his poem, "Ah, so you read my poem. But you could've told me you were there; you almost gave me a heart attack," he laughed.

He noticed her wince. "Oh, you can't say anything? Mute or something?" he asked, wondering what might be the problem. Stephen, then, remembered he was impolite again, and stupidly hadn't shut his mouth at the right time. "Eh, if it's private thing, it's fine."

He closed his notepad, and laid down against the grass, crushing all the little things that probably was squished underneath him, including his broken wings. Yeah, and that wasn't helping them heal either. "So you go to S.A.? Just nod or something, I'm not forcing you to talk."

"Ah, Klay, right?" he put the piece of paper on his face, and breathed slightly on it, and closed his eyes for a bit. "I'm Stephen," he said, after a short pause. He lifted the piece of paper off his face, and stared at the clouds. "The wispy puffs of air in the sky... they're lovely, aren't they? Just makes you want to close your eyes and sleep..."