"This one no, this one yes, this one maybe… ohhh noooo Rocky doesn't know!" He covered his face with his tiny hands, peeking through his fingers like the stones might whisper the answer back to him.
His little shoulders slumped. "Maybe I should just give all stones to Lucien… but then my bed will be lonely." He pouted and hugged his box close again, rocking back and forth like a pebble himself.
He was so confused his little stone-marked cheeks puffed like a dumpling. His round eyes stared at the whole glittering spread of pebbles on his bed, and finally, with a tiny huff, he decided to put them in a line. Carefully, one by one, he pushed the pebbles until they formed a neat little row like tiny soldiers waiting for inspection.
"What…" he muttered, poking the first pebble with his small finger, "should Rocky gift Lucien?"
He moved to the next one, poking again. "This one? …No, too flat."
Poke. "This one? Too bumpy."
Poke. "This one? Too round, Lucien might roll it away."
