This world makes me unhappy, so I have to cross the ocean and never come back. What kind of world is outside this world? Will there be a partner standing on the shore waving me vigorously at the end of the sea line? What are they like? Is it cute and kind? Until the moment I met you, I wasn't sure, weird, is it really you? You whine, you say it's the sound of welcoming friends, I like it.
You are big like a wall, you have big claws, a big head, big eyes on the head, big nose and big mouth. When you walk, the stones on the ground will dance. You're unhappy, whining, and you want to look petite and beautiful. Well, I'll tell you my secret too: I want to be the king of the world, and whoever makes me unhappy, I'm going to let him lose his head. You hummed: You are the little one. So, I have a beast friend who wants to be smaller, and you, a little guy who wants to be a king.
During the day, you taught me to shoot down owls in the sky with rocks, and I taught you spells about the unhappy shield, and at night, you made me lie on your plush belly, and I was half-asleep and told you about what I was The thrilling experience of defeating the Vikings on the other side of the world. You put your hands on my shoulders like a quilt.
I like you even if you are not petite and beautiful. I like that you have big claws that can lift me up against the wind; I like that you have a big head that shakes with every step; I like that you have big eyes from where I see another world And myself; I like that you have a big nose and that you smell me with it; I like that you have a big mouth that whines when you're happy and whimpering when you're angry.
I like you, even if you're not petite and beautiful, I said it doesn't matter, who is perfect without flaws? Just like every time you tell a story, you look at me intently. In your eyes, there is no king, no warrior, just an ordinary little boy who loves to lie.
Just now, I put my crown and scepter on the sand, and the waves will carry them away. From now on, I will no longer be a king.
When you turn around, you are there, whimpering.
View more about Where the Wild Things Are reviews
