Buttermilk Stories and Prompts

"Good morning, Gwyneth!"
"Morning, Miss Sunflower!"
"How's your day going, Gwyn?"
"Quite well, Mister Bumblebee. How about yours?"

What may seem like a fever dream to some was Gwyn's normal as a calf. Her every moment was spent talking to the plants and the bugs, those that others call silent. To her, though, it was normal to hear the giggle of a ladybug or the murmur of a rose. Her ears, like a radio, were tuned to understand the voices of those without one. Her world was full of sound, of voices, of friends to be had and stories to be heard, all unique to her. Gwyn's ears had no limits...

"Gwyneth, what did I tell you? Stop talking to yourself, or you will get made fun of in the new neighborhood. Go inside and pack your bags,"

...that is, until she moved from her family's farm into the lifeless, metal city. The voices she lived for were drowned out by a neverending cacophony of artificial sounds. Her gift was taken from her, and her world fell silent. Now it's been years since nature has spoken to her. Some days she wondered if she had imagined the voices entirely. Her life was bleak, ordinary, and uneventful. That is, until today...

"Wait... do you hear that?"
"Hear what? Hurry, Gwyn, or we're going to miss the train!"

But Gwyn was frozen on the busy sidewalk, her mind spinning. The voice she had heard wasn't a cow's, but one she hadn't heard for an eternity. Her eyes scanned the ground, the sky, the faces of those around her, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Right as she was about to give up, she heard it again...

"Everyone has a voice... listen to what the world has to say,"

Barely a whisper, but there all the same. In the same moment, a streak of colors flitted through the air before her, the most beautiful butterfly she had ever seen. Even more beautiful, though, was what she heard. Like a broken dam or the flip of a switch, all the voices of the world suddenly came flooding back in. Instead of the old farm voices, she now heard the weeds and moss, flies and mosquitoes. The harmony of the world, a perfect melody, greeted her once again, and this time it would never be silenced.