The Amazing Tales of Mr. Small Chi'ld, Part 1:

Small, meticulous, and blue, Mr. Small Chi'ld was a curious fellow.  Though he was a Chinese cricket of the royal court from millennia ago, he had quite the memory and quite interesting tattoos along every inch of his buggy body. 

I came across Mr. Small Chi'ld (this of course is not his real name, but a nickname I gave him b/c I could not pronounce his Chinese name) as I was scaling the Great Wall of China.  I had accidentally knocked off a loose stone from its foundation.  There was a preserved pocket of ice, so clear that it was blue; in fact this blue hue was created by Mr. Small Chi'ld imbedded deep in the core.  His color had concentrated so much over the ages that although he was encased in a small wooden box, his blue light seeped through.  Even now, he and I argue over whether he is a cricket or in reality a lost breed of firefly.  His only power of argument is derived from his ability to make the most ethereal noise I've ever heard.  It is so slight and breathy--sounds much like a reed instrument, but has a smooth deep undertone that seems to resonate from a distance.  At the moment, he is whispering in my ear to pause and continue the story a bit later.  I have to obey...but don't fret, I will write again...soon.