Short Short Story?

   This morning I had a half-dream in the time between my alarm and getting up: 

   The grey boys stood in silent rows in the walled yard. When the wind came, they folded forward from the ankle, dominoes, and then straightened. They were being trained or punished for something, but in that place there were no answers. 

   The Other darted through them, and a ripple of rebellion was his wake. The hooded men came hunting the Other, but his presence had changed the boys, and they shielded him. The search continued, the balance shifted, and the grey boys found their power in that burning world.