#seldomwrites

[seldomscilence16]

Dream Au Gift Part 1

Been working on this for awhile as a gift for @hey-hey-j cause Dream au is taking over my brain! I think this will be 4 or 5 parts as I work to finish it. I have added a few of my own headcannons so I apologize in advance! I cant help myself :I anyhoo! Dream au part one! Go check out Hey's amazing art as well as other people contributions that have made this so much fun to experience in the dream au tag!

....

Floyd is singing.

It's another gig, in another random establishment, in another town, with another random group of trolls. The shock of finding another Genre had worn off some years ago, and while it was still amazing to learn about the history of their worlds and vastly different lifestyles, he found himself wandering aimlessly, looking for that next place that’d allow him to play.

He didn’t like to think of it as a ‘means to an end’, but sometimes it felt like it. Like there was no real purpose anymore, like he was forcing himself to continue as guilt pulled him further and further down.

His eyes glance over the crowd, some swaying to his tune, others ignoring it as background noise. Green meets pink for just a moment as his eyes move, before flickering back once more. He blinks a few times, as that familiar shock from years ago visits him again, as he takes in this new type of Troll watching him so intently.

A flush darkens their green cheeks as they look away with an embarrassed hand rubbing at their neck. And for the first time in a while, Floyd feels something.

.

Hickory has never heard such a beautiful laugh, nor has he laughed so hard in quite some time. He finds himself telling this mysterious troll things he’s never shared outside family. He feels at ease, he feels seen, he feels warm and… happy.

So maybe that's why, as his stay here comes to an end, he finds himself extending an offer to his fellow traveler.

A chance to see a few new sights, to hear new music, and to continue getting to know one another.

He’s pleasantly surprised at the ‘yes’ the other breathes, seemingly surprised himself. The smile that comes after is one Hickory promises himself he’ll make happen as often as possible.

.

A soft kiss pressed to his forehead brings a surprising amount of comfort, easing that ache just a bit. Hickory wraps a soft blanket around his shoulders and urges him towards the sitting area out front. He sits in the fresh morning air tiredly, eyes closed and head tilted back as that familiar contentedness wraps around him.

He never thought he’d feel so at home with someone again. But Hickory, no matter where they traveled, had a way about him that left him feeling warm and loved. And as he comes around him, a soft graze of his hand over his shoulders, offering him a steaming mug, despite his weariness he offers a smile.

“Headache any better?” Asked softly, as he takes the seat across from him.

“A little, yeah.”

The look he receives is concerned, and Floyd knows he must look a mess to garner such a thing,

“If you want me to stay-” A calloused palm resting atop his own hand.

“No no, you go.” He raises his own hand to intertwine their fingers, “I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t Hickory’s first job, nor would it be his last, Floyd wouldn't let a little headache stop the yodeler. He liked his work, he was good at it, and Dockory was there to watch his back.

Floyd knew he’d be back.

.

The place is a mess.

The destruction left in the wake of giants too much to comprehend beyond his panic.

No one has seen him.

But there is no… no sign of him either.

Which means Floyd was taken.

And Hickory would find him. He would find him. Because he was alive. He had to be.

Please…

.

Barb stares at the two yodelers warily.

Things had been… tense… since everything. She’d been apologizing a lot- awkwardly, stiltedly- and helping with repairs and the likes where she could. The Funk Royals had been keeping an especially close eye on her, but it felt more like what she remembered of her parents during childhood than anything else- not to say it didn't make her paranoid and want to curl in on herself simultaneously.

But during everything, she had been going out of her way to do things, to try and make amends. So for the two bounty hunters to come to her? Well it was a little odd.

She had held their music over their heads, dangled it on a string, on top of threatening them. These two were the first to approach her at all, and she wondered what was so important that they would come to her over a month after everything.

The shorter one speaks up first,

“Uh, thank you for seeing us, Your Majesty.” It's just as stilted as her own conversations had been, his accent heavy, and despite their short encounters, Barb knows this is very unlike him.

Or maybe not being under threat just made people act differently?

“Yeah, it's… chill. What's up?” Someday maybe she could talk as easily as the Pop Queen, or as elegantly as the Funk Leaders, or as smooth as the Techno DJ, or even as prettilly as the Classical Conductor.

But she doubted it.

The taller side eyes the shorter, hesitant,

“We… need some help.”

Reluctant.

Well. Barb knew how that felt.

She could do this. It'd be a step in the right direction right?

.

They aren't expecting mail.

And the critter delivering it is unfamiliar and gone as quick as he came.

The letter is written in swirly handwriting, pretty and slightly crooked. A contrast to the actual words, a threat, a warning, a plea.

A fake.

Despite the years, Bruce knew this wasn’t his brother's handwriting.

“You have to go.”

His wife, beautiful and magnificent, stands at the counter behind him, looking down with a concerned tilt to her brow. They’d talked about this a million times, but this… this was the first actual sign.

“It sounds like a trap.” He points out, a weak argument really, he knows he won't be able to stand by.

“Then you’ll be careful.” She turns, signaling to their friend, grabbing the small pack he’s had since the forest, and filling it with supplies.

“I can’t just leave you and the kids, the restaurant.”

“I’m pretty sure Cove has pink-eye, and the restaurant will be fine. You need to go Bruce.”

The pack is placed in front of him, their friend already standing at the bar hat on his head, Bruce takes a deep breath,

“I’ll be back.” He promises, his gut stirring with too many emotions.

“I know you will.” They share a kiss filled with reassurances and love and everything Bruce needs to go through with this.

“Where to Bru?”

“Somewhere called Mount Rageous.”

.

Part 2>>

[seldomscilence16]

The Dream Au gift part 2

I think you'll be able to tell who I write the most after reading this...

Also made a vacationer OC, the 'friend' mentioned in past writings/posts. If you catch the pun let me know!

.

Floyd was cold. 

His hair was stiff, it hurt to even attempt to move, he was scared to keep his egg in there, he didn’t want them to get hurt when they…

He swallows thickly, holding his egg just that much closer, offering them any and all warmth he has left, anything to give them a chance. His hands have gone semi transparent, as have his feet. 

He’s scared. 

But he could only wish he was alone. 

To spare this innocent life. 

It seemed to be something he was good at, hurting ones too young to do anything to defend themselves. 

His eyes slip closed. 

.

Branch’s ears flicker, head tilting and stance widening as he tries to identify the noise and vibrations. 

Not a catterbus. 

Not a party. 

Not Bridget or Gristle or any of the Bergens. 

Not like the critters or predators of the forest that he would recognize in a heartbeat. 

“What's got you so nervous, Branchifer?” 

“Somethings coming into the Village.” 

“We aren't expecting anyone until next week though!” 

Branch turns to Poppy, hand coming up to stop her from throwing together some last minute party welcome, 

“Exactly. So let's handle it with caution first, please?” 

The Queen takes a deep breath, relaxing under the hand Branch had laid on her shoulder, 

“Right. You're right. Let's go check it out first.” 

He can’t help the small proud-grateful- smile that graces his face for a moment. She’d come a long way, and Branch couldn't wait to see where she’d go from here, but he needed to focus on the possible threat right now.

As they get closer to the outskirts of the village, where there are thankfully no lingering Trolls, the sounds are clearer to his ears but no less confusing. 

“It sounds like a… cart?”

Branch looks to Poppy, who- contrary to her younger self- is actually giving the distance a cautious look, body poised to respond however it needs to. And while with Poppy that could be an excited squeal and a hug, he can see the calculating look as well. 

His eyes roam their surroundings, legs tense and mind racing with possibilities, ringing with phantom mistakes of his past, it could be anything coming at them and another catastrophe was the last thing they needed! 

“-is way… I think.” A familiar voice just barely reaches his ears and he can’t help but frown in confusion. 

“Was that-” 

A critter bursts through the foliage, unlike any Branch has seen in person, with a harness across its back, pulling a very sophisticated wagon behind it that holds three familiar trolls. Branch pushes Poppy back as the critter rears up, Hickory pulling hard on the reins to halt in their tracks. 

Poppy stares for all of 2 seconds before she squeals, 

“What are you guys doing here!? It's so great to see you!” 

The three travelers are staring right back, catching their breaths it seems from the surprise stop, but as Branch takes them in, he doesn’t think this is a casual visit. 

Hickory looks rough, to say the least, hair a mess and unkept, face stubbled over, bags dark and thick beneath his red rimmed eyes. The air between the three is tense and awkward even as they process Poppy’s statement and never ending energy, they seem slower somehow, like their minds are elsewhere. 

When neither brother speaks, Barb takes the lead, though it's stilted and makes Branch want to cringe a bit at how uncomfortable she seems in doing so. 

“Uh, yeah, hey! S…sorry for dropping in unexpectedly, or whatever, but we’re lookin’ for someone, a Pop Troll.” 

Poppy gives a confused tilt to her head but an encouraging smile is paired with it,

“Sure, what's their name?” 

“Floyd.” Hickory’s voice croaks, a grief to his eyes, a desperate line to his shoulders.

Branch’s heart stops, he forces his breath to remain even as he stands on locked knees. 

It could be anybody, surely there were other Pop Trolls named Floyd-

“Mmm, nope, no Floyd’s in our tribe.” Poppy has to think for only a moment before answering, her time writing individual invitations a good way to keep track of her tribe surprisingly. 

But then… 

“What does he look like?” Branch’s own voice comes out with a strangled quality that he swallows quickly, bringing up a nonchalance he doesn't feel to cover up. 

Four pairs of eyes turn on him, he resolutely doesn't flinch or fidget under them.

“Kinda short, magenta hair, blue skin.” Dickory answers this time, eyeing his brother with concern as the taller stares into the distance- a memory, or mental image perhaps. 

But Branch is more focused on not collapsing. 

There was no way. 

It couldn’t be-

“He was a Pop Troll, traveling around, doing gigs around the tribes… The first I’d ever seen, before you two… I thought… maybe he’d come back to the village…” Hickory looks despondent at Poppy’s answer.

Branch’s gut is twisting into an increasingly tighter knot, something in him knows more than he does-

His brother was alive. 

.

Bruce gathers his little brother close, egg tucked oh so carefully in his hair- so small, it's so small- glaring at the room that he’d assumedly been trapped in for… for who knows how long. Vibrations warn of company, fear and anger war inside him as he swings his hair towards the vent, pulling them both up to safety.

Velvet and Veneer saunter in, like they haven’t been torturing his brother, spouting something about talent and spritz and he can't believe it. Bergens use them for happiness and these two were using his brother's talent?? What was with the world!?

A shriek from below, and frantic clattering is the last he hears as he retreats. He’d fuse with Floyd if it meant keeping him from more harm, but as it was he can only pull him all the closer and feel the soft puff of his strained breathing. 

When he boards Captain Morg’s boat again, his face must say it all, as his friend starts the engine and gets them out of there quickly, casting concerned looks their way as Bruce wraps the smaller troll in as many blankets as he can, anything to bring warmth to the younger. He swallows thickly at the white in his hair and the faded quality to his limbs, praying to the muses that he’ll be okay. 

He just got him back, please let him be okay. 

.

<<Prev next>>>

[seldomscilence16]

The Dream au gift part 3!

So at some point in this part, a character will 'make a face', obviously whatever face you think is valid, but it was in fact an accident on my part and I decided it could stay cause I imagined the character making that face and thought 'yeah he would'. But such a face is not one I can describe easily, so feel free to send your best pictures/memes of faces you thought of! And check out the dream au tag!

.

John Dory drops from the vents in a roll, the empty room so much larger than himself somehow feels stifling all the same. He finds an empty perfume glass, though it doesn’t smell like perfume, rather he sees speckles of familiar stomach churning glittery red and a smell he can only describe as suffering. 

There's no sign of Floyd. 

A shadow falls over him, not unlike the nightmare that the tree was, he sees a hand- giant and quick- reaching towards him. He has seconds to react, to dodge and run and get back into the vent, blood rushing in his ears too loud to catch whatever the giant screeches. Huddled in the vents, hair surrounding him, he makes no sound as he waits the giants out. Always hide. They can catch you if they can see you.

“Find him! The rage dome is around the corner and we need his talent!” 

John doesn’t stick around to hear the rest. His brother wasn’t here. 

But maybe… maybe he was somewhere else, maybe they all were. 

.

It started as a mostly normal day. 

Sure there was that strange critter that definitely got eaten by another, but Clay was putting it behind him thank you very much. 

So as night crawled closer, and their little colony settled into their normal nighttime routine, he was ready to chalk up that uneasy feeling in his gut to a bad milkshake. Of course, that is always when the universe decides to mess with him. 

A scout issues the warning noise for approaching unknowns, and Viva issues the camo and ready defenses response call. The course is dark and silent, and Clay can make out what sounds like voices and wooden wheels on the overgrown path that might have once been a road. Rarely do they get anything more dangerous than a large critter, to hear an… argument? It has them all on edge. 

He ushers the younger Trolls further into their hidey hole, hears Viva’s scary clown voice begin, and waits for any sign they’ll need to activate the rest of their defenses. 

“-Trolls?” 

His ears flicker, the clown shuts down, he heads out of hiding cautiously. 

Viva is talking with two Trolls. One with hooved feet and red hair, a scruffy stressed face, and the other bright pink and more familiar features. Behind them is a shorter troll who looks akin to the taller, and three more behind him. Despite the oddness of three of them, his eyes are drawn to the one eyeing the course with a tense line to his shoulders. 

There's something about him, and the feeling of familiarity only grows the closer he gets. When their eyes meet, despite how different he looks from his memory, Clay knows. 

“Baby Branch?”  

But his little brother does not light up and smile that joyous smile, 

“Just Branch.” And gosh doesn't he sound so different too, what happened to that little boy he knew? 

“You okay Branch?” The other Troll, the Pink one, slips her paw into his, a worried look on her face. 

The softness that enters his eyes, that blue shine it had lacked just a moment ago, tells Clay all he needs to know about who this is to his brother. 

“Yeah Poppy.” He turns back to Clay, a guarded look about him, “We just found the wrong brother is all.” 

Her own eyes are intense as she turns to him, and he knows he’s seen that look somewhere before,

“Hi, I’m Poppy.” Despite her cheery tone, there's an underlying hardness to it, “We’re here looking for Floyd, his boyfriend hasn’t seen him in months and he’s been worried sick. Don’t suppose you’ve seen him?” 

It's a lot to take in, he finds himself blinking several times, 

“Floyd’s… missing?” 

“News to me too.” Branch confirms, “Since I thought you all were dead, or at least dead to me.” He shrugs, ignoring Poppy’s light smack in admonishment, though Clay thinks it was more for show than anything. 

“He’s… he’s not here. I haven’t seen him since… Does this mean you guys made it through the tunnels??” 

Branch’s brow furrows and a million emotions flash through his eyes, Poppy is the one that answers,

“Floyd wasn’t part of the Escape…” Hesitant as she gauges Branch’s mood. 

“But… He was with you and Grandma..”

“I haven’t seen any of you since that night.” Branch finally says, shoulders slumping, “We were following a flying critter of some kind, Dickory says it usually stays around giants, so we were hoping it would lead us to some.” 

“Giants?” Clays voice lowers, “Do you mean Bergens?” 

“Oh no, not at all! We’ve established peace with the Bergens now! I’m best friends with the future Queen.” Poppy’s bright tone is met with silence, several Putt Putts have already rolled away to hide, a child is crying he thinks. 

“So… he was taken by different giants…?” 

“It's a long story.” 

.

“This guy?” Clay jerks a thumb where Hickory is still talking with Viva, an incredulous curve to his brows.

Branch nods, his own face betraying his astonishment. 

Hickory wasn’t a bad dude, despite the whole… thing that happened a few months ago, but it was still weird to learn of his previously thought dead brothers love life before he even knew about his life life. And Poppy mentioned something about the whole, siblings teasing each other's relationships? But he’s not 100% sure about all that either. 

Mostly Branch was just trying to ignore the hole in his heart in favor of actually finding his brother, he could deal with everything else later. 

“So, what's our next lead?” Barb sidles up beside them awkwardly, Poppy joining the two yodelers and Putt Putt leader. 

“There's only so many Giants within the area of the Kingdoms.” Branch points out, to which the Queen nods her agreement, Clay giving a tight-lipped, lost look but motioning for him to continue anyway, “I doubt it was Bergens, Gristle has warned the other settlements and it's kinda hard to miss them. So we just find the next closest one?” Branch ends it on a question, he’s not well versed in ALL giants, honestly he's just well versed in fighting things bigger than himself, but he’s still learning about the other Troll Tribes, he hasn't gotten around to other races yet. 

“I mean I guess that's fair…” Barb pulls a map from her bag, the updated ones the Funk Trolls had worked on, “I guess it would be this mountain thing over here.” 

Clay and Branch look over her shoulders, seeing the strange mountain labeled Rageous. It's not far considering, but far enough to remain unseen in their adventures. 

“Rageous sounds dangerous-” Clay pauses, a face made at his own semi rhyme, “But what would they want with a Troll?” 

.

First^^ Prev<< Next>>

[seldomscilence16]

The Dream Au Gift Part 4!

This one is a little shorter cause I got super busy but wanted to give ya'll something! Which also means I didnt edit it so sorry in advance! Check out 'The dream au' tag for awesome art, snippets, and other amazing writers takes! And check out @hey-hey-j the creator and fantastically talented mind behind it all and more!

...

Floyd has been unconscious since he found him. Tossing and turning and sick, but never awake. He’s wary of leaving his side, but he knows he needs to talk to his kids, and the island has been so worried… 

“Ngh-” He’s trembling, trying to push himself up, it's the first sign of anything, and Bruce is quick to pull him close, to support his weak frame. 

“Floyd, hey-” he fights in his hold, hand gripping Bruce's shirt far tighter than he should be able to in his condition, “It's okay!” 

“Whe-” gasping breaths from a too thin frame, “Where are they?” His other hand reaches for his own hair, faltering and panicked. 

Bruce carefully plucks the egg from his hair, placing it gently against Floyd's chest, 

“Here, they’re here, they’re safe.” Pulling him closer, trying to calm his own heart in some sense of reassurance, “You’re safe.”

Floyd cradles the egg, all his strength going into the action as he slumps against Bruce. His half lidded eyes are focused only on the precious cargo, but whether he’s actually taking anything in or not, the elder has no clue. When fuchsia pupils are hidden once again, when fever and unconsciousness dig their claws deep into the younger, and quiet raspy breaths once again fill the silence, Bruce lets a tear fall. Only one, before he takes a shuddering breath and situates his brother again, wiping at his face and returning to his position at his side. 

He couldn’t say how much time passes before his wife joins him. Her head laid so gently beside him as she kneels at the bedside. They speak in soft tones, and he takes strength in her supportive presence, and while the idea of leaving this room, leaving his side, had his stomach twisting and heart clenching, there is no one he trusts more than the woman before him. 

.

John hears arguing. 

An accented voice and another with a raspy quality to it. He thinks there's a few others in the background, but he’s more focused on the tones. His hair stands on end, nerves wound tight as he takes a stake from his hair, rarely does he run into other friendlies on the road, especially so close to a giant colony. He crouched low, ears flickering to pinpoint the louder voice-

He lunges.

.

Branch sees the figure around the same time Dickory does, but it does nothing to allow either of them to react in time. Barb flails backwards, Viva has Poppy pushed behind her, Hickory is still too surprised to do more than hold the stake wielding arm at a distance. Clay actually reacts first, gripping Branch’s shoulder as he breathes out another haunting name, before shouting it again with his arms up and out to draw attention,

“John!” 

His head whips around, faltering just barely as he takes the two in,

“Stop! He's with us!”

“He’s Floyd's Boyfriend!” Branch adds, a little too off put to say much else, anything to shock him enough to stop attacking. 

“He’s Floyd’s what now!?” 

“What is happening…?” Barb has been helped up by Poppy, staring at the frozen scene with a perplexed look, like she had been ready to fight and halted too soon, stuck in the lurch as it were. 

“The dead are coming back to life left and right is what's happening.” Branch mutters, heart calming just enough for some of that bitterness to return. 

“Let him go John, before you get yourself killed.” Clay warns reluctantly, motioning to the shorter yodeler that looks a moment away from throttling the visor wearer. 

John looks from one to the other, slowly lowering his weapon and releasing Hickory, he does a 180 as he turns to Clay and Branch, 

“I can’t believe you guys are alive!” He throws his arms out, grin wide, and maybe Branch can see some genuine relief in his eyes, but it's still over 20 years too late.

When silence follows his exclamation and neither brother moves forward to greet him, an awkwardness and tension war to fill the air and Poppy is never one to let it linger,

“Okay! Um… Hi, I’m Poppy. My newly found sister Viva, Queen Barb of Rock, Hickory and Dickory, and I guess you already know those two… Uh,” her eyes flash around their group and surroundings for only a moment, “It's getting dark, why don't we make camp, and figure out our next move.” 

Everyone warily dispersed to do just that, Branch ignoring John's dejected look, as Poppy appears at his side with a worried tilt to her brow. He releases a quiet sigh, but takes her offered hand as they go to collect firewood. 

.

Viva had not expected her day to turn out like this. To meet other Trolls, to reunite with her sister- who wasn't dead!- to agree to leave the putt putt course and join her on this journey… 

She was kinda freaking out. 

The jump scare just now didn’t help, and the tension between so many members was making her nervous, only added to with their newest addition. There were so many questions, but just like herself, no one looked ready to talk about it just yet. 

Their newest member stood where he had been left, Dickory eyeing him where he was setting up their sleeping spaces. John looked lost, and sad. A million emotions in his eyes, one's she didn't know, and ones she did. For all of Dickory's suspicion, she had no doubts that he too recognized some. 

And with their current group… It likely wouldn’t be addressed quickly. 

She makes eye contact with the shorter Yodeler as she shuffles closer to John Dory, figuring for once that her speed wouldn’t be appreciated here. To his credit, John's ear twitches at her approach, obviously still aware. His face changes as he straightens up, turning to look at her with only a little strain to his smile, 

“Princess Viva, good to see you alive, or would it be Queen now?” His brow furrows at the thought, the passage of time a tricky thing to deal with. 

“Mm, Clay and I are Co leaders of the Putt Putt Trolls.” Viva offers with a shrug and a so-so gesture. 

John blinks a few times, and Viva can see his brain turning all the new info around, before he nods, eyes going to where his two brothers had gone- in different directions. She thinks she might see something click, and she's reminded of the Band she loved so much, and how different they all are now. 

How real they are. 

“What brings you out here?” She finally asks, breaking the tense silence. 

“Found some food!” 

Their eyes snap back to the designated camping area, where a fire has been started already and tents set up, a pot hanging over the flames. 

“We should help out.” 

Viva’s lips purse as John walks away, avoiding her question as his shoulders sag with whatever heavy weight he’s carrying. 

Dickory sits beside him as they eat, a silence hanging over them all as even Viva and Poppy fail to lighten the mood. Eventually, John wanders to the border of their little clearing, sitting against a tree, only then do conversations slowly pick up. 

It bugs her.

But she's not sure why.  

…

“There you are! Are you alright?” 

Hickory can’t draw his eyes away from the letter, reading over it once more, each swirly slightly crooked letter. 

“It's not his handwriting.” Admitting it out loud feels like a window shutting on his shoulders. 

“You think the brother’s telling the truth?” Dickory sits beside him, he can feel the worried eyes scanning his profile as a tear escapes his careful facade. 

“What other choice do I have?” His voice goes hoarse, the letter crinkling in his fists, he has to force his grip to lessen as not to tear the evidence. His brother is silent for a long moment,

“I'm sorry…” Rarely does Dickory’s voice sound like this, “I shouldn't have asked you to come with me.” The guilt… 

“It's not your fault.” Hickory has to swallow the lump in his throat, for all his anger and fear, he never means to hurt his brother.

“But if I hadn’t-”

“Stop it.” He finally turns to him fully, firm as he looks him in the eyes, “I’m the one who left. If it's anyone's fault-” his shoulders slump-

“Now you stop it.” Dickory’s hand is solid and warm on his shoulder.

And despite the despair and guilt, an understanding passes between them. 

They’d have each others backs, like they always did. 

<<Prev next>>

[seldomscilence16]

Can't believe i'm actually apart of a zine! Its been fun working with so many incredible people and seeing their amazing talent! The @sing-it-togetherzine mods have been awesome and I can't wait to see it all come together. Random snippets of my contribution below!

...

Branch had spent 20 years of his life stubbornly alone and dedicated to the hard work it took to keep himself- and the village- as safe as it could be. He rarely had time for breaks, though his routine was something he’s grown accustomed to, a system that worked for him and allowed him to be as prepared as he possibly could be. A system that was currently being uprooted and redone as his life as he knew it changed, as he had to try to adapt to new circumstances and being a part of a society again- Not that he was complaining!

At least, not out loud…

.

Grabbing his basket, forcing his legs to stop shaking, he heads up and out to find… berries? Yeah that sounded right, he would find the heck out of those berries…

.

“Usually we’re keeping others from bugging Branch about a party, a little ironic that we’re going to bug him about preparations for one.” Boom remarks idly, smiling slightly at the thought.

.

The very thought of Branch being in trouble, from predators or otherwise, felt like a stab to the heart.

.

Grandma comes closer and brushes a gentle hand over his forehead, a sad smile on her face-

.

“Not getting rid of us, that's for sure.” Hype agrees, “If Troll eating giants can’t keep us apart, I don’t think a few scars will either, yeah?”