Thomas ran to the table and quickly slipped under the tablecloth, unseen by any British soldiers. He sat down on the dirt and took out his paper and quill pen, ready to take notes on what the British soldiers are planning to do next. He turned his head slightly, and what he saw shocked him. There was another boy under the table, who looked about the same age as Thomas, who was 12 years old. He gasped, and the other boy noticed him. "Please don't hurt me!", they said in unison, both wide-eyed with fear. The first thing Thomas noticed about this new boy is that he had a British accent. He must be on the British side of the war. The second thing he notices is the boy's eyes. They are a beautiful, dark brown, easy to get lost in. They giggle a little bit, now that they each see that the other is not a threat. "What's a Patriot like you doing here in the British camp?", asked the new boy. "Well...I'm a spy...", confessed Thomas sheepishly. Feeling the need to justify himself, he said, slightly defensively, "I don't have a family...this was my only choice. There isn't much besides spying a twelve-

year-old boy can do in a war. What about you? What are you doing under this table?" "Er...hiding...", said the boy. "I spilled a bucket of water on the general, and I needed a place to hide until he calms down and forgets what I did". The boy turned slightly pink. Thomas giggled. "What's your name?", he asked. "I'm Newt", said the boy. "I'm Thomas", said Thomas. He held out his hand and Newt shook it. They shared a small smile. "Please don't tell on me", said Thomas, suddenly anxious. "They'll surely kill me". "Don't worry, I won't say a word. I probably hate these guys as much as you do", said Newt. "I mean...I don't HATE them, exactly. I just wish I didn't have to be in a war. But it's sort of a good thing for me, I haven't got a family either..." "I wish there was peace too", said Thomas. "But I don't know where I'd go if I wasn't with the army". Suddenly there was a gunshot, and Newt and Thomas instinctively clung to each other in fear. "I should probably go", whispered Thomas. "I'll just tell them I couldn't hear anything". "Will you come back?", asked Newt shyly, not wanting his new friend to leave. Thomas saw how genuinely sad Newt seemed that he was leaving. "Same time tomorrow" was all he said before darting off into the darkness.

The next day, Thomas met Newt under the table again. They talked for a little while, almost like normal boys. They soon learned that they shared many of the same interests, and they were nearly the same age. Newt was about a half year older than Thomas and he was a couple of inches taller. The two boys soon became attached to each other, and met under the table every day. Thomas took some notes from information Newt gave him so that his daily absence wouldn't seem suspicious to the Patriots. On the fifth day, Thomas came to Newt with tears in his eyes. "We're moving camp the day after tomorrow", he said, starting to sniffle. "I don't wanna leave you. You're the only friend I've ever had!". "Oh, Tommy", sighed Newt, starting to cry a little himself. "I'm gonna miss you so much". He leaned against Thomas and wrapped his arms around his friend. Thomas rested his had on Newt's shoulder and just cried. They sat there for a few minutes until Newt had an idea. "Wait! Tommy!", he exclaimed. "Maybe we haven't lost all hope! Tomorrow, come back here with all your belongings. I'll bring mine as well. We can sneak away into that forest over there and live in peace away from the war. We aren't very important to the armies anyway". Thomas lights up at that idea! "It's brilliant! I will be very glad to leave, the soldiers never really treated me well anyways. They'd always hit me if I did something wrong, and didn't treat me as an equal". "Then it's settled!", sad Newt happily. "See you tomorrow, Tommy".

When Thomas got back to camp, the soldier who took his findings about the British army's plans informed him that there was a change of plans and they were actually leaving tomorrow, so he wouldn't need to go spy on the British again. At first, Thomas panicked, but he didn't show it. At dinner, if you could call dried fish and stale crackers dinner, Thomas hatched a plan. That night, he took all his belongings and tied them up in a cloth. He tied the cloth around a spare wooden pole he found by the fire earlier that evening and the quietly snuck out of his sleeping tent, tiptoeing around the now-blackened fire pit, past the general's tent, and out of the camp. On the way to the British camp, it began to rain. Thomas picked up his pace, and eventually broke into a run. He found shelter and a good hiding place under the table where he and Newt always met, glad of the dryness of the dirt floor. It was slightly warmer under the table too, and Thomas was able to lull himself to sleep with thoughts of seeing Newt again and the sound of the rain pounding against the tabletop.

Thomas woke up to the morning light. How odd, he thought. Then he realized that he was no longer under the table. He blinked a few times and sat up. He was greeted with the rather unpleasant image of three redcoats looking down at him, bayonets pointed at his heart. "I-I was just-", Thomas tried to make up an explanation, but was quickly interrupted by one of the soldiers. "I don't want to hear your excuses, boy. They will only hurt you more. Now, you're going to tell us-" "WAIT! Don't hurt him! Please, don't hurt Tommy!". A familiar voice, full of desperation and fear cried. Newt was running towards Thomas his face white and terrified. "Stay out of it, traitor! What have you been doing, fraternizing with the enemy!?", said the soldier who had spoken earlier, his voice harsh and angry. "We'll deal with you later". At that moment, Thomas slipped between the soldiers, running towards Newt. He reached his friend and grabbed his hand, still running. "We've got to get out of here!", he cried. The boys ran together, hand in hand, out of the camp. The soldiers began to shoot at them, yelling angry words and curses. Newt and Thomas were almost at the edge of the woods when Newt cried out in pain. "Tommy, my leg!". Thomas knew they had to keep going, so he dragged Newt along with him, and they disappeared into the woods, where they knew the British soldiers wouldn't bother to follow them.

Thomas continued along, his pace slowing now that he was in the woods. He soon found an empty spot and set Newt down there. "Newt, everything's gonna be okay. You'll be okay", he said in a reassuring voice. "I'll take care of you". And with that, Thomas placed a tender kiss on Newt's forehead. Newt smiled up at him. Thomas smiled back. "Now, let's take a look at that leg of yours", he said. Luckily, Thomas had stolen a small medical kit from his camp before running away (as well as a bayonet and few bullets, some food rations, and a canteen) and he was able to expertly clan and dress Newt's wound. Newt had been shot, but thankfully the bullet had only grazed his leg, so the wound wasn't fatefully deep. Thomas declared that Newt would be fine in a few weeks. As it turned out, Thomas had quite a gift in medicine. "So...I guess we'll be living here now", said Newt. "We'll finally have some peace".

Soon, Thomas had constructed a small shelter for himself and Newt to sleep in out of sticks and branches, leaves, and the big cloth that held his belongings. Newt volunteered to help, but Thomas insisted that he rest for the time being. Reluctantly, Newt obliged. Thomas built a fire a little ways from their makeshift shelter, and dragged a single log over for them to sit on while they ate their meals. That night he helped Newt walk over to the fire and sit on the log, then sat next to him after he started the fire. "I wish I wasn't so immobile. I feel pathetic", Newt sighed. "It's no big deal. You'll recover soon enough", said Thomas, reaching over and taking Newt's hand, rubbing circles in the back of his hand.

Thomas had been right. Newt recovered quite quickly, although his leg healed funny, leaving him with a slight limp. The two boys grew progressively closer, and their connection ran deeper than just friends...although they weren't exactly sure of their feelings. One night, Newt and Thomas were laying in their "bed", which was pretty much a bunch of blankets under their makeshift shelter, which they shared, just trying to fall asleep, but with much trouble. They had both begun to get anxiety for fear of the soldiers finding them, even though they knew the idea was preposterous. Thomas moved over and snuggled against Newt. Newt gave a contented sigh and leaned into his best friend. He thought about these strange feelings he had begun to get whenever he looked at or touched Thomas, how he longed hold him even closer and never leave. He wanted to say something, but he was scared that Thomas didn't feel the same way. Soon, Thomas fell asleep, and Newt managed to do the same shortly after, putting aside his feelings and worries about Thomas.

Winter was approaching, and Thomas's and Newt's anxiety was growing. They didn't really have the materials to make an insulated shelter, and their clothes were not warm enough for winter. There seemed to be only one option: they would have to go hunting. Neither boy was very excited about having to kill an animal, but it seemed that they needed the fur-and they could also use the bones for part of the shelter's structure. They would also eat the animal's meat-it would be the first meat they had to eat in almost a year-which would be a nice change from their usual nuts and berries. "I'm scared, Tommy", said Newt in a small voice one crisp autumn morning. He shivered as a particularly cold gust of wind blew into him. Thomas was scared too, but not as much as Newt, so he tried to put on a brave face and comfort him. He walked over and wrapped his arms around his friend, hugging him tightly. He whispered, "Everything will work out, Newt. As long as we have each other, we will be just fine". Newt seemed to relax in Thomas's arms, and leaned his head against his friend's shoulder. Thomas pressed a kiss to Newt's hair, and Newt made a little noise of contentment. He is so adorable, thought Thomas. I love him so much...wait, what?! I can't love Newt, he's my best friend! He would never like me back...would he?"Newt, I think we should start hunting now", said Thomas, patting Newt's hair gently. "We need to start on a warmer shelter and clothes as soon as we can". Newt pulled away from Thomas's embrace, slightly red in the face. "Right...er...we should be getting a move on", he said.

As it turned out, Newt and Thomas had quite a knack for hunting-Thomas being somewhat more skilled than Newt-although they still didn't like the idea of killing, so they did not plan to make it a regular thing. Nonetheless, the boys had managed to kill a deer (but they had made sure there were no babies around, they didn't want to leave helpless baby deer without parents) as well as two rabbits and a squirrel. Now Newt and Thomas were met with a new challenge-cleaning, cutting, and cooking the dead deer. The idea of skinning and cutting the deer made Thomas queasy, so Newt did that part by himself. Once he had skinned the deer as best he could, he gave the skin to Thomas to wash in the creek nearby. Then he proceeded to expertly cut all the meat off the deer, then cut it into strips and cubes. He set aside the bones for Thomas to clean when came back with the deer's skin. Satisfied with his work, Newt laid back against a tree and closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Thomas was attempting to clean the deer's skin at the creek without being sick. Most of the blood and gore was gone, to Thomas's relief. He scrubbed at the skin for a bit longer, then wrung it out and started heading back to his and Newt's "home". When he got back, he built a makeshift drying rack and hung the skin on it. He saw Newt leaned against a tree with a pile of cut-up meat and a pile of bones next to him. He seemed to be sleeping, and he looked beautiful to Thomas. Thomas went over to Newt and sat next to him, leaning against the tree as well. He gently moved Newt's hair off his forehead, smiling at the angelic expression on his face. Newt made a small noise of contentment and leaned into Thomas's touch, opening his eyes slowly and grinning. "Good afternoon, Newt", said Thomas formally. "Fancy seeing you here". Newt giggled and swatted him on the shoulder, making Thomas smile even wider. He decided to play along with Thomas's joke. "How are you this fine day, Thomas?", he said. "Absolutely marvellous, thank you very much", Thomas replied, struggling to keep a straight face. Newt started giggling uncontrollably, which set Thomas off. They fell into a heap of laughter and didn't stop for a while. Newt slumped over onto Thomas's lap, still laughing a little bit. Thomas took a deep breath, then let it out. "We should begin building the structure of our winter shelter", he said quietly, laying a hand gently on Newt's shoulder. "You're right", said Newt. "Let's get started".

Newt and Thomas proceeded to build their shelter's structure out of strong and sturdy branches, logs, and deer bones, finally draping the now-dry deerskin over the top. They put the blankets from their other shelter in it, making a nest-like 'bed' for themselves like the one in their other shelter. That night, after a dinner of cooked deer meat and berries, the boys laid in their nest of blankets and talked about the approaching winter, how the weather was getting colder by the day. Newt shivered just thinking about it, and Thomas scooted over and wrapped his arms around him, hoping he would warm up. Newt loved it when Thomas did that. It made him feel warmer on the inside as well as the outside. He especially liked those rare occasions when Thomas tenderly kissed the top of his head or his forehead, like he was doing now. How he wished he could get up the courage to kiss Thomas on the lips. He wondered how that would feel. It seemed like it would feel very soft and warm. The feelings he had for his best (and only) friend were unlike any he had felt for anyone he'd ever met before. With a sudden rush of courage, he said, "Tommy, I've got something to tell you. Please don't be mad at me...". "I could never be mad at you!", said Thomas. "You're my best friend! And my only one, but forget that". Newt took a deep breath and continued. "So, lately, I've been

feeling...odd...around...around you. And I just...I...never mind, I don't think it's important". Newt, suddenly self concious, got up and started to walk away. "Wait, Newt!", said Thomas, following his friend. Newt kept walking. He figured he was just about to get rejected. Thomas was running after him now, and when he finally caught up, he spun Newt around so they were facing each other. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Newt, and pressed their foreheads together. "Newt, listen to me", he said. "I know exactly how you feel, because I feel just the same. I think I love you". He smiled. Then, he tilted his head slightly, closed m his eyes, and pressed his lips to Newt's. Newt was taken by surprise, but certainly not a bad surprise. He kissed back, pressing even closer to his Tommy. He put his arms around Thomas's neck, and Thomas hugged his waist even tighter. The two boys stayed locked in close embrace, never wanting to leave each other's arms.

Winter was approaching rapidly, and Newt and Thomas had to work extra hard to collect food so they could make it through the winter. They collected as many nuts and berries as possible, but it wasn't enough to last them the entire winter, even with the deer, rabbit, and squirrel meat. The boys had to accept that there was no other choice than to go hunting again. As it turned out, they would have had to kill an animal whether they needed food or not. One evening, when Newt and Thomas were finishing their dinner, they heard a rustling in the trees. "Did you hear that, Tommy?", asked Newt. "Yeah, I did. I hope it's not a hunter or something-" Just then, a bear came out through the trees, stomping along towards Newt and Thomas. The boys stood there, completely still, frozen in terror. Thomas leaned down very slowly and picked up the bayonet he had stolen from the patriot camp all those months ago, in case he and Newt had to fight for their lives. The bear didn't seem to notice them, until something must have caught its eye, and it turned around and let out a loud roar, starting toward Newt and Thomas. They tried to back away slowly, but the bear lunged towards them, attempting to bite Thomas's arm. "Tommy, no!", cried Newt, who quickly pulled his friend away from the bear's sharp teeth. It roared in rage, having been unsuccessful at biting its prey, and leaped at Thomas again. This time, Thomas and Newt were both too slow to react, and the bear's teeth sank into Thomas's arm. Thomas yelped in pain and dropped his bayonet, falling to the ground. The bear, who had lunged towards Thomas with uncontrollable speed, crashed into a tree, temporarily stunned. The sight of his best friend who he loved so much defenseless on the ground filled Newt with an anger unlike any he had ever felt before. He ran up to Thomas, limp and all, and stood in front of him, shielding him from any further harm. He picked up Thomas's bayonet just in time, for the bear had just recovered from his small injury and came rushing towards Newt and Thomas. Newt raised the bayonet and yelled, "Don't you dare come near my Tommy! He's done nothing to harm you, but if you try to hurt him one more time, I swear that I will!" The bear simply roared again, and ran forward again. Big mistake on the bear's part. Newt, full of anger and fear, thrust the bayonet straight into the bear's chest. The bear howled with pain, and swiped at Newt with its claws, which lightly grazed his chest, ripping his shirt. Newt shot the (thankfully loaded) bayonet, which was still lodged in the bear's chest. With one final roar of rage and pain, the bear fell to the ground, dead. Newt pulled the bayonet away from the bear, and immediately dropped to the ground next to an unconscious Thomas, who was bleeding quite badly. Newt was filled with fear that Thomas would bleed to death, but he tried not to panic. I can fix this, he told himself. He ran over to the medical kit that Thomas had used to fix his leg and picked it up, along with the pitcher of water. Newt managed to clean out Thomas's wound, which to his relief was not as deep as it looked. He wrapped it up with some bandage from the kit, and looked down at Thomas. He seemed to be breathing still, which was a very good sign. "N-Newt?", he asked shakily. Newt was startled, but incredibly happy. He threw his arms around Thomas, his entire body shaking with sobs of relief. "Oh, Tommy!", he cried, "I killed a bear! That wretched creature almost killed us, and I have no idea what would have happened if he had bitten you in a worse place! I was so worried about you!" Newt continued to hug Thomas hard, and cried into his shoulder. Thomas felt so awful for Newt that he began to cry himself. He tried not to show it though, and used his good arm to rub Newt's back. "It's all okay now, don't worry, I'll be fine", he said softly. He pressed a kiss to Newt's head, and Newt began to relax. A horrible thought struck Thomas, and he cried out, "This is all my fault! I didn't put out the fire early enough, and it must've attracted to bear! If it weren't for me. We would've never been in this mess in the first place!". "Tommy, it's alright", said Newt. "If it weren't for you, I have no idea how we would have gotten all this food and shelter for the winter". He pointed to the dead bear. It would certainly be enough tho supply the boys for the whole winter. "We'll eat like kings!", said Thomas, giggling a little. "You're a hero, Tommy", Newt joked. "No, Newt", Thomas contradicted. "You're the hero. You're the one who killed the bear!"

Needless to say, that winter was a very peaceful one, with no stress about conserving food or supplies. Newt and Thomas's relationship only became closer, after the experience with the bear.

"Tommy, I never want to have to leave you", said Newt that spring. "I love you too much". "So stay", said Thomas. "No one says you have to join the army when you turn thirteen. We'll stay here. Together." "Just you and me, living together in the woods". Thomas and Newt said the latter in unison, ending the phrase with a soft kiss. A promise to never leave.

The End.

Thomas ran to the table and quickly slipped under the tablecloth, unseen by any British soldiers. He sat down on the dirt and took out his paper and quill pen, ready to take notes on what the British soldiers are planning to do next. He turned his head slightly, and what he saw shocked him. There was another boy under the table, who looked about the same age as Thomas, who was 12 years old. He gasped, and the other boy noticed him. "Please don't hurt me!", they said in unison, both wide-eyed with fear. The first thing Thomas noticed about this new boy is that he had a British accent. He must be on the British side of the war. The second thing he notices is the boy's eyes. They are a beautiful, dark brown, easy to get lost in. They giggle a little bit, now that they each see that the other is not a threat. "What's a Patriot like you doing here in the British camp?", asked the new boy. "Well...I'm a spy...", confessed Thomas sheepishly. Feeling the need to justify himself, he said, slightly defensively, "I don't have a family...this was my only choice. There isn't much besides spying a twelve-

year-old boy can do in a war. What about you? What are you doing under this table?" "Er...hiding...", said the boy. "I spilled a bucket of water on the general, and I needed a place to hide until he calms down and forgets what I did". The boy turned slightly pink. Thomas giggled. "What's your name?", he asked. "I'm Newt", said the boy. "I'm Thomas", said Thomas. He held out his hand and Newt shook it. They shared a small smile. "Please don't tell on me", said Thomas, suddenly anxious. "They'll surely kill me". "Don't worry, I won't say a word. I probably hate these guys as much as you do", said Newt. "I mean...I don't HATE them, exactly. I just wish I didn't have to be in a war. But it's sort of a good thing for me, I haven't got a family either..." "I wish there was peace too", said Thomas. "But I don't know where I'd go if I wasn't with the army". Suddenly there was a gunshot, and Newt and Thomas instinctively clung to each other in fear. "I should probably go", whispered Thomas. "I'll just tell them I couldn't hear anything". "Will you come back?", asked Newt shyly, not wanting his new friend to leave. Thomas saw how genuinely sad Newt seemed that he was leaving. "Same time tomorrow" was all he said before darting off into the darkness.

The next day, Thomas met Newt under the table again. They talked for a little while, almost like normal boys. They soon learned that they shared many of the same interests, and they were nearly the same age. Newt was about a half year older than Thomas and he was a couple of inches taller. The two boys soon became attached to each other, and met under the table every day. Thomas took some notes from information Newt gave him so that his daily absence wouldn't seem suspicious to the Patriots. On the fifth day, Thomas came to Newt with tears in his eyes. "We're moving camp the day after tomorrow", he said, starting to sniffle. "I don't wanna leave you. You're the only friend I've ever had!". "Oh, Tommy", sighed Newt, starting to cry a little himself. "I'm gonna miss you so much". He leaned against Thomas and wrapped his arms around his friend. Thomas rested his had on Newt's shoulder and just cried. They sat there for a few minutes until Newt had an idea. "Wait! Tommy!", he exclaimed. "Maybe we haven't lost all hope! Tomorrow, come back here with all your belongings. I'll bring mine as well. We can sneak away into that forest over there and live in peace away from the war. We aren't very important to the armies anyway". Thomas lights up at that idea! "It's brilliant! I will be very glad to leave, the soldiers never really treated me well anyways. They'd always hit me if I did something wrong, and didn't treat me as an equal". "Then it's settled!", sad Newt happily. "See you tomorrow, Tommy".

When Thomas got back to camp, the soldier who took his findings about the British army's plans informed him that there was a change of plans and they were actually leaving tomorrow, so he wouldn't need to go spy on the British again. At first, Thomas panicked, but he didn't show it. At dinner, if you could call dried fish and stale crackers dinner, Thomas hatched a plan. That night, he took all his belongings and tied them up in a cloth. He tied the cloth around a spare wooden pole he found by the fire earlier that evening and the quietly snuck out of his sleeping tent, tiptoeing around the now-blackened fire pit, past the general's tent, and out of the camp. On the way to the British camp, it began to rain. Thomas picked up his pace, and eventually broke into a run. He found shelter and a good hiding place under the table where he and Newt always met, glad of the dryness of the dirt floor. It was slightly warmer under the table too, and Thomas was able to lull himself to sleep with thoughts of seeing Newt again and the sound of the rain pounding against the tabletop.

Thomas woke up to the morning light. How odd, he thought. Then he realized that he was no longer under the table. He blinked a few times and sat up. He was greeted with the rather unpleasant image of three redcoats looking down at him, bayonets pointed at his heart. "I-I was just-", Thomas tried to make up an explanation, but was quickly interrupted by one of the soldiers. "I don't want to hear your excuses, boy. They will only hurt you more. Now, you're going to tell us-" "WAIT! Don't hurt him! Please, don't hurt Tommy!". A familiar voice, full of desperation and fear cried. Newt was running towards Thomas his face white and terrified. "Stay out of it, traitor! What have you been doing, fraternizing with the enemy!?", said the soldier who had spoken earlier, his voice harsh and angry. "We'll deal with you later". At that moment, Thomas slipped between the soldiers, running towards Newt. He reached his friend and grabbed his hand, still running. "We've got to get out of here!", he cried. The boys ran together, hand in hand, out of the camp. The soldiers began to shoot at them, yelling angry words and curses. Newt and Thomas were almost at the edge of the woods when Newt cried out in pain. "Tommy, my leg!". Thomas knew they had to keep going, so he dragged Newt along with him, and they disappeared into the woods, where they knew the British soldiers wouldn't bother to follow them.

Thomas continued along, his pace slowing now that he was in the woods. He soon found an empty spot and set Newt down there. "Newt, everything's gonna be okay. You'll be okay", he said in a reassuring voice. "I'll take care of you". And with that, Thomas placed a tender kiss on Newt's forehead. Newt smiled up at him. Thomas smiled back. "Now, let's take a look at that leg of yours", he said. Luckily, Thomas had stolen a small medical kit from his camp before running away (as well as a bayonet and few bullets, some food rations, and a canteen) and he was able to expertly clan and dress Newt's wound. Newt had been shot, but thankfully the bullet had only grazed his leg, so the wound wasn't fatefully deep. Thomas declared that Newt would be fine in a few weeks. As it turned out, Thomas had quite a gift in medicine. "So...I guess we'll be living here now", said Newt. "We'll finally have some peace".

Soon, Thomas had constructed a small shelter for himself and Newt to sleep in out of sticks and branches, leaves, and the big cloth that held his belongings. Newt volunteered to help, but Thomas insisted that he rest for the time being. Reluctantly, Newt obliged. Thomas built a fire a little ways from their makeshift shelter, and dragged a single log over for them to sit on while they ate their meals. That night he helped Newt walk over to the fire and sit on the log, then sat next to him after he started the fire. "I wish I wasn't so immobile. I feel pathetic", Newt sighed. "It's no big deal. You'll recover soon enough", said Thomas, reaching over and taking Newt's hand, rubbing circles in the back of his hand.

Thomas had been right. Newt recovered quite quickly, although his leg healed funny, leaving him with a slight limp. The two boys grew progressively closer, and their connection ran deeper than just friends...although they weren't exactly sure of their feelings. One night, Newt and Thomas were laying in their "bed", which was pretty much a bunch of blankets under their makeshift shelter, which they shared, just trying to fall asleep, but with much trouble. They had both begun to get anxiety for fear of the soldiers finding them, even though they knew the idea was preposterous. Thomas moved over and snuggled against Newt. Newt gave a contented sigh and leaned into his best friend. He thought about these strange feelings he had begun to get whenever he looked at or touched Thomas, how he longed hold him even closer and never leave. He wanted to say something, but he was scared that Thomas didn't feel the same way. Soon, Thomas fell asleep, and Newt managed to do the same shortly after, putting aside his feelings and worries about Thomas.

Winter was approaching, and Thomas's and Newt's anxiety was growing. They didn't really have the materials to make an insulated shelter, and their clothes were not warm enough for winter. There seemed to be only one option: they would have to go hunting. Neither boy was very excited about having to kill an animal, but it seemed that they needed the fur-and they could also use the bones for part of the shelter's structure. They would also eat the animal's meat-it would be the first meat they had to eat in almost a year-which would be a nice change from their usual nuts and berries. "I'm scared, Tommy", said Newt in a small voice one crisp autumn morning. He shivered as a particularly cold gust of wind blew into him. Thomas was scared too, but not as much as Newt, so he tried to put on a brave face and comfort him. He walked over and wrapped his arms around his friend, hugging him tightly. He whispered, "Everything will work out, Newt. As long as we have each other, we will be just fine". Newt seemed to relax in Thomas's arms, and leaned his head against his friend's shoulder. Thomas pressed a kiss to Newt's hair, and Newt made a little noise of contentment.He is so adorable, thought Thomas.I love him so much...wait, what?! I can't love Newt, he's my best friend! He would never like me back...would he?"Newt, I think we should start hunting now", said Thomas, patting Newt's hair gently. "We need to start on a warmer shelter and clothes as soon as we can". Newt pulled away from Thomas's embrace, slightly red in the face. "Right...er...we should be getting a move on", he said.

As it turned out, Newt and Thomas had quite a knack for hunting-Thomas being somewhat more skilled than Newt-although they still didn't like the idea of killing, so they did not plan to make it a regular thing. Nonetheless, the boys had managed to kill a deer (but they had made sure there were no babies around, they didn't want to leave helpless baby deer without parents) as well as two rabbits and a squirrel. Now Newt and Thomas were met with a new challenge-cleaning, cutting, and cooking the dead deer. The idea of skinning and cutting the deer made Thomas queasy, so Newt did that part by himself. Once he had skinned the deer as best he could, he gave the skin to Thomas to wash in the creek nearby. Then he proceeded to expertly cut all the meat off the deer, then cut it into strips and cubes. He set aside the bones for Thomas to clean when came back with the deer's skin. Satisfied with his work, Newt laid back against a tree and closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Thomas was attempting to clean the deer's skin at the creek without being sick. Most of the blood and gore was gone, to Thomas's relief. He scrubbed at the skin for a bit longer, then wrung it out and started heading back to his and Newt's "home". When he got back, he built a makeshift drying rack and hung the skin on it. He saw Newt leaned against a tree with a pile of cut-up meat and a pile of bones next to him. He seemed to be sleeping, and he looked beautiful to Thomas. Thomas went over to Newt and sat next to him, leaning against the tree as well. He gently moved Newt's hair off his forehead, smiling at the angelic expression on his face. Newt made a small noise of contentment and leaned into Thomas's touch, opening his eyes slowly and grinning. "Good afternoon, Newt", said Thomas formally. "Fancy seeing you here". Newt giggled and swatted him on the shoulder, making Thomas smile even wider. He decided to play along with Thomas's joke. "How are you this fine day, Thomas?", he said. "Absolutely marvellous, thank you very much", Thomas replied, struggling to keep a straight face. Newt started giggling uncontrollably, which set Thomas off. They fell into a heap of laughter and didn't stop for a while. Newt slumped over onto Thomas's lap, still laughing a little bit. Thomas took a deep breath, then let it out. "We should begin building the structure of our winter shelter", he said quietly, laying a hand gently on Newt's shoulder. "You're right", said Newt. "Let's get started".

Newt and Thomas proceeded to build their shelter's structure out of strong and sturdy branches, logs, and deer bones, finally draping the now-dry deerskin over the top. They put the blankets from their other shelter in it, making a nest-like 'bed' for themselves like the one in their other shelter. That night, after a dinner of cooked deer meat and berries, the boys laid in their nest of blankets and talked about the approaching winter, how the weather was getting colder by the day. Newt shivered just thinking about it, and Thomas scooted over and wrapped his arms around him, hoping he would warm up. Newt loved it when Thomas did that. It made him feel warmer on the inside as well as the outside. He especially liked those rare occasions when Thomas tenderly kissed the top of his head or his forehead, like he was doing now. How he wished he could get up the courage to kiss Thomas on the lips. He wondered how that would feel. It seemed like it would feel very soft and warm. The feelings he had for his best (and only) friend were unlike any he had felt for anyone he'd ever met before. With a sudden rush of courage, he said, "Tommy, I've got something to tell you. Please don't be mad at me...". "I could never be mad at you!", said Thomas. "You're my best friend! And my only one, but forget that". Newt took a deep breath and continued. "So, lately, I've been

feeling...odd...around...around you. And I just...I...never mind, I don't think it's important". Newt, suddenly self concious, got up and started to walk away. "Wait, Newt!", said Thomas, following his friend. Newt kept walking. He figured he was just about to get rejected. Thomas was running after him now, and when he finally caught up, he spun Newt around so they were facing each other. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Newt, and pressed their foreheads together. "Newt, listen to me", he said. "I know exactly how you feel, because I feel just the same. I think I love you". He smiled. Then, he tilted his head slightly, closed m his eyes, and pressed his lips to Newt's. Newt was taken by surprise, but certainly not a bad surprise. He kissed back, pressing even closer to his Tommy. He put his arms around Thomas's neck, and Thomas hugged his waist even tighter. The two boys stayed locked in close embrace, never wanting to leave each other's arms.

Winter was approaching rapidly, and Newt and Thomas had to work extra hard to collect food so they could make it through the winter. They collected as many nuts and berries as possible, but it wasn't enough to last them the entire winter, even with the deer, rabbit, and squirrel meat. The boys had to accept that there was no other choice than to go hunting again. As it turned out, they would have had to kill an animal whether they needed food or not. One evening, when Newt and Thomas were finishing their dinner, they heard a rustling in the trees. "Did you hear that, Tommy?", asked Newt. "Yeah, I did. I hope it's not a hunter or something-" Just then, a bear came out through the trees, stomping along towards Newt and Thomas. The boys stood there, completely still, frozen in terror. Thomas leaned down very slowly and picked up the bayonet he had stolen from the patriot camp all those months ago, in case he and Newt had to fight for their lives. The bear didn't seem to notice them, until something must have caught its eye, and it turned around and let out a loud roar, starting toward Newt and Thomas. They tried to back away slowly, but the bear lunged towards them, attempting to bite Thomas's arm. "Tommy, no!", cried Newt, who quickly pulled his friend away from the bear's sharp teeth. It roared in rage, having been unsuccessful at biting its prey, and leaped at Thomas again. This time, Thomas and Newt were both too slow to react, and the bear's teeth sank into Thomas's arm. Thomas yelped in pain and dropped his bayonet, falling to the ground. The bear, who had lunged towards Thomas with uncontrollable speed, crashed into a tree, temporarily stunned. The sight of his best friend who he loved so much defenseless on the ground filled Newt with an anger unlike any he had ever felt before. He ran up to Thomas, limp and all, and stood in front of him, shielding him from any further harm. He picked up Thomas's bayonet just in time, for the bear had just recovered from his small injury and came rushing towards Newt and Thomas. Newt raised the bayonet and yelled, "Don't you dare come near my Tommy! He's done nothing to harm you, but if you try to hurt him one more time, I swear thatI will!" The bear simply roared again, and ran forward again. Big mistake on the bear's part. Newt, full of anger and fear, thrust the bayonet straight into the bear's chest. The bear howled with pain, and swiped at Newt with its claws, which lightly grazed his chest, ripping his shirt. Newt shot the (thankfully loaded) bayonet, which was still lodged in the bear's chest. With one final roar of rage and pain, the bear fell to the ground, dead. Newt pulled the bayonet away from the bear, and immediately dropped to the ground next to an unconscious Thomas, who was bleeding quite badly. Newt was filled with fear that Thomas would bleed to death, but he tried not to panic.I can fix this, he told himself. He ran over to the medical kit that Thomas had used to fix his leg and picked it up, along with the pitcher of water. Newt managed to clean out Thomas's wound, which to his relief was not as deep as it looked. He wrapped it up with some bandage from the kit, and looked down at Thomas. He seemed to be breathing still, which was a very good sign. "N-Newt?", he asked shakily. Newt was startled, but incredibly happy. He threw his arms around Thomas, his entire body shaking with sobs of relief. "Oh, Tommy!", he cried, "I killed a bear! That wretched creature almost killed us, and I have no idea what would have happened if he had bitten you in a worse place! I was so worried about you!" Newt continued to hug Thomas hard, and cried into his shoulder. Thomas felt so awful for Newt that he began to cry himself. He tried not to show it though, and used his good arm to rub Newt's back. "It's all okay now, don't worry, I'll be fine", he said softly. He pressed a kiss to Newt's head, and Newt began to relax. A horrible thought struck Thomas, and he cried out, "This is all my fault! I didn't put out the fire early enough, and it must've attracted to bear! If it weren't for me. We would've never been in this mess in the first place!". "Tommy, it's alright", said Newt. "If it weren't for you, I have no idea how we would have gotten all this food and shelter for the winter". He said, pointing to the dead bear. It would certainly be enough tho supply the boys for the whole winter. "We'll eat like kings!", said Thomas, giggling a little. "You're a hero, Tommy", Newt joked. "No, Newt", Thomas contradicted. "You're the hero. You're the one who killed the bear!

Needless to say, the rest of the winter remained stress-free for Newt and Thomas. They lived happily ever after. The end. Because that's how I want to end it. Don't judge.