To Gather
"Ah ha!" Tormod's brilliant voice rang out across the cluster of hills, "no food indeed!"
Muarim ambled up to the hilltop just as Tormod descended the other side in a flat out run, a whirl of flapping red robes as bright as the fruit he was dashing towards. Vika drifted lazily up beside the tiger sighing,
"There he goes again…" Muarim chuckled at the lethargic bird, a quaking rumble deep in his barrel chest. The two laguz strolled casually down the hill after the loose-cannon mage now hopping desperately beneath the apple tree.
"Too," the redhead forced as he crashed pathetically down to earth, "too high!" he shouted to no one in particular as he again sprang upward into gravity's waiting embrace, plummeting in seconds. Vika, the most helpful of the three in this situation, proceeded to flutter right by the infuriated flame wielder and recline against the less noisy side of the wide trunked tree. "Vika!" the reprimand burst sharply from Tormod's air-lacking lungs and Muarim laughed again as the call fell on deaf ears.
Tormod blinked in surprise, anger forgotten instantly, as he felt a strange rising sensation and- tok!- felt his head bump the fruit he so energetically pursued. He looked down, a grin spreading across his rage-tinged features, at Muarim gazing kindly up, holding securely yet gently the mage's dangling ankles. The younger man scanned the new view from his perch on Muarim's shoulders excitedly before hastily snatching as many apples as he could from the branches surrounding him.
"Duck," commanded the tiger as he repositioned his gathering friend. Tormod clutched his apples to his chest and hunched over, head resting on the smoothness of Maurim's bandana.
He (accidentally) breathed in the delicate, familiar scent of cats (the aroma filled his sense warmly).
He sat up and deposited the current load of fruit in a pouch tied to his belt, hand (accidentally) brushing the dark sideburns on Muarim's jaw (the fur tickled his wrist pleasantly).
Tormod grinned and (purposefully) slid his arms around his companion's head, hugging all he could hold with his much smaller self and said,
"Together, we're taller than Sothe."
Muarim (purposefully) patted his little one's leg, smiling at the age-old battle of heights and replied,
"Together, indeed."