A/N: Written for the Digimon Flash Bingo Challenge on the Digimon Fanfiction Challenges Forum (link on profile). This drabble is for number 162, prompt: the whispering wood.
in a forest full of memories
The leaves rustled, supressing their laughs and teasing whispers, and Wormmon remembered the sound of a different giggle dancing through the trees. Remembered the flaps of cloth against flesh and bark, the crunch of fallen twigs underneath worn-out slippers, the wind running to keep up as a carefree boy dashed about like a haze.
That was before Gennai had caught up with them, with the Digivice and their duties in a nice little package. Before Wormmon had even known he was destined to be more than just a friend to little Ichijouji Ken. When he'd stumbled across the boy trying to play with a lone and befuddled Woodmon – who, surprisingly, hadn't leeched the life out of the human at first touch. When Wormmon had knocked him out of the way, resulting in a skinned knee. When the two Digimon had stared each other down, until the human boy got in between and convinced them otherwise.
They'd had a lot of fun that afternoon, playing hide and seek and tag and all sorts of other games that were shared between worlds. Wormmon couldn't have been happier; as a virus-type, he didn't have many friends amongst the forest digimon. Virus types kept to their own kind after all, and Wormmon in the area were rare. He'd usually play by himself – but that day there was Ken and the Woodmon, and they had a blast running around all afternoon, then collecting things for a dinner afterwards. Wormmon's Silk Thread reached up to the higher fruits. Woodmon's splinters created the fire. Ken's fingers were able to pick berries: a finesse most non-humanoid Digimon lacked.
That had been Ken's first day in the Digital World, and Wormmon's favourite time spent with him – because Gennai had come that evening, and the carefree boy had the burden of a Chosen placed upon him. And now he was gone, back to his own world, but those memories remained and Wormmon could spend an afternoon chasing after the teasing whispers of the trees…and, when Woodmon was feeling nostalgic as well, the pair of them could dash through the forest with the wind on their backs and the shadow of their mutual friend between them.