By the time God's Will permitted Rachel through, Baam was already thoroughly sick of contemplating the nature of rocks. Perhaps had he continued, he would have found enlightenment in the endless forms the Earth provided, yet enlightenment in such stony silence interested him not a bit. So he got up with great eagerness, abandoning all prior thought, and welcomed Rachel with his whole heart.

And yet she did not return it. The smile she offered was complicated, sad and wistful all at the same time.

"Hello Baam."

"Hello Rachel." He echoed.

Something suddenly drew his eye, something held tightly in her left hand. It was…long, like his arm, but bore no texture he recognized, save…

"Ah, it's a branch."

"That's right, this is a branch." Hefting it, she proffered it to Baam. "It's your branch, now."

Baam blinked. "My branch? What for?"

"You're going to learn to use it." Her eyes sharpened to a determined shine. "Baam, answer me honestly. If being strong meant losing people you care for, would you pursue it?"

"Of course not!" He shot back, horrified.

"Even if it meant lacking the strength to protect your other friends?"

"Of.." he hesitated. "Can't I have both?"

Her eyes warmed a little, and she giggled slightly into her hand. "You can." The other hand rose and pointed at the branch. "That's why you're going to learn how to use this."

Baam hefted it in a two handed grip, the weight pulling at his shoulders. Gnarled and whorled, the branch was heavy and somewhat painful to hold. The thick object pulled at the skin of his palms, resting painfully on his bones and tightened the skin under his fingers uncomfortably. They stuck to it too, somehow suckered to the uneven surface. And yet, behind its weight lay an uncomfortable malice, the implicit promise of harm.

"Will…will this make me strong?"

"No, not really." His surprised eyes made their way to her steady ones. "You'd be better off without it, to be honest. Incomparably stronger."

"Then why…"

"Baam, do you know what the scariest way to fight someone is?"

He bit his lip and hummed, chewing on it a little in a very similar manner to how Rachel had done a few days ago. "...murderously?"

She snorted involuntarily, doubling over with a reddened face. She stayed like that for a few seconds before straightening up with an obvious warble to her voice. "That-That's true Baam. That is, in fact, the most dangerous way to fight."

His face brightened, and he felt Rachel's hand come up to gently brush his hair. He fought not to lean into it, as he had started making Rachel sad when he did. Instead, he held very very still, focusing only on the warmth of her hand on his head. The only touch he could ever remember feeling.

"The scariest way to fight, Baam, is from a distance." Her voice said absently. Baam tried to focus on her words, somehow knowing they were important to her, yet the warm haze pulled him back. "Far, far away, from where they can barely make out your face or see your expression. Where no one can tell who you are from what they see."

The warm haze drained away, leaving behind a sober apprehension.

"Better to fight with this." Her voice was trembling. Baam didn't want to look up. "Far, far better to fight this way. Charging in face to face, where you can see them and they can see you, and you can talk to them like you always…"

Always what?

"Even if you're weaker Baam, try and fight with this. I-I don't have the...I can't, butyou, maybe you can." Her hand was heavy on his head. "So run up to them Baam. Like you're going to embrace them, run up and have it out. That way, you can find the acceptance you've wanted."

The branch was nearly crushing now in weight; the unspoken threat it held far greater than before. Baam felt it pulling on his arms, yanking them down as if to tear them from his shoulders.

"So what is this, then." He said, slightly hoarse.

Rachel stepped back, and Baam would have given nearly anything for even that uncomfortable warmth to return. "It's a needle."

Baam looked at the branch. Spiny, somewhat split, rough and somewhat brittle at the tip. "This is what a needle looks like?"

"No." She replied, still somewhat flustered. "No, uh, but it's supposed to emulate one."

He cocked his head. "Really?"

She nodded in slight relief at his acceptance. "Yes. I thought about a sword, but cutting and bleeding…" she swallowed a little. "It doesn't suit you. So take a needle like that and beat them with it until they listen to you."

"I thought needles were pointy though."

"Most are. This one is blunt so you don't poke your eye out."

Baam's hand involuntarily flinched as he slapped it over his face.

Rachel burst into sudden laughter as he stood there, one hand covering his eyes, other trying and failing to lift the heavy branch.

He felt himself redden in shame, but the pleasure at her renewed joy washed it away. Suddenly the branch felt lighter, and he could almost lift it up. He wanted to do this now, to show her. To make her happy.

Both hands went down to grip it, one hand over the other, and he slowly lifted the tip to eye height, before lurching forward and letting it fall tip-first to the earth.

"Like this?" He asked.

"You nailed it!" She cheered, giggles fountaining out of her.

He felt giddy, the infectious sound bolstering his strength. He lifted it up again, this time the tip going far over his head, before he swung it down. However, as it went down, he felt some strange pressure grab the stick from the other end, sending it wildly off course and at an arc ti his side. The tip exploded into a shower of little splinters as it hit the ground, sending him spinning to the side where he fell over.

He coughed roughly, dust and grit rising from around him. "Did-did I do it right?"

Her laughter redoubled, exploding from her chest in a giddy wave.

He sprang to his feet, seizing the branch with an already growing fondness and raising it with reckless speed overhead. "I'm doing it!"

Rachel applauded and cheered every time he raised it and let it fall, tears springing to her eyes as they both cavorted and screamed raucously.

"Did I do it?!" He yelled, drunk on his own emotions.

"You did!" She laughed and laughed and laughed endlessly and it was all Baam could do to keep going, to never let that sound ever end.

Swing, thrust, scream, fall, yell, rise, again.


"Did you see that?!"

"You raised it so high!"


"I'm doing it Rachel!"

"I'm watching, keep going!"


"Am I still doing it right?"

"I've never seen better."


"You're still watching?"

"Always. I promise."