One quick question: Is anyone interested in me writing a story about Helmer? I've got a bunch of ideas but I'm not sure yet if I should go through with them.
Prompt: Write a story about a smell-good or bad.
Smalls slowed to a walk, inhaling deeply. Finally. He'd bolted from the palace the moment Whit had started shouting. He hadn't been involved in this argument, and he hadn't, frankly, even known what it was about. Something bad because Winslow was getting involved, and Winslow never got involved if he could help it. All Smalls knew was that if he stayed, he would only get dragged further into the drama and that was the last thing he wanted.
At least the forest didn't scream at him whenever he walked into a room. Well, the woods didn't have rooms-clearings? Whatever.
He'd always preferred being outside to inside. He felt trapped under a roof, unable to get out. He could only stand it so long. Far off, he could hear the city wall being reinforced. The screech of a raptor and the scream of death, and he winced. Wilfred said they wouldn't stay in the First Warren much longer. They couldn't. Smalls was secretly grateful. Evan and Asher were already gone-sent to Blackstone. He missed them so much he felt sick sometimes, especially when he had to listen to the arguing in the palace. It was often.
The thing he thought he'd miss the most was the forest outside. He'd grown up wandering in it, sometimes with Evan, sometimes with Asher, sometimes all three of them, but mostly by himself. It was ironic but he felt much safer in the woods than he ever had in the palace. Maybe it was just because the forest never blackmailed, gaslighted, or manipulated him in any other way. It simply was, indifferent to the world and the lives happening in and around it.
The biggest difference, to him at least, were the smells he associated with the two places. The palace always reeked of smoke now, and often meat (Smalls didn't want to think about where that came from) for the raptors and hawks. If Daggler had been doing his dirty work the entire complex would carry the stench of blood and death for days. And after that had been cleaned up-then it would smell sterile and stale, a combination Smalls decidedly hated.
The forest, on the other hand, had different scents depending on the season. Autumn was the most potent. In Autumn, after the leaves were gone, the pine scent took over and soon the entire city smelled of it. Apples, and different nuts also carried distinct fragrances that always, without fail, suddenly made Smalls very hungry. He and Evan used to have a contest to see who could collect the most. They made Asher the judge because Evan (And Smalls too if he was being honest) never told the truth on how many he had gathered.
"I have ninety!"
"Well, I have ninety-five!"
"No, you don't, Asher, he's lying."
Asher played the judge willingly as long as he was allowed to have half of each of there pickings. It wasn't until Smalls was about ten years old that he realized this was a massive rip-off, but they still did it anyways.
The best part was when they found an apple tree. Then there really was a scramble between them to get at the fruit-even though they shared afterwards. It was just fun to see who could get the most.
"Bet you a quarter you can't get that one up there!"
"I don't think it can hold me…."
"Coward."
"Hey!"
And that was how Smalls had first broken his arm. Evan had given him a quarter and a dime to make up for it. In foresight, that had not been his smartest decision.
But the hands down best part was the one year Evan had convinced them to nick a couple of pumpkin pies. Sure-they'd gotten in trouble after, but it was worth it. And it wasn't like there was any physical evidence left by the time Edward and Wilfred had caught up with them, it was Asher's conscience that had really landed them in trouble. The following week, during which they had been trapped in doors, grounded, they all agreed that it was worth it. Two pumpkin pies versus a week of confinement? Smalls would take the confinement, or he would have at age nine.
"Smalden Joveson!" He winced at the shout and sighed. Someone must have noticed he was gone. Two more days. Just two days. He reminded himself. Then you'll never have to look at this place again.
