-O-

Taming Branch

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Seven

Hug Me Not

Author's Note: I revised one of the scenes in chapter 6, where Poppy is trying to convince Branch to laugh.

She'd made sure to come early, but Branch was already waiting for her as she entered the meadow. As she got closer Poppy gave him a nervous glance, trying to read his expression. He didn't seem happy to see her, but he didn't look angry, either. He merely watched her approach with a serious look on his face. On any other troll that would be a bad sign, but Branch always looked serious, so that was no help.

Her belly felt uneasy. Would he apologize for his part in their fight? Or would he make her leave?

He surprised her by doing neither. "I was thinking about what you said yesterday," he said abruptly. "Does not being able to hug me really make you feel that bad?"

Poppy perked up. It was the first time Branch had ever voluntarily mentioned hugs. Maybe it was his way of apologizing for yesterday. The pink princess set her treat basket in the grass and put on her saddest cuddle-pup face, all big eyes and wobbly lower lip. "Uh-huh."

It had the same effect on Branch as it did on her father. "Well…"

Poppy clasped her hands together, letting her eyes get even bigger and more shimmery.

Branch caved. Looking supremely uncomfortable, he muttered, "I don't want you to feel bad, so I guess… Even though I don't need hugs… The next time your Hug Time watch goes off…

She clasped her hands together, her eyes practically glowing with hope. "Oh, say it, say it…"

"You can hug me. Just this once." He lifted his forefinger in front of her face. "One hug. One. Got that?"

"Yesss!" Poppy pumped her fists in front of her and squealed in excitement. "Whatever you say, Branch!"

He shook his head at her excitement, but he was smiling.

I knew it! I was right all along. She could feel her confidence come rushing back, driving out every other bad feeling that had plagued her on the way over. I knew I hadn't misjudged him that badly.

Her spirits were soaring. If Branch was willing to let her hug him just because she wanted to, did that mean he cared about her, as much as she already cared for him? Or had he just finally begun to accept that he actually wanted trolly things like laughter and hugs after all? Maybe it's easier to go along with "my" need than to admit that he wants and needs hugs just as much as I do. I'll have to work with him on that, but one thing at a time. Hugs first!

The next Hug Time would be in just a few minutes. Branch walked around nervously, fiddling with the leaves on this bush or that, while Poppy watched him in amused sympathy. He doesn't think he'll like it, but I'm sure he will. I'll give him the most super-special hug ever and he'll be all, "Oh, so this is what I've been missing all this time," and he'll hug me back, and be happy. Maybe his colors will even come back!

Finally the big moment arrived. With a flash of cheery pink light, the flower on her wrist opened. Its tiny ting seemed as loud as one of Cooper's fireworks.

Branch tensed as she walked toward him. His wary expression looked more like he was facing a growlbeast instead of a cute, friendly fellow troll. Actually, he'd probably be more comfortable facing a growlbeast, she thought with a grin.

Their bodies made contact – not. At the last moment he somehow slid aside, smoothly escaping her grasping arms. Exactly as he had when they'd met that day in the forest. She made eye contact with him, and he looked to the side. "Sorry. Reflex."

"No problem," she assured him. Hmm. Maybe if I go reeeally slow… As if she were playing a game of Slow-Mo, Poppy lifted her arms at a glacial pace. She moved them to either side of him and gradually closed them…on empty air. At the last second, he'd ducked under them. She dropped her arms to her side. "Branch, I thought you said you'd let me hug you."

He gave her a sheepish glance. "I know. I'm sorry."

She tried again, and again, and each time he managed to evade her, slipping past her grasp her as if her arms were red-hot and he was a marshmallow. Is he messing with me? "Hold still, Branch!"

"Look, I'm trying, okay! This isn't easy for me, you know?"

After a dozen tries Poppy was strongly tempted to just grab him with her hair so he couldn't escape. This was getting silly. He'd agreed to be hugged, but at this rate, he'd never let her do it!

There was another reason. As the princess, Poppy knew there were times when she had to be firm and insist that certain trolls did what they needed to do, for their own good. He'll thank me, once I hug him and he finally realizes he's been scared of hugs for no reason.

She twirled her hair into a lasso. His ears went up, and he bolted.

"Hey! Come back here! You promised me a hug! Braanch!"

He ran; she followed. He ducked and dodged, twisted and twirled. He jumped over her hair-lasso and did the splits under it, always just out of reach. Just like when they'd met, he was everywhere else but where she wanted him to be; in her arms.

Yet he didn't actually leave the meadow. If he truly wanted to get away from me, he would have, she decided. That means he really does want to hug me. So why is he- A sudden notion struck her. "Is this your idea of a game?" she called to him, a big grin on her face.

"I don't play games!" he called back, but it seemed to her that some of his tension left him. He looked at her over his shoulder, and she felt it again. That little zing. The same spark she'd felt between them as the time she'd accepted his challenge to wear her Hug Time watch and not hug him. Well, she'd won that challenge, and she was going to win this one, too!

"I'm gonna catch youuuu," she said teasingly. "And then I'm gonna hug youuuu. And it will be great! You'll see."

She could have sworn she heard him chuckle.

The young princess lost track of the time, chasing her friend around and around the large meadow. Sometimes she was sure he let her get close, slipping through her fingers or her hair by, well, a hair. Other times he hid behind a rock or a bush, using his gray skin to his advantage to disappear into shadows.

It was frustrating in one way, but in another way, she was happy. For the first time, she felt like she was truly relating to him, playing with him as if he were one of her village friends.

She chased him so long she started to get tired and sweaty, but determinedly kept going. Surely he was getting tired, too? Sooner or later he'd misjudge, and she'd have him, and then he would have to reward her efforts with a good, long, close hug. And hair, she'd earned this hug…

Suddenly he was gone. She twirled in a circle, but he was nowhere to be found. She gulped air, grateful for the chance to rest a little. Man, I've gotta step up my workout. Too much yoga, not enough cardio.

Branch must have been tired too, and found someplace to take a break. After looking around, Poppy used her hair to springboard her to the top of a tall, thin boulder. I can rest for a minute and look for him at the same time.

As she gazed down at the grass surrounding the boulder, she noticed that the shadow extending from the base of the boulder had a troll-shaped extension on one side. Poppy smiled. Gotcha, my crafty little foxfluff.

She made a birdcage of her hair and dropped it around the entire boulder, trapping him in with it.

"Hey! Let me out."

"Well, what do you know? The trap-maker becomes the trap-ee." She giggled in delight at her success. "Did I ever tell you I'm a Boss Level at Hide-and-Seek?"

"Congratulations. Now let me out!" She felt him pushing against her hair, probably with his own hair.

"Not so fast. There's still the not-so-little matter of a certain long-awaited promised hug, I believe?"

"Let me out, Poppy! I mean it!" His voice changed, going high-pitched and wobbly. The pushing against her hair grew frantic. "Lemmie out now! PLEASE!"

Too late, she saw she'd gone too far. He was panicking.

Immediately she retracted her hair, and he dashed away from the boulder. Halfway across the meadow, he dove into a clump of bushes. He didn't appear on the other side. One didn't have to be a Boss Level at Hide-and-Seek to know he was hiding from her.

Poppy bit her lip but decided not to follow him. She'd pushed her skittish forest friend a little too far. He needed time and space to recover from his freakout. He'll be all right, she told herself. If he really wanted to get away from me, he'd have gone into the forest. I remember he used to get like this when we were younger. He disappear for awhile and then come back in a better mood. He said he needed something called "alone-time." Once he calms down, he'll come out, she decided. I'll apologize to him, and we'll hug it out. Not quite the way I pictured our first hug, but it's a start.

She gave him a good ten minutes, but he didn't come out. Okay, five more minutes. When those five minutes were up she gave him five more. And then another five…

Half an hour after their ill fated "game", he was still holed up in the bush. Is he that mad at me? Maybe he'd gotten worn out by all the running around and fallen asleep in there. Either way, she couldn't wait much longer. Her dad would be expecting her for dinner, and she didn't want to worry him by being late.

She jumped down from the boulder and slowly approached the bushes. "Hey, Branch?" she called tentatively. "You okay in there?"

If he heard her, he didn't answer.

"Listen, I have to head home soon, but I don't want to do that without making up with you first."

Silence.

"Please come out, Branch. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

She waited, but there was no response. Her shoulders drooped. "Okay, Branch. I guess you want to be alone right now. I'll see you tomorrow." She turned away, her head lowered, and began shuffling slowly through the grass.

"Wait."

Her eyes lit up and she turned to face him as he emerged from the bush. As he approached her, he wrapped his arms around his body as if to prevent her from hugging him. Or to protect himself. From her?

Her heart went out to him. Aww…

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I truly didn't mean to scare you, Branch. I thought you were playing a game of tag with me, like I play with my other friends."

He looked astonished. His arms dropped down by his sides. "Really?"

She nodded. "I was having a lot of fun. Weren't you?"

"I…think so?" He didn't look as if he were sure. "Maybe."

She gave him a warm smile. "Trust me, Branch. I know fun, and that's what we were having."

His blank look gradually changed to look of wonder. And then, a small smile.

Poppy softened her tone. "You know, sometimes I get carried away, but I would never want to hurt you, Branch. You believe me, don't you?"

"Well," he said after a short hesitation. "I believe that your intentions are good, yes."

Poppy broke into a great big smile. He trusts me! "I'm so glad to hear that, Branch!" She opened her arms and walked toward him.

He backed away.

She stopped. "Wha- I thought you accepted my apology."

"I do. But I'm still not hugging you."

"What? Why? Do you honestly think you won't like it?" She dragged her hands down her face. "Shouldn't you at least try it first? Who knows? You might be surprised."

"I'm sorry, but I can't." He did look sorry, but resolute.

"All I want is one little hug, Branch. It's not going to kill you."

"No."

She recalled Milton's advice. "If you let me hug you, I'll brush your hair," she offered enticingly. "Or you can brush mine, if you want."

"No, thanks."

"Branch, pleeease…" she wheedled, bouncing on her toes. "I need to hug you. Besides, you promised."

He winced at that, but crossed his arms again. "I said 'no'. I'm not hugging you, and you can't make me!"

At this show of stubbornness, her temper flared. "Oh, for hair's sake, from the way you're acting, you'd think I was a bergen," she complained without thinking. "Or you are. Bergens don't hug, do they? They-"

Branch gasped, his eyes wide with shock. Poppy stopped talking, but it was too late.

His face twisted. "I'm NOT a bergen!" he shouted at her, his voice cracking with venom and pain. Then the gray troll tore off the vest she'd made for him and hurled it to the ground. He gave her the most furious glare she had ever seen on a troll's face, so fierce she stepped back a pace, but even through his fury she could see the deep wound she'd inflicted on him.

Instant remorse overwhelmed her. "Branch, I'm s-"

"You like hugs? Go hug a tree. I'm sure you'll like it better than me!" he snarled, then turned and plunged into the forest before she could stop him.

She stared after him, her mouth hanging open. He left the meadow.

She started to follow him, then hesitated. Should I go after him, or give him some time to calm down? Giving him some alone-time seemed to help earlier, but…

The tender–hearted troll wavered, wanting desperately to go to her friend and comfort him; to heal the hurt she had caused. Her mind was a swirling mess of regret, worry, and sadness. I hope he'll be all right out there. Oh, why didn't I think before I spoke?

Her eye fell on his discarded vest, still lying in a heap on the ground where he had so vehemently divested himself of her gift. Dazedly she picked it up, noting that some of the stitches had torn loose. I'll fix it tonight. In fact, I'll reinforce the entire vest to make it sturdier.

His signature leaf-vest looked so lonely without him in it. He'd worn it every day since she'd given it to him. She'd taken that as a mark of their growing friendship, but now he'd thrown it away. What if he didn't want to be friends with her anymore?

Then she realized the vest was still warm from his body heat. Instantly she pulled it to her, clinging to his warmth and breathing in his scent. It helped a little bit, but she still wished she was in his arms for real. "Oh, Branch…" she whispered sadly. "Please come back. I'm sorry…"

What have I done? What if he never comes back? What if I never see him again? She couldn't get over the terrible pain she'd heard in his voice. She had done that to him. Not the bergens; her. She berated herself, "What were you thinking, Poppy? Bringing up the bergens, when you know how sensitive he is about them. No wonder he freaked out. You couldn't have been any meaner to him if you were a bergen. Dad would be so disappointed in you." She hung her head. "I'm disappointed in myself."

What would her father say to her? Something like "This is no way for a future queen to behave, Poppy Rainbow. You need to make it up to him."

"Oh, I will," she vowed. Her lower lip trembled, and her eyes filled. "If I can ever find him again."

In her mind's eye she imagined a delicate flow of shimmering hair connecting her to the long-lost, lonely, forgotten troll. If only it were real hair. Then I could always find him when he disappears on me.

Poppy sighed dejectedly. "Conflict might be useful, Dad, but being in the middle of a fight is no fun at all," she said in a trembly, miserable voice. "And it's my fault."

I keep trying to fool myself into thinking that I'm making a difference; that Branch is making progress. But a single laugh doesn't mean he's ready to be hugged. A single game of tag doesn't mean he's ready to rejoin the village. Branch got the way he is by being isolated for eight long years. It might take years for him to recover.

If he ever does.

The pink troll hugged his vest close as the weight of her fears pressed down on her. "What if I'm just making him worse?" Her eyes stung, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Maybe I should ask Dad to take over. All I keep doing is making mistakes. I don't want hurt him any more."

Just for a moment, she was tempted. Her father had many more years of experience, and he was far more accustomed to the burden of caring for-

'I believe that your intentions are good.'

An image of Branch's laughing face rose up in her mind's eye. Laughing that adorable laugh of his, because of her. Laughing because he listened to her when she figured out a way to make it an okay thing for him to do. He let her change his mind, because she understood him; or at least, tried to understand him. She didn't always get it right, but she would keep trying, because she cared about him. Her little foxfluff had become very, very special to her.

She knew that despite everything, Branch cared about her, too. The wary gray troll had let her into his safe sanctuary; had even shown her the secret little bolt-hole he'd made in case she ever needed it to be safe. They traded snacks, and cooking recipes. They had long talks about all manner of things. She let him vent about the bergens. He indulged her curiosity and endless questions even when they annoyed him. He'd even relaxed enough in her presence to actually hum a tune for what must have been the first time in years. Despite her mistakes, Poppy honestly felt that she was making a positive difference in his life.

The shimmering rainbow-colored strands that connected her to the grumpy gray troll grew stronger and brighter. Branch is not a burden. He's my friend, and he's doing his best to trust me even though it goes against every instinct he has. He even offered to hug me, to make me happy. It's not his fault he's not ready.

Maybe he never will be. Maybe he will never, ever hug me. Do I still want to be his friend, even so?

She closed her eyes and pictured his face. So serious most of the time, but once in a while he let her see him smile.

Back during that time she'd been crying, he'd left her hair-dome even though he was afraid of being attacked just to get her something to blow her nose and soothe her feelings. The ever-cautious forest troll been willing to take a risk just to make her feel better.

He'd never missed a meeting; never asked her to come back later no matter what time of day she showed up, even though he was always talking about how much work he had to do. She was more important to him than his work. He didn't have to say it out loud. She knew.

He claimed he wasn't lonely, yet he'd gotten really upset when she asked if he missed anyone. No matter how many times he said he didn't need anyone, she knew it wasn't true. Branch did need her. Like that time when he was chopping wood. He'd been so angry and upset until she came. In fact, considering how quickly he'd calmed down, she wondered if part of him had been waiting for her to come along and make him feel better.

Branch never used to smile, and now he did. Branch never used to laugh, and now he did. Branch never used to trust anyone, but if he didn't quite trust her now, he wanted to. She could tell.

"I will always be your friend, Branch. Even if we never hug," she said aloud, hoping he could hear her from wherever he was hiding. "And as your friend, I owe you a big apology. What I said about the bergens was totally unacceptable."

She brushed the tears out of her eyes, pulled some scrapbook materials out of her hair, and flopped down onto the grass. Scrapbooking always soothed her when she was upset. And I know exactly what my subject should be.

Poppy left her scrapbook apology inside the bolt-hole cave, where it would be safe from rain. Her fabric self had big blue tears to show how sorry she was. "I'm sorry I called you a you-know-what. It was very insensitive of me, and rude. But I truly I didn't mean to upset you," said the sad little pink figure. "I just got carried away. I'm very, very sorry."

"I care about you, Branch. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. I hope you can forgive me. I promise I won't try to hug you anymore; not until you ask me for one. I'll come back to the meadow every day to wait for you, and to apologize. Please don't stop being my friend. Love, Poppy."

-O-

As soon as she got back to the village she went straight to her father's pod. "Dad, I've messed things up again," she said woefully. "We had another fight. And it was all my fault."

Her father hugged her. "Tell me all about it, my dear."

He listened compassionately as she talked, letting her get it all out. It wasn't the first time she had ever gone to her father for comfort and support, and it wouldn't be the last. But this time around, she kept thinking about Branch. He'd gotten so upset at her thoughtless words. Did he have anyone to comfort him? Anyone at all?

She hoped so. He'd never once mentioned anyone else in his life. Maybe there was, and he was just keeping quiet about them. Princess Poppy was the most optimistic troll in all the village, but not even she could convince herself to believe that.

In her heart, Poppy knew Branch was alone. His dark moods, his pessimistic words, his fearful reactions; they all reflected a troll in the grip of untrusting vigilance. No soft voice swayed his heart; no loving hands held his body close. More wild than many forest creatures she'd encountered, the wary gray forest troll would never – could never - reach out to anyone. Not on his own.

When she told her thoughts to her father, he said contemplatively, "I see. Then maybe it's about time I met this young man."

Poppy hesitated. Part of her wanted desperately to agree, but she pictured what would happen if she suddenly showed up with the village king in tow and grimaced uncertainly. "I would love to have you meet him, but I'm not sure how Branch will react. He might not like it if I show someone else where his secret sanctuary is. I think he'd see it as a betrayal of his trust."

"Oh." Her father looked disappointed for a moment, but then his face brightened. "There now, you see? You do understand him." He sighed. "I just wish I could do more to help you, darling."

She gave her father a smile of pure love. "Thanks, Dad. You know, I can think of one thing that would help me."

He chuckled. "Let me guess. Another hug?"

-O-

Milton was sorry to hear that her attempt to hug her "little friend" had gone wrong, but he encouraged her not to give up. "Don't miss even a day, or he'll backslide," he advised her. "You need to be consistent to show him he can trust you. If he can't handle hugs yet, try something different. Try grooming him with that hairbrush I gave you, or try singing different songs than you normally sing to him."

Poppy winced. "Actually, he doesn't like singing."

Milton gasped, his eyes wide. "Doesn't like singing? How can that be?"

Poppy shook her head. "I don't know. All I know is that singing really seems to cause him pain."

"How awful!" said the tenderhearted critternarian, putting a hand over his heart. "I wonder what happened to the poor thing? No hugs and no singing?" His lavender forehead wrinkled with worry. "That is very concerning. Oh, I wish I could see him for myself, but I'm afraid I might jeopardize the trust you've been building between you."

He was quiet for a moment. "It sounds as if something really hurt him in the past. I know it doesn't seem like it, but the fact that he lets you get close to him at all is a remarkable accomplishment," he said softly, his teal-green eyes shining.

Poppy found herself blushing at his open admiration. "Thank you, Milton. I needed to hear that."

-O-

Following Milton's advice, Poppy returned to the meadow the next day at precisely the usual time, swinging a well-stuffed treat basket in her hand. Her gaze swept over the large grassy expanse, eagerly searching for a stocky gray body with a thatch of night-black hair.

No sky-blue eyes met hers. No one gave her a little smile of welcome before realizing what he was doing and making his face go all serious in front of her. The only sight that met her eyes was the gentle rippling of lavender-green grassfronds in the breeze, waving a greeting to her.

Her shoulders drooped and her mouth quivered at the corners, wanting to pull down in disappointment. I really thought he'd be here. I left him that apology-scrapbook- Oh! She dashed over to check the bolt-hole. The scrapbook was gone.

Excitedly Poppy used her hair to swoop up and out of the little cave. "Branch! Branch, I'm here!" she called happily. "Branch?"

No troll answered. Her magenta topknot drooped. "Branch? Please come out. I'm sorry," she called wistfully, but only the wind whistling through the harsh prickle bushes answered. She looked around the large, empty meadow and shivered. How does he stand it, being all alone like this? I'd be so lonely. I can't imagine having no one to talk to, no one to hug. No one to sing or dance or play with…

For a moment she felt sadness trying to take hold, and chose to follow a different path. But it doesn't have to be this way. Why can't he see that?

An inspirational song began to rise inside her. Lean on Me; a very popular song about friendship; about caring for the people in your life and letting yourself be cared for in return. Then just as she opened her mouth to sing the first words, she imagined Branch walking into the meadow. His look of horror, betrayal, sadness. "You promised me you wouldn't sing," he would say tearfully, and run off into the forest again, this time never to return. And why should he, if I kept breaking my promises to him?

She took a deep breath. "Okay, Branch. I'll prove to you that you can trust me," she said out loud, just in case he could see her, or hear her. "I'll just wait right here in case you decide you want to join me." She sat down on the grass, determined to be patient.

Five minutes later, she was bored. Still patient, but bored. Finally she decided, I'll make another scrapbook. A happier one than yesterday's. Even if he won't talk to me directly, I can still communicate with him. I can still let him know I'm here and thinking about him.

Poppy went back to the meadow the next day, and the next, and the next. Every day she made Branch a new scrapbook, and the next day when she returned and checked the bolt-hole, it was gone.That was tremendously encouraging.

She began each scrapbook the same way, with a small pink troll saying, Hello! How are you today, Branch? and ended it with I miss you, Branch. I hope to see you tomorrow, my friend. 😊 Love, Poppy

As always, creating scrapbooks made her happy. Within their sparkly pages she had fun detailing all the awesome things she hoped to do with her absent friend. Dancing together in perfect sync. Enjoying tasty snacks together. Brushing and styling each other's hair. Roller skating. Jigsaw puzzles, board games, painting each other's portraits. Dressing up in cute costumes and doing a photo shoot. Doing arts and crafts. Yoga and meditation, of course. What better way to get him to relax and take his mind off the worries that burdened him?

She did not mention singing. Or hugging.

After her scrapbook was done, she would leave it with the treat basket in Branch's bolt-hole. Then she would do other things to pass the time, like practice her choreography for upcoming village dance numbers. It was tricky to do it without music or singing, but she managed. She also used the time to work on plans, lists, and decorations for future holidays. She even spent the better part of one particularly beautiful afternoon in front of her easel, happily engaged with the charming scenery.

Without realizing it the young princess came to deeply appreciate the quiet meadow, with its sun-dappled grass, sparkling stream and bright wildflowers in a rainbow of colors. The giant mushrooms that grew here and there were the perfect size to sit on to enjoy the view, or sit under when she wanted some shade. Even the prickle bushes added a touch of color, with their big pink, orange, and yellow thorns. The vines strung across the space above her always reminded her of party streamers, which cheered her.

She even came to appreciate the privacy. It's nice to have someplace to go where I know I won't be interrupted, she realized. Her pod was nice too, but rarely an hour passed without some troll coming to her looking for company, or help with some issue. Everyone had been told she was working on a "special project" in the afternoons for her father. They knew that if they needed help, they had to look for King Peppy. Her dad could handle anything. That soothed her conscience. She didn't like to think of some poor troll needing her and not being able to find her.

On the fourth day, when she checked the bolt-hole, a basket of muffins sat in place of her last scrapbook. The young princess jumped up and down in glee and clapped her hands. It's working. He's starting to forgive me!

The next day she was working on a complicated dance routine when she saw another shadow join hers. She whirled around to see Branch standing there, his expression pensive.

Her eyes lit up. "You came back! I'm so happy to see you!" She only just managed to stop from hurling herself into him. After taking a moment to get herself under control, she began, "Branch, I'm really sorry. I should never have-"

Her words cut off as Branch took a step toward her. His arms lifted, pulled back hesitantly, then moved up again. Toward her.

Her mouth dropped open. Quickly she looked at him, her shining eyes full of hope. His eyes flicked away for a moment, but then he bravely met her gaze. Then his mouth curved into a sweet, kind smile, and his eyebrows lifted.

Poppy broke out into a brilliant smile of her own, barely holding back a squeal of joy. He was offering her a hug! All on his own! Her heart almost burst with affectionate pride. How far he'd come from the guarded, near-feral troll who could barely even make eye contact with her.

Step by step, Branch crossed the distance between them. He looked nervous, but determined. To make herself seem less threatening, she closed her eyes. "It's your choice, Branch," she murmured softly, opening her arms wide.

Tortuously long seconds went by while she held herself steady, her belly quivering with eagerness. Finally she felt the light touch of his hands on her back. He was trembling.

Her little foxfluff had chosen to be tamed.

Author's Note:

Poppy didn't know it, but the bush that Branch "hid" inside was actually one of many concealed entrances to his bunker. He heard her calling for him through his listening-tubes, which is why it took him a minute to come out when Poppy called for him.

I'm using the last name Rainbow for Poppy since when the first Trolls movie came out, for a while they were called rainbow trolls. I use Timberlake for Branch's last name partly due to his voice actor having that name, and partly because it sounds like the kind of name a rustic survivalist would have.

This chapter is a classic case of someone trying to set a boundary and the other person being disrespectful and ignoring it. Branch was right to refuse to hug her. Poppy had to find a more respectful way to treat him to get a hug as her reward. Haha, she thinks she's socializing him, but he's teaching her just as much about being truly receptive to others' needs and not just assuming she knows what's best for everyone😉

Eyelashh1 commented about whether Branch would have still been big on safety even if he hadn't had the trauma of losing his grandma. Short answer: yes. Based on my research into personality types, I believe Branch would've always been on the protective side. Maybe not enough to feel the need to build an underground bunker, but he'd definitely be the type to have a certain amount of supplies stockpiled in case of need. He'd always bring a first-aid kit with him everywhere. He'd still always be prepared for things. The type who approaches new things with a bit of caution.

He's also an introvert, so he'd need alone time every so often. He'd have one or more quiet, isolated spots to take a break from it all. He'd also have a tendency to get overwhelmed with a lot of noise/confusion/chaos faster than most trolls, which means he might have a tendency to be irritable at times.

Would he still have bouts of anxiety? I'd say he would probably have the occasional bad dream, yes. Maybe a sense of foreboding before some big event that would make him worry and lose sleep. But this Branch would also feel comfortable seeking out emotional comfort from his grandma, Poppy, or someone else, so he'd be able to let them ease his fears and make him feel better.

Now I'm thinking about the Trollstopia episode The Search for Piece. We see that even as a trolling Branch was worrier. His grandma knew that, which is why she not only did the daily puzzle thing to calm him, she wrote that note to remind him that even if things don't go as planned, it will be okay. And then Branch asked for comfort from his friends. So it's kind of like we got to see what life would have been like for Branch if he hadn't lost his grandma. He'd probably always have had a tendency to be a bit anxious, but he'd have coped much better with the loving support of those around him. Thankfully he has that now 😊

The "shimmering stands of hair" connecting Poppy to Branch is inspired by the Asian idea of the invisible red thread of fate that's supposed to be tied around your finger and connects you to other people in your life. I made them all the colors of the rainbow (and then some) since I thought that fit better with the True Colors theme.

Lean on Me is a reference to the song by Bill Withers, sung by Branch/Justin Timberlake in the Trolls Holiday special.

In the next chapter we will finally get to see a little of this story from our favorite gray foxfluff's point of view 😉