Disclaimer: We don't own Trolls.

Poppy didn't think about how she was going to find her way out of the bunker maze until she was already out the door. However, as she walked along, she noticed what appeared to be bread crumbs on the ground. When she ate one, she found that they were indeed bread crumbs (and fairly tasty, too).

As she followed the trail of bread crumbs (eating each one), she found that they only marked certain tunnels. She suddenly knew what had happened—Branch had gone and left a trail so she could find her way back out. As if she'd needed more proof that he never intended to go with her.

Still, she was grateful for the guidance and the food. She wasn't sure what that bread was made of, but the number and size of the crumbs managed to fill her up by the time she got outside.

"I guess it's a good thing Branch dropped so much bread," she said as she headed up the stairs to the exit. "That stuff was way tastier than some dried-up vegetables would have been."

She came out of the bunker, and the door shut behind her. Poppy hopped off the stump, stopping to cast one final sad look at the bunker. She sighed before making her way back toward where she'd left her flyer bug, being careful not to trigger anymore of Branch's death traps. Three or four near-death experiences at his hands were enough to last her a lifetime. She certainly didn't need anymore, thank you very much.

When she got back to her flyer bug, she was glad to see the critter was okay. She still lay there, sleeping soundly.

Poppy headed over and put a hand on the bug, saying, "Hey, there, girl. Sleep well?"

Tired, the bug opened her eyes and yawned.

"Look, I'm so sorry about all of this. I've been so worried about saving everyone that I totally forgot about your needs, huh?"

The bug blinked and stared at her.

"I promise. I won't do that again. Besides," Poppy said, reaching into the backpack Branch had given her and pulling out a map, "Branch gave us a map we can use to find Troll Village and even Bergen Town. And you're not gonna believe this, but they're both super close, too."

With how much he hated other trolls, you'd think Branch would have moved farther away from them. Poppy didn't have a clue why he was anywhere near Troll Village, but she also wasn't complaining. If she could still get back to her friends in a reasonable amount of time, that was even better.

The bug bounced around a bit, looking excited.

"So? What do you say we try again, girl? No troll left behind?" Poppy asked.

Her flyer bug bounced a bit more, looking happy, then moved up beside Poppy, readying for a passenger.

"Aw. Thank you. I knew I could count on you." Poppy mounted her bug, the backpack strapped to her own back, and said, "Alright! Let's get—"

She was cut off by growls in the distance.

Poppy's eyes widened. She knew that sound by now. The last five days had been very eventful. "Oh, no."

She turned, and, sure enough, there was a growlbeast creeping up behind her. The ones around Troll Village were always brightly colored, but this one's blue fur was more of a dusty shade, allowing it to blend into its environment a little better. The horns were red like a bergen's blood. Growlbeasts were always fearsome creatures, but this one somehow looked more menacing than those back home.

Poppy's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, not again!" She spurred her bug on, "Go, girl, go!"

In a panic, the bug took off at full speed. The growlbeast lunged after them, chasing down its prey. Poppy pushed her flyer bug as fast as she could, dodging rocks, tree branches, and the occasional vine as she desperately tried to evade the creature. The fog got thicker and thicker as she flew through the swamp.

Poppy growled—she couldn't see two feet in front of her. "It's so dark out here! I can barely see a thing!"

She kept going, trying to dodge objects that she could barely see. Meanwhile the growlbeast was hot on her heels.

"Arrhh! This is just not my day! Come on, girl! I know you can make it!"

Her bug bobbed a bit in determination and tried to speed up some more. Finally they were moving fast enough. The growlbeast started falling behind slowly.

And that's when Poppy's bad habit emerged again—she grinned triumphantly at it as she watched the predator struggling to keep up with her. "Ha! Nice try, beast! But you were just—"

As a branch slammed hard into her stomach, she was cut off in mid-sentence. Her flyer bug didn't even notice the loss of her passenger as Poppy fell to the ground, hitting her head.

The troll princess sat up, rubbing her head a bit. "Ooohh... What hit me?" Her eyes widened, and she got to her feet, looking around frantically. "Wait... Where's my flyer bug?"

As she was looking, the growlbeast's shadow suddenly loomed over her. Turning her attention to the threat, Poppy was positive the swamp variety of growlbeast was somehow worse than her normal variety. In this dense fog, its fangs looked twice as sharp, its claws longer. The murderous look in its eyes made it clear that it wanted nothing from Poppy except a meal—and not the home-cooked kind, either. More the kind you eat alive.

The beast growled threateningly and started to advance slowly.

Poppy sweat, backing up slightly. "Oh, man! Would you just look at those teeth! I sure hope Branch gave me something useful for getting out of this one! Things could get real ugly if he didn't."

She reached into the backpack, hoping for a knife or something she could use as a weapon. What she pulled out were two objects she never dreamed Branch would even own—a baseball bat and a tennis racket. Confused, she stared at the two items uncertainly.

"What are these doing in there? This isn't the time to be playing games! I'm in real danger here!"

Apparently deciding Poppy wasn't a threat, the beast chose that moment to lunge, snapping at her with its sharp teeth. Poppy panicked and dropped both objects as she started running for her life.

"Gee, thanks a lot, Branch! You couldn't have spared at least one weapon in case of something like this!?"

She ran and ran, finally making her way out of the swamp. The good part about that was the fog finally started to lighten. The bad part was the growlbeast seemed perfectly happy to chase her all the way to Bergen Town.

Some distance from the swamp, she finally saw a large thorn bush she thought could be of use. She smiled, crying, "Yes! A thicklethorn bush! There's no way this thing's gonna want to follow me in there!"

She ran into a small break in the thorns, just large enough for a troll, and watched in triumph as the growlbeast stopped. Confident it would give up and leave now, she pumped a fist in the air and started dancing around excitedly.

"Yyeess! Score one for me! Oh, yeah! I'm the man! Ooh ooh!"

Her celebration was cut short by the sounds of something digging its way in.

Poppy's eyes widened in shock. "WHAT!?"

Looking back toward the growlbeast, she saw the creature trying to crawl towards her. It apparently didn't care about the thorns getting stuck in its fur or ripping into its skin.

Poppy jumped and started backing away. "No way! That can't be—"

Suddenly she heard the same sounds from the other side of the bush. She whirled around and saw a second growlbeast crawling in from the other side. As she looked around frantically, she didn't see any other breaks in the thorns. She'd have to crawl out, too, and she didn't think she could move faster than the growlbeasts. They were ripping through this bush like it was made of wrapping paper.

Seeing no escape, Poppy moved as close to the center of the beasts as possible, trying not to panic. Suddenly she could see why Branch always cried out about danger—this was, what, the 20th time this trip she'd almost died?

And it looked like this might be the time she did die.

"Oh, man. I'm in real trouble now! I should've listened to Branch and stayed where it was safe! I mean, it's not like I know where everyone else is anyway, and—"

As the growlbeasts kept closing in, she cut herself off and let out a scream.

That was when Poppy heard a very strange sound. At first, it was a whoosh. Then, suddenly, an explosion. Her eyes bugged out—if she didn't know any better, she'd think she had just heard someone shooting off a bottle rocket.

"Whaaat!? That sounded like—"

Then the strangest thing happened. Both growlbeast started growling lowly, looking even angrier than before. Then they both backed out of the bush and headed off toward the sound—back toward the swamp.

Poppy stared after them, eyes wide in confusion. "What? Why did they—" She cut herself off and crawled to one of the holes, close to the unexpected sound.

What she saw was the growlbeasts charging at the only other troll out here—Branch. Unlike Poppy, he knew that the growlbeasts around here couldn't stand the sound of fireworks. They'd attack anything that loud, which made it lucky that he was usually quiet.

In one hand, Branch held the baseball bat she'd abandoned and, in the other, another bottle rocket, already lit. He pointed the rocket at one of the beasts and let it fly, hitting the creature in the face. The beast recoiled in pain, but the other lunged, trying to grab Branch in its claws.

Poppy's eyes widened once more in shock and worry. "Branch!? What's he—"

Of all the things she'd expected, Branch coming to her rescue with fireworks was pretty low on the list.

Branch swung the baseball bat at the lunging growlbeast, knocking it aside. Suddenly Poppy understood why he'd given her sporting equipment—apparently anything could be a weapon if used correctly.

The second growlbeast landed on its side a short distance away from Branch, but the first had recovered now. The second quickly got to its feet as well, and both started circling the gray troll like wolves. Bat still held in one hand, Branch pulled his machete out and held it in the other, turning with the stalking beasts as he kept his guard up.

Poppy couldn't do anything to help, and she knew it. Still hiding in the bush, she watched in awe, worry for her friend growing. "Branch..."

Both growlbeasts pounced at Branch at the same time. He did a somersault and rolled out of the way. The two growlbeasts crashed into each other, bumping their heads and falling to the ground. Taking advantage of their disorientation, Branch lunged for one of the growlbeasts, plunging his machete into its heart. The beast cried out in agony. Branch pulled his blood-stained weapon out and moved to deal with the second one.

As the first beast fell to its side, blood dripping from the hole in its chest, Poppy suddenly knew that it would never get up again.

She paled. "Tangle my hair! He just—!"

Trolls were nonviolent by nature. The fact that Branch had actually stabbed a bird ten years ago had always seemed odd to her, but the bird hadn't been seriously hurt, so she didn't give it much thought. To do serious harm to any living creature was as untrolly as can be; and, even though Branch had been more violent as a child than others, Poppy had never seen him do anything of the sort. To see him casually ending another living creature's life...it was just too much. She had no idea he was that far gone.

The surviving beast had gotten back to its feet by now and was staring Branch down. It narrowed its eyes at him as it tried to circle around behind the troll. Branch lashed out with his hair, whipping at the creature in a more traditional troll attack—the idea behind that one was always to drive the predator away.

Unfortunately it didn't work so well out here, reminding Branch of why his go-to method of dealing with dangerous beasts had changed over the last years. The growlbeast backed up a bit and grabbed Branch's hair in its mouth the moment it came within range. Holding tight to the hair, the beast pulled with all its might.

Poppy gasped, eyes widening. "Branch!" she cried. She looked around desperately for something she could use to help. If she didn't move soon, Branch would die.

Branch resisted for only a second, adjusting his grip on his two weapons, before he allowed the creature to pull him in. Once he was in its face, he hit it in the head with his baseball bat, simultaneously stabbing it in the eye with the machete. The beast let out a roar of agony as blood poured from its eye, but it recovered too quickly. It swatted Branch, knocking his weapons from his hands, then slammed a clawed paw down on top of him.

Pinned, Branch reacted the way any animal might—he bit and clawed at the growlbeast's paw, trying to get it off him.

The growlbeast winced a bit, but it didn't let go. Troll nails and teeth aren't sharp at all, so the beast was able to endure this attack. It opened its mouth wide to finish Branch off.

It just figured the way he'd die would be saving Poppy.

"Get away from him!" Poppy cried, charging out.

Branch looked toward the princess. She was charging straight toward a deadly creature with a nasty look in her eyes...and a scrapbook in her hands.

"Poppy! What are you doing!?" Branch demanded. She was going to get herself killed!

"Rrraaaaahhh!" Poppy cried. She jumped up in the startled growlbeast's face, using her hair to hold herself up in the air, and opened her book in its face, pointing right at the good eye. A powerful stream of glitter shot out of the book, hitting it in the eye.

If anything could be a weapon, that included glitter.

The growlbeast cried out in pain and recoiled, getting off Branch and writhing in pain.

"Now's our chance! Let's move it!" Poppy called to Branch.

He didn't listen. He got up, grabbing his machete from nearby, and charged with a battle cry.

Poppy reached out a hand in horror, crying, "Branch, no! Don't do it!"

Branch stabbed the second growlbeast in the chest without a moment's hesitation.

"NOOOOOO!" Poppy cried.

The second growlbeast twitched a bit before falling dead as well.

Branch took a moment to catch his breath before turning to Poppy and asking, "Really? You can't even make it 100 feet without being attacked?"

Poppy leaped down from her hair, staring at the gray troll in horror. "Branch... You just..."

"They're growlbeasts, Poppy. It's them or us, and I'm not going down without a fight."

"B-but, Branch! They're living, breathing creatures! Just like you and me! You know it's not a troll's way to take a life! What in cupcakes is wrong with you!?"

"It's called 'survival,' Poppy."

"It's called murder, Branch! Honestly, I just can't believe you sometimes! How could you even—"

"Okay, the next time a growlbeast attacks you, I'll just let it enjoy its meal! How's that sound!?" Branch cut her off, angry.

It figured she'd call him a murderer. Why had he come after her again? It wasn't like he needed anyone else accusing him of being so dangerous. Why was he subjecting himself to this? He'd just given her the chance she needed to prove that she was just like the rest of the trolls in that cursed village. She thought he was capable of murder, just like them.

She'd shown her true colors this time. All that talk about being friends and caring about him had been a lie. She only came looking for him because she needed his help.

Poppy stopped and stared at him in disbelief. First he killed two creatures, then he got angry at her for calling him out on it. "Branch..."

What have I done? Has he really forgotten everything there is to being a troll? He barely acted like one to begin with!

To take a life was so contrary to how trolls lived that it was clear Branch had gone feral. Could she bring him back? Did he even want brought back? The glare on his face said he didn't.

"You're not the first person to call me a murderer, and, if you have your way and we actually find any of the other trolls, you won't be the last," he said angrily. "Now, assuming you still want a murderer's help, we should get going before more living creatures show up that you want to deal with by hugging them!"

Honestly, did she think he'd survived on his own all this time by being gentle with all the predators he'd come across? There was strength in numbers, strength most trolls took for granted—so much so that they didn't even realize how much safer they were all together like that. Being on his own, Branch had learned the hard way that there were times when you had to make the choice between your ideals and your life. The last time he'd tried to fight a predator without killing it, he'd nearly died. He'd given up on that idea then and there.

His life was trash, but he didn't want to die, so he'd do whatever he needed to do to stay alive. She'd want him to, after all.

"...Branch..." Poppy's eyes softened as she looked at him sadly. She pitied him—he'd been through so much, more than she could ever possibly understand, and it had changed him into someone she barely recognized. This is all my fault... If I hadn't been out there that day...

Branch wiped his machete off in the grass and put it away. He picked up the baseball bat, then he saw Poppy's expression.

"Don't look at me like that!" he snapped. "I don't need your pity!"

Poppy stared at him for a moment longer before she sighed and lowered her gaze.

"So? Are we going or not?" Branch asked, figuring he knew the answer to that question—the fastest way to get a rainbow troll to hate and fear you is to be accused of murder, after all. He'd been kicked out of his home the last time someone accused him of even attempted murder, and he'd just killed two creatures right in front of a rainbow troll.

There was no way she'd want him around now. Well, besides the fact that she needed his help.

Poppy looked up at him and stared silently for a moment before nodding sadly.

Feeling that she could have saved them both some trouble if she'd just said no, Branch said, "Great. Then let's go before anyone else joins the party."

He started walking off, heading in the direction of Troll Village. She didn't want him around, but she still needed him...for now. Once her friends were safe (assuming they actually could be saved), she'd tell him to hit the road. Why he still wanted to help her with that in mind, he couldn't say. But, suddenly, getting eaten by a bergen didn't seem so bad.

Living with the knowledge that nobody alive cared about him was worse.

Poppy followed him. "Branch... I really did try..." she said, reaching into her hair for the apology letter she'd brought. Her colors started to fade a bit.

Branch stopped walking and sighed. "I know, Poppy," he said sarcastically as he turned to face her.

What he saw left him concerned—dusty pink wasn't a good color on Poppy.

Is she...turning gray? But—why? It couldn't be...

If she was changing colors on him, she had to be sincere. Turning gray took some strong negative emotions, as he well knew. You couldn't fake it.

He changed tactics right then. Dropping the sarcasm, he continued, "It's not your fault, and there wasn't anything you could do about it, anyway."

He wasn't sure if that helped, but at least it didn't seem to make things any worse. Her color didn't change at all. "Branch..."

Branch looked at the green card in her hands. In orange letters, he could make out the words "I'm sorry."

He stared for a moment, then asked, "Is that for me?"

Poppy nodded and handed it over, looking away sadly.

The card wasn't the same as her usual invitations. The words on the front were surrounded by purple swirls, with pink hearts in each of the four corners. It folded down, like a calendar. Opening it, he found the same swirls and hearts border, but there were three hearts on each side now, one in each corner and one in the middle of each side. Orange writing filled the space in the middle, save a small part at the bottom. Nothing popped up, no glitter sprayed in his face. Most of the card was just writing that read:

Dear Branch!

Hi! How are you doing? Listen, about what happened 10 years ago, I just wanted to apologize. I had absolutely NO clue there even WAS a law against endangering the royal family. Well, not until my dad tried talking me out of celebrating Branch Appreciation Day about two years ago. Yeah, turns out that, if anyone does anything that could kill a member of the royal family, it's grounds for banishment. Sorry about that. Think I'll change that law the MOMENT I become queen. It doesn't exactly support the trolls' way of life. Anyway, I tried EVERYTHING to convince Dad to change his mind. I told him you apologized, felt bad about it, I even told him you redeemed yourself by saving me afterwards! But he STILL didn't care! Can you believe that? And, to top it all off, he SWEARS up and down that I'll get it once I have my own kids. But I highly doubt that's EVER gonna happen. As future queen, I'm supposed to show MERCY and acceptance. So I don't see how I'll EVER be okay with BANISHING a hero. ESPECIALLY one who APOLOGIZES for it. But I'm babbling. Anyway, when all of THAT didn't work, I started up this special holiday to celebrate your act of courage. I was HOPING that, if I could convince the other trolls Dad was wrong, they'd convince him to take you back! But it didn't work. So now we just celebrate Branch Appreciation Day every year to honor the brave deeds you USED to do. Anyway, I'm real sorry, Branch. Please forgive me.

Your friend,
Poppy

At the bottom, the only space not filled with writing had a tiny felt Poppy hugging a tiny Branch. There was a small pull tab attached to Poppy's head. Branch pulled the tab, actually curious for once.

The felt Poppy opened her mouth and cheerfully cried, "I'm sorry, Branch! Forgive me!"

And still no glitter shot out of it.

Branch stared at the card for a moment, touched. Here he'd been thinking she probably felt the same way all of her people did, and she was carrying around a card that detailed everything she'd done to try to fix everything. He couldn't have been more wrong about her if he tried. Even better, she still wanted to give it to him after watching him commit what she viewed as an unforgivable crime. Maybe he was wrong about her. Maybe she did care.

Who was he kidding? There was no "maybe" about it. Poppy still cared about him. She still wanted him around.

Too bad he couldn't be around—he knew King Peppy wasn't likely to reverse his sentence. He'd go off on this adventure with Poppy and either die or...eventually send her home before returning to his exile here in the swamp.

"...Poppy..."

She looked up at him sadly.

Branch looked at her and, for the first time in ten years, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly in a small smile. "Thanks, Poppy. Apology accepted."

Her eyes widened, filling with hope. "Y-you really mean that, Branch?"

"Yeah, Poppy. I do," he said, tucking the card into his hair.

Poppy had never seen him treat anything she'd made for him with that kind of respect—he hadn't ripped it, stomped on it, tossed it on the ground... He'd actually accepted it. But the whole situation still bothered her.

"But—Because of me, you've forgotten what it's like to even be a troll! You're acting more like a wild animal now, and it's all my fault!"

Branch made a mental note to avoid killing anything around Poppy again. While he might have accepted that sometimes it comes down to a choice between your life or the other side's, that didn't mean Poppy had learned this lesson—she couldn't handle death. Honestly Branch wasn't in any hurry for her to lose her innocence and learn that lesson, either. He'd go back to the old method of driving enemies off, saving lethal force as a last resort.

"No, Poppy, it's not your fault," he countered her. "You didn't cause any of this. From what you put in that card, you tried to change everyone's minds."

It wasn't her fault her people were so intolerant of anyone different from them.

"Branch..." Poppy said, touched. Her colors were starting to return to normal, much to Branch's relief.

"Come on," he said, turning slightly away from her. "Let's go. We still need to find your friends, don't we?"

She watched him go for a moment before answering, "Right!" Now bouncier than ever, she started singing, "We're off to fight the bergens! The bergens of Bergen Town!" in a parody of "Follow the Yellow Brick Road."

Branch rolled his eyes and said, "You're singing, I see."

As much as he tried to seem annoyed, he was just glad Poppy was back to herself. He didn't want to be the one to bring Poppy down to his level—being gray and miserable wasn't something he'd wish on the one person who cared about him.

Poppy didn't answer him. She just kept singing her little parody as they headed off, trying to get back on course after Poppy's little detour with the growlbeasts.