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. . .
"I think I should like to run away and live in the forest." That was the earl of Locksley, his boots slapping against packed dirt and crunching over dried leaves, his gloved hand stretching out to rest flat against the pale bark of a tree. The sun was in his red-brown hair, and his smile was proud. That tree was his own, as was that leaf, and that rock, and that and that … just as he owned Locksley, at only twenty years of age, he owned this forest. He supposed that if he'd had the opportunity to see the world, he would have owned that too.
Much trudged up behind him through the same gold-tinted leaves, and scanned Sherwood with a very different expression. "Well, that's a revolting thought," he said, breaking the windblown silence by sounding vaguely disgusted. "Sleeping with roots in my back, bathing in stinking rivers full of mud, without a decent meal except perhaps a gamy squirrel or a … slimy, probably poisonous toad …"
"Much!" Robin whirled around, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "You have no appreciation of nature! Can you not hear the leaves rustling against each other, and smell that green?"
"You cannot smell green."
"You cannot smell green!"
"And it's not true," Much looked offended. "I appreciate the forest. I just don't want to live in it." He shifted position so that he was leaning heavily on his staff – which was only a burly stick from the forest floor. "I appreciate nature. I appreciate nature intensely."
"Much," Robin growled. "Shut up." He then spun around and continued his proud stance against the tree, feeling the uncomfortable heat of Much's baleful stare against his back. Annoying. Next time he went for a walk in Sherwood, he was walking alone. Or perhaps with Marian. A smile played on his face at the thought. Yes, most definitely …
"Master?" Much broke the silence once again.
Robin promptly knocked his head against the tree, then turned back around. "Much?"
"You're not actually thinking of running away, are you?" he asked pensively, working slowly through his thoughts. "Because … if you moved out here, into the forest, then I would have to follow, being your servant. And, to be entirely honest, I don't go for the idea, at all. I would much rather stay at Locksley."
Robin rolled his eyes longsufferingly and smiled. "Very well. For you, we stay at Locksley. It would kill me to see you forced to sleep with roots in your back." Then he turned and started sauntering out of the woods, tossing over his shoulder –"You know, Much, I wasn't actually being serious."
"One can never tell, Master," said Much, and followed.