-O-

Taming Branch

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Two

Expert Advice

Poppy slept late the next morning, and when she awoke, the first thing she did was begin a new scrapbook. I think I'll call it The Forest Troll and Me.

As she lay on her stomach, idly waving her feet in the air, she discovered that she was out of gray felt. It wasn't a color she used very often. Poppy shrugged and substituted green felt instead. His skin had seemed to have a warm undertone beneath the gray. Besides, he probably won't be gray for much longer. We're gonna do all sorts of fun things together that'll really brighten his colors up.

Looking at the empty pages made her fingers tingle with eagerness. I'm gonna scrapbook every new experience we have together. Someday we'll look back at these first pages and see all the progress we've made, as we become closer friends. I can't wait!

-O-

Late in the afternoon, Poppy waited for Branch where they had agreed; a small field on the outskirts of the village that had been left to lie fallow for the season so the dirt could replenish its nutrients. Her only company was a jolly-looking scarecrow dressed in clothes considerably nicer than the ragged ensemble worn by the gray troll. Her gift would help with that. If he came.

Why is he still gray? Why is he still so terrified of the bergens, even though no one's seen one in eighteen years? What could have possibly happened to him to make him like this? Dad said it was because Branch had lost his entire family, but that happened to other trolls, too… And while that's a really sad thing, they all recovered their colors a long time ago. I get the feeling that there's something else. Something bad… Her heart went out to him. Poor, lonely foxfluff.

As the minutes passed and Branch did not appear, Poppy began to worry. Like most of her people, she wasn't one to borrow trouble before it happened, but part of her feared that he might have been scared off when she'd touched his arm yesterday. He'd jerked away so fast it had startled her. All trolls love to hug. What must he have been through in the past eight years to make him so touch-shy?

-O-

She'd had another talk with her father that morning. Like her, he could only guess. "It could just be due to his isolation. As I recall, even when he lived in the village, Branch didn't have many friends. He was always more apt to do things on his own than to join others' activities. And he wasn't the biggest fan of Hug Time. Used to complain that it interrupted his work. But I often had the feeling that that wasn't the only reason."

"Really?" Poppy was surprised. "I think I recall that he didn't like group hugs, but I remember hugging him when I was little. He didn't seem to mind."

"Yes, but the two of you were close, weren't you? Maybe he was more comfortable hugging you because you were friends."

"We were friends…" Poppy trailed off thoughtfully. "For a while. Then he started pulling away from me. I thought he'd lost interest in me. I didn't see much of him after that. Once in a while he'd show up, usually when he was scolding me for doing something he thought was dangerous." She grinned. "For Branch, that was everything."

Her father chuckled. "Well, if anyone can get him to enjoy Hug Time again, it's you, my darling. Just go softly with that young buck, if he's as skittish as you say he is."

"Right." She made a mental note to leave her Hug Time watch at home again.

'Young buck'… Poppy thought in amusement as she left her dad's pod. Apparently her description of the wary gray troll made her father think in terms of forest creatures, too. She'd never met anyone so cautious; so shy. Poppy was used to solving all sorts of problems to help her people, but this one felt like it was going to be a real challenge. Maybe she ought to think about asking an expert for help, like one of the village doctors?

Forest creatures… Wait. I know just the troll.

A few minutes later she was greeting the village's gentle critternarian, Milton Moss.

"What can I do for you today, Princess Poppy?" he asked pleasantly as the morning sun shone on his light golden-orange hair.

"I'd like your advice about…um, how should I put this… Rehabilitating a shy, lonely forest creature without making him feel threatened enough to run away."

Milton cocked his head curiously. "You want to tame a wild creature?"

"No…" Poppy faltered, tilting her own head to the side. "Well, sort of. He's not really wild, he… He's lost his whole family. He's the only one left, and I think he's really lonely. But because he's all alone, he's also kind of timid-" Branch's fierce blue eyes, aggressive posture and spiked hair flashed through her mind. "No, not timid. More like, on guard. Not knowing who he can trust."

"Ah, I see. Well, I'm sorry he's so lonely." His soft teal-green eyes were full of compassion for Poppy's "forest creature". "Let's see what we can do about that."

Some of the advice Milton gave her she had already figured out for herself. "It would be better to approach him alone, so he won't feel intimidated, at least at first," Milton said. "Later on you can introduce him to a few trolls at a time, so he feels safe. You haven't told anyone else about him, have you?"

"Only my dad. And he won't tell anybody else."

"Perfect. You have good instincts, Princess Poppy." He gave her such a sweetly admiring smile that Poppy almost regretted that Smidge already had a crush on him first. Or so she suspected, anyway, after coming across her friend the other day gushing about Milton's beautiful eyes, nose, ears, hair, smile, personality, and so on. Smidge herself didn't seem to realize it yet.

Poppy found herself blushing a little at his praise. "Thank you."

As Poppy discovered, Milton had good instincts as well. "One of the ways you can create a bond is through food."

Poppy bounced on her toes. "Ooo! I did that. I gave him some pastries yesterday. He seemed to like them."

"Wonderful! If he took food from you, then I'm certain he likes you too,Princess Poppy. You're off to a great start."

Again, Poppy blushed. "Thanks. And just 'Poppy' is fine, Milton."

The lavender troll looked pleased. "And you can call me Mil… Oh."

Sweet he was, sharp he was not. Just as well, since it never occurred to him to ask what type of forest creature they were discussing. But he did say something that Poppy had wondered about herself. "Another way to create a close bond is through touch. Touch can be a very powerful language, as Hug Time shows. There are things that are communicated better through touch than any other way. No words needed."

"Like love, right?" Her tone was soft, thinking about the troll who hadn't been hugged in seven years. Maybe longer. How could he have borne it without going all to pieces? One day without hugs and she'd be willing to hug a cactus. What could have possibly made him willing to deprive himself of the type of connection she needed like water?

"Yes, Prin- Yes, Poppy. Like love." Milton's voice was as soft as hers.

Poppy smiled back, but it was a troubled smile. "Milton, I tried to hug him and he kept dancing back, just out of reach. He… He didn't want to be hugged."

Most trolls would be gasping in horror by now, but Milton nodded calmly. "Not every creature wants to be hugged, but I've never had a critter that didn't eventually love physical attention. It's more about earning his trust. Don't be discouraged. Be patient. Be kind. If you don't give up, he'll respond to you. I know he will."

Just then their hug watches went ting and Poppy gladly hugged the lavender troll, who hugged her back warmly. "Thank you so much, Milton."

He was right. She'd figure this out. Branch would be happy and colorful; singing, dancing, and hugging like everybody else in no time. As she let go and began to walk away, Milton called after her, "Anytime, Poppy. Let me know how it goes, okay?"

"Okay!" she called back cheerfully over her shoulder. "Thank you again!"

-O-

Milton's right. I'm sure it won't take long for Branch to open up to me, she thought confidently. I'll win him over eventually. I'm great at making friends. Poppy looked forward to the challenge of drawing him out, the way she enjoyed drawing out some of the shyer trolls in the village. They're all wonderful, fascinating people. All you have to do is spend time with them, and let them know you care. Dad taught me that.

I wonder what he's been doing out there that's kept him away from the village for so long? He was willing to go without hugs, so it must be something important. All that stuff he told me about the bergens yesterday… Surely he hasn't spent the last eight years doing nothing but watching for their return?

As her eyes scanned the greenery yet again, Poppy bit her lip. What if he'd changed his mind? She didn't know where he lived. She couldn't help him if she couldn't talk to him!

And then he was there, patched overalls and all. Standing in the shadows, under a giant leaf. He came! she thought excitedly, and then, Has he been hiding under there this whole time?

Probably. Most likely he had investigated the entire area before letting himself be seen. If there was one thing she was remembering more and more about Branch, it was that he was the cautious type. He always had been. Being safe sounds like a good thing, but… Now look at him. So alone. So afraid. It's like he put his guard up and then forgot how to let it down. He needs to learn how to let someone else in. How to make a good connection with someone.

She took a deep breath. Time to extend an invitation.

As she walked toward him across the soft, sun-warmed dirt, Poppy gave him her brightest, warmest, most welcoming smile, wanting to make up for any bad feelings she might have caused him yesterday. The closer she got to the gray troll, the more excited she felt. He was here, so he must want to see her, right? And man, did she want to see him! Here was a whole new person to get to know! Someone who'd lived a different life than anybody in the village. I'll bet he has lots of amazing stories to tell! I can't wait to hear them all.

"Hi, Branch," she said brightly as she bounced to a stop in front of him, determined to do a better job of bonding with him today.

He glanced at her, but didn't say anything. She watched his eyes scan back and forth across the furrowed field, then glance beyond it to the thick vegetation that lay between them and the main village. She'd been proud of herself for choosing this location, knowing that the dense foliage would help to give them privacy; something she had thought Branch would appreciate.

She waited for him to comment on that. She waited for him to speak at all.

Finally she could wait no more. "Branch? Is something wrong?"

"It's been a long time," he replied quietly. "Since I was this close to the village." His serious face stilled her bubbly energy, bringing her into line with his solemn mood as he added in his oddly stilted manner, "It's my past. Part of my old life. I left it behind me a long time ago."

He spoke quietly, without emotion, yet Poppy sensed there was more. A lot more, left unsaid for who knew how long? Why did Branch leave? Who would want to leave someplace as fun as Troll Village behind? What was it he was so determined to forget?

"Branch. It's your home," she corrected him gently.

He didn't look at her. "Not anymore. I wasn't happy there."

Poppy was stunned. "What do you mean? Troll Village is the happiest place in the world. How could you possibly not have been happy there?"

"Partly," his eyes narrowed as he gazed off into the distance, "because of attitudes like that."

"I…don't understand."

Silence. She listened to the breeze sifting through their hair and the nearby leaves. It made more noise than he had. A hundred questions danced on her tongue, but she held back, giving him space to answer.

Eventually he spoke. "I almost didn't come."

Uh, oh. With visions of him skittering away from her into the forest flashing through her brain, Poppy decided to drop the subject for now. She would ask him about it later, after he was more comfortable with her. "Well, I'm glad you did come." She offered a hopeful little smile.

He looked away from her, and she sensed his discomfort. "What is it, Branch?"

"I know you aren't really interested in the bergens. I could see that yesterday." Internally she winced, but before she could answer, he continued, "I came to find out what you want."

"What I want?" she asked, puzzled.

For the first time, he looked directly into her eyes. "Why are you really here?"

Author's Note:

At this point Poppy doesn't know about the bunker. She thinks he lives in the forest, so it's easy for her to fantasize him as some kind of cute, skittish wild beastie. She thinks she can turn him into a typical, happy troll. But Branch is a lot more complex than that, as we shall soon see…

I've been trying to decide what a "foxfluff" looks like. I know I want it to have a fox-like face, a big fluffy tail, and be white or light gray in color. Lots of hair, I guess, since this is Trolls, lol. Then I thought about asking my wonderful, talented readers. If anybody wants to post pics of what they think a foxfluff would look like, and let me know where I can see them in the comments, I can get some inspiration from your wonderful imaginations! I'll mention everybody's names in my Author's Notes. Thanks! 😊