An: So, this is a story I've finished over at AO3 that i thought I'd upload here. I feel like I've been neglecting this site for too long and figured what could be the harm in porting over some of the work I've finished elsewhere for the people here. I hope you enjoy. For context this story was inspired by the song only in dreams by weezer, but that's between you and me. Don't tell anyone ;)
His eyes slowly flutter open to the sound of a silent wind howling against his ears as his sight is greeted with the blazing orange ting of a dying sun. The screeching of the soft breeze passes him by like forgotten memories of better days.
He doesn't know where he is for sure, only that he was he was lying on the ground, his body immersed in tall grass. What was happening?
He leans up out of the grass, using his elbow to prop himself up on the ground. He'd been in a field, on a hill overlooking his family's farm by the looks of it. He couldn't feel much, the grass beneath his wet skin or the wind howling at him from afar.
Was he dead? The question loitered in his mind, repeating over and over again like the worst mind-boggling riddle. His eyes dart the landscape around him. It was his family's farm, though unlike before it seemed to go on forever. He was alone, unfeeling. The question of whether or not he was dead screams louder in his thoughts.
His mind races untethered until he sees something by the edge of the hill, sitting on top of a small stone wall. Something he's sure wasn't there before, but once his eyes make contact his mind settles down. It was a person, not another frog like him from what he could see past the blazing sun creeping over the horizon to not be seen for the next few hours.
It was a human. One that fills him with something he hasn't felt in a long time. His heart skips, and nearly stops in his chest. It couldn't be her, could it? It's been so long since she's left them, left him all alone.
Whether what he was seeing was real or not he didn't care as he quickly scrambled to his feet and rushed toward the hillside, toward her, and stopped. She sat with one leg brought up to the wall. The sight of her single missing shoe and her messey leaf and twig-filled hair all but confirms who the girl is.
Up until then, he couldn't feel much, not his body, his limbs fingers, or toes. Even now as he reaches a hand slowly out to her, some feeling does begin to take form. Something on the inside, a feeling he couldn't explain very well even after all he's learned from her.
It was overwhelming, a sort of swelling in his chest threatening to take his life if he even still had one to spare. The feeling wasn't normal excitement or enthusiasm. This hurt and it hurt him to no end. The closer he got the more intense the feeling grew. The anticipation was torture. He just wanted to spin her around already and see her eyes, but his body refused to let him.
He was so close, stood right in front of her with his hand looming over the girl's shoulder, he was there. He tried to force himself to touch her, tried to bring his hand down, and just when he found the straight to do so, a glimmer of red, green, and blue flashed before his eyes, nearly blinding him, and just like that, she was gone, the farm was gone, everything was gone. Replaced by darkness and the sound of birds chirping just outside his window.
The light from outside creeps across his eyes, charismatically nudging the young teen to open them up. He'd rather not do that, instead staying in bad for the rest of the day, or the rest of his life, whichever he could get away with easily. Though he wouldn't have much of a choice in the matter once something, or he hesitates to say, someone comes barging into his room.
"Sprig! Sprig!" His sister spoke, or really yelled, to him. "You finally dead or what!?" He doesn't respond, only managing an incoherent moan past his sealed lips. "Okay, fine." She grumbles. His eyes were still closed but he could hear the heavy plopping of soft feet approaching him quickly.
He narrows his eyebrows as confusion settles in on his face, though he wouldn't do much to investigate what the girl had been up to. Not when she climbs over his limp body and not once, she's in the bed next to him either. "Hey? Hey, what the?" His eyes only snap open when he feels the younger frog on the other side of his bed, trying to push him right out of it. "Polly! Polly! Okay, okay, I'm up!"
She leers at him with some annoyance. "Well, it's about time." The young girl climbs back over him and onto the floor. Polly looked at him again, keeping that same scowl she'd been wearing for the past two minutes on her face. "You already slept past breakfast. You're lucky grandma saved you anything at all." She turns, making her way back to his room door. "You coming or what?" She stopped and pivoted back around to him.
"I'll be down." He groans, holding a hand to his recently opened eyes. They were still acing and taking time to adjust to the sunlight and his body had also been slowly starting to wake itself up as well.
"Well don't take so long." She turns back around. "I get you're a teenager, but that doesn't mean you have to be moody all the time." Polly chuckles and leaves him with a scowl of his own. He wasn't moody. He just had a lot going on.
He lies in bed for a minute longer before bringing his legs over the side. The boy stretches out his body, allowing a long yawn to fill his lungs and he breaths it back out. He hated waking up in the mornings. For him, it always felt like rising from the dead, with the differing aches, pains, and tired tenderness that came with it all.
He sits in place for a bit and then looks back at his scrunched-up pillow. He reaches a hand under it and pulls out a phone with a pink case covering it. He presses the button on the side, and it flashes to life.
A picture of him and another up pops on the tiny screen, a girl, not a frog like him either. He watches the background photo for a while, observing himself and the person he used to know. He still can't believe she's gone.
He brings his eyes up to the time displayed on the screen once he's done lamenting old facts. Was it really eleven already? He usually doesn't sleep for so long. Normally he'd be out and about before anyone else had the chance to even think about waking up. That is up until about a month ago when the dreams started. Then all he could think about was sleep for the sake of sleeping.
"Sprig!" He jumps when he hears Polly's voice again, resonating from somewhere downstairs. He figures if he doesn't get a move on, she would definitely make him live to regret it.
He gets up, and walks over to where his coat had hung, fixing his shirt up as he went. He never really took any of his clothes off once the days were over. It was too much of a hassle for him to get undressed and redressed nowadays. The young teen found the morning much easier if he always kept most of his attire from the previous day on. That way he wouldn't have to work so much when he eventually woke up.
He takes up his dark green jacket and throws it on around his body, afterward taking his matching hat and goggles and bringing them over to a mirror. He puts on the hat and then goggles afterward, bringing his hand up to pull a bit of his blonde hair from the front of his hat, causing a tuft of long flowing hair to rest slightly above his eyes.
He liked wearing it like that now, liked how long his hair was getting. He's sure she would have liked it too, had she been there alongside him. Sprig is sure she'd like a lot of things about him now. How far he's come and grown. What he was doing with his life, and he's sure he'd feel the same about her.
He observes himself in the mirror for a little longer, turning his head from side to side and touching his fingers to his face as he runs the digits over his moist pink skin. He thinks he and his sister Polly look a lot alike. Seeing as they come from the same blood, he should have foreseen such a detail.
A soft smile passes him by until he rubs his eyes. He should have really been getting downstairs. He doesn't want to keep everyone worried more than he already has. He left the room, only popping back in really quick to grab the phone he had left on his bed. He couldn't forget the device; the teen never went anywhere without it.
He skips his way down the steps of his home and hops into the ground floor with a loud thump. Spring knows he probably shouldn't be hopping around in the house at the age of fifteen, but he could hardly help himself. Even on days where he wasn't feeling his best.
It was still hard to believe four years had passed since the invasion of Earth and the saving of Amphibia from a narcissistic A.I., and four years since he's seen her.
Sometimes he thinks that couldn't be right. It had felt more like four days to him. Yet when he looks around and doesn't find her, he knows it's true. Even if he doesn't want it to be.
He walks toward the kitchen, stopping just before he passes the threshold. The boy brought his eyes to the wooden floor of his family's home.
Time always flew by faster than he was comfortable with. Sometimes he wishes he could reverse it all, set time back, and end up where he first found her, sitting afraid and confused in that old, hollowed-out tree stump again. Only knowing what he knows now, he would have been much kinder to her. More understanding.
He sighs and passes into the kitchen finally. Part of the boy was hoping to be alone when he does, not because he hated being around anyone let alone his own family. He just needed the space, that's all it ever was.
When he steps in, however, he doesn't exactly find the space he was looking for.
"Oh, Sprig." The older woman, a yellow frog with long white braided hair said as she spun on her heels to meet the young teen. "How lovely of you to gift us with your presence this morning." It was Sylvia, his grandmother for all tense and purposes. She stood over by the stove heating up the food she'd been saving for him. She must have started once she heard the boy land on the bottom floor.
"Uh... yeah. Sorry about that." He rubs the back of his neck on his approach to the kitchen table. "Just had a weird dream is all. Took me a while to... actually move, you know." He drags a seat out and sits at the table, not really bothering to scoot a little closer. His energy was still amassing with each moment, so the little movement he could perform was the best he could do.
"May I ask what about?" She said with a curious hum, still stirring his food in a firing pan over the low-lit stove.
Uhmm..." Sprig let out a reluctant moan. He wasn't so sure about sharing such details, even with his grandmother. "Uhhh... how long have you been waiting for me by the way?" He asked and she stops her stirring. She slowly brought her eyes around to the young teen with a puzzled frown.
"Well..." She humed. "If I told you, it'd been long enough, would you ask again?" She smiles and turns back to stirring his breakfast.
Sprig chuckles nervously at the question. "Yeah, you're right. It's probably been long enough." He never meant to keep anyone waiting but he was glad Sylvia was treating his delinquency with some care. Had it been one of the more aggressive members of his family they would have been grilling him for most of the day.
They would have called him moppy or moody just because he was feeling a little tired. His grandmother was different. She respected his boundaries and his need to be alone sometimes. The woman doesn't even push her previous question when she sees him become uncomfortable.
"By the way, you're hop pop wanted to speak to you about something." She spoke up, carrying a plate of food over to the table and set it down in front of him.
"Oh?" Sprig lifts a brow at her. "For what exactly?"
She shrugged. "Dunno." She confessed, wiping some of the grease from his morning meal off on her blouse. "That's something you have to take up with him. I do know he's waiting for you in the barn, however. You can have that bit of info on me." She winks at him with a laugh, walking out of the kitchen and deeper into the house.
Sylvia could be weird sometimes, well most of the time, but she was kind. More than she needed to be to him and his sister. Besides no matter how weird she could be, the old woman could make a mean ant egg omelet. So, Sprig couldn't fault her for her cooking skills alone.
He finishes his meal quickly, standing up from the table and leaving his plate where his grandma had left it. He steps out into the foyer and gives a small wave to Sylvia sitting on the couch in the living room, opens the door, and walks out into the farm.
It was a nice day out, as nice as a day around the farm could be. The sky was nearly cloudless, the crops were almost ready for harvesting and the herons stood watch over the lands like they had done each day.
The same giant herons that had killed his parents so long ago.
Sprig and his family had managed to domesticate the large carnivorous birds during the invasion though if he were being honest, he doesn't know why they keep them around. Sure, they kept the town safe, so much so that everyone had dubbed them the Wartwood monitors, though every time he looked at their towering figures in the distance, he wasn't so sure how to feel.
He takes his mind off of the giant carnivorous birds and focuses his sight on the farm's barn. Sylvia had told him that Hop Pop would be waiting inside. He wonders what the old man wanted this time. Sprig couldn't remember doing anything wrong recently, that he knew of at least.
Maybe it was to address how he'd been feeling lately. If that were the case, he probably wouldn't stay to listen to his grandfather try and cheer him up with happy words and useless allegory. Not when there was nothing wrong in the first place.
The teen opens up the barn doors slowly, looking inside for any sight of Hop Pop before fully entering. The older frog was tending to their snail Bessie. The old girl was getting on in years and couldn't haul as many things to and from town as she used to. Beside her was their relatively new snail, MicroAngalo, who had to take up most of the work the older snail used to be able to do.
Sprig walks up slowly and carefully, practically dragging his feet to his grandpa. He wasn't in the mood for being talked at. He wasn't in the mood for anything that early, not when the dream still lingered in his mind. It wasn't as clear, but the young teen could still make out bits and pieces. Mostly just her
"Yeah, yeah that's right. It's gonna be perfect ya hear?" Sprig stops just before reaching the man as he hears the muttering. His grandfather had been whispering. At first, Sprig thinks it was to Bessie but the more the man mutters the more it doesn't seem focused toward the snail. "From this day on yer life is gonna be filled with nothin' but happenis for the both of ya."
"Hey, Hop Pop." Sprig pokes at the old frog slightly taking the man by surprise.
"Oh, Sprig!" He turns around with a slight jolt. "Ya scared me, boy. I didn't hear you come in." He said, placing a hand over his aching chest.
"Yeah, sorry." The teen flashes a patient grin. "What was that you were whispering about?" Sprig asked, still smiling at the older man. It was probably none of his business, but Hop Pop made it out to be so important, he had to know for himself.
"Hmm, me? Whispering? Nothing?" Hop Pop gives him a nervous smile in return. beads of sweat begin to build and roll down his forehead, passing over his weathered wrinkles like speed bumps. "Nothing at all boy. You might just be hearing things." He stammered a chuckle.
"No, I-" Spring goes to argue, though stops. If Hop Pop was hiding something he had no right to pry. He didn't like it when the same was done to him after all. "Whatever. You wanted to talk to me about something?"
The quick reminder causes Hop Pop to jolt again as the droplets of anxious sweat dissipate. "Right!" He nearly shouts off the roof of their barn. "I need you to head into town. I've got something waiting for me there and I have to have it by today."
"Really? What is it?" Sprig decided to ask. He didn't think such a simple question would be overstepping, but not in Hop Pop's case.
"I'd rather tell you once you're back. It's really special and I think you're gonna like it." Hop Pop's nervous smile softens up.
Sprig scoffs at him. The old man was really full of it today. "Fine, keep your secrets." The teen shakes his head. "Where am I going?" He'd let the old frog be for now. Either way, he would get his answer eventually.
"Right. Felicia's holding onto it for me. All you have to do is pick it up from her but don't look inside." Hop Pop warns and Sprig nods.
"Right, Felicia. I'm on it." He says with a wave.
"And remember, don't open it!" Hop Pop calls after the boy one last time as he exits the barn. So, Felicia. Now he had to make a stop by his girlfriend's mom for a gift Hop Pop doesn't want him to know about just yet.
It wasn't the worst task in the world. Ivy meant a lot to him. Just not everything. Only one person reserved that spot in his heart, and he thinks it would be wrong to betray his feelings for someone other than her.
He could use the air anyway. being stuck in his stuffy room had really done a number on his thought process. He'd found it harder and harder to concentrate on anything other than his bed for the past week. Getting out into the world so early could be what he needed.
He would decide to walk into town. It was a bit far, but he didn't mind. It was the peace and quiet he'd been seeking all week long. A nice trip for him and only for him to enjoy.
He runs his fingers along a run-down old fence, slowly trekking down a dirt path leading from his family's farm. He'd never noticed it before, but the land was beautiful. What his family owned and far beyond that.
Sprig was always so in a rush to do things or be somewhere, even when he was younger. The young teen never actually stopped to take in the surroundings he's been through time and time again. He looks out towards the mountains they had traversed so many times, gazing at the clouds for longer than he needed to.
Some part of him was hoping that another human would come falling out of the sky to land right on top of him. He could only dream.
Wartwood was a cozy little backwater swamp with not much to it. Nothing of note to brag about, no claim to fame, well maybe one, beyond that there was nothing. A sleepy town with not much to do besides doing nothing at all.
He wasn't the only one who thought that way either. A bunch of kids, as soon as they turn eighteen, would take off, venturing to other parts of the continent, Newtopia being the most popular choice for a lot of them.
In some cases, some, such as himself very soon, would leave at an even earlier age. Wartwood was no place for carving out a future. It was a town where people retired to, not to thrive not to make something of themselves. Sprig wishes that would change but there wasn't much that could be done.
The streets were a bit quiet that day. A few frogs were hopping around here and there, but not much activity could be found otherwise. The farmer's market was bustling as it always was. That was about the only part of town that was worth visiting. That and the statue, though he thinks he stops by a bit too much.
He comes up to Felicia's shop, wasting no time as he pushes the door open and steps in. A small bell rings out as he does, a little security measure to remind the woman that customers were waiting while she was off doing something or another at the back of her shop.
Sprig doesn't wait at the counter for long when she appears and with a pleasant smile to greet him. She was another yellow frog much like her mother and daughter. Only unlike her mother's stark white hair, Felicia's was bright orange, still braided but with a crown of flowers resting on top of her head.
"Ah, Sprig." She gives him a warm welcome. "Here to see Ivy, I reckon?"
"Uh, not exactly." He brings a finger up to wipe a bit of his hair away from his eye. "Hop Pop said he needed me to pick something up for him, and that you were holding onto it." He informed the woman of the unknown gift his grandfather so desperately needed.
"Oh, hmmm..." She hums, pondering what he could mean until her eyes light up in realization. "Oh yes. Hop pops package. I nearly forgot I was holding onto that for him." Her nervous yet playful laughter spurs some sense of joy within him. It reminded him of Ivy's. "Ah, give me one sec." She vanishes into the back of her shop once again.
Sprig could hear her rummaging through bags, some boxes, and even barrels for quite a while. He leans on the counter, drumming his fingers against the carved wood as he loses himself in thought. He wonders what this package could even be for. Could it have really been that important to the old man? Could have been a new farming tool or something for the house. Hop Pop loved to decorate, and Sprig wouldn't put it past the old frog to get some new artsy piece of furniture.
A million and one speculations run through his mind until his thoughts start to drift once again. He wonders what she would do at that moment. She'd probably start ringing the ball on the countertop a thousand times while making weird mouth sounds, or even jump it and start helping Felicia look.
She was always so hands-on with the things she did. Sprig only ever wanted to be like that, from the day they first met under those difficult circumstances. All he ever wanted to be just like her.
"And here it is." Felicia's voice came back around, prodding the teen out of his thoughts. "One package for one Hopediah Plantar." She lies the wrapped-up package on the counter. It was kind of small, not like any farm tool or piece of exotic furniture he was hoping for at all.
"What is it?" He looks up to the woman and gets a thoughtless shrug.
"Dunno, but you know those two." She leans over, broadening her grin to the young teen. "Mama and Hop Pop always liked to keep it weird. Could be anything." Sprig rolls his eyes over. Of course, he wouldn't get an answer.
"Well thinks anyway." He scoops up the little package, waving the woman goodbye as he steps out past the door and back into boring old wartwood.
He looks around the semi-empty streets for an inkling of what to do next. He could go back home now or hang around for a bit longer, though there was nothing much to do around town there had still been activities to partake in. He could drop by to see Wally or Maddie to see what they were up to today.
The young teen could also make a stop by the tavern to drown his recent feelings at the bottom of a mug, though it might have been too early for that. Sprig usually went at night to prevent little rumors from being tossed around by people he knew. He also never told Hop Pop or any of his family about spending time at the town's tavern otherwise they all would have a fit if they knew.
When he decides it was a bit too early for a drink he wasn't even supposed to be having, he brings his eyes around to seek other sources of entertainment. Though his options were starting to quickly waver.
Going back home seemed like the right move until his eyes landed on something, large and carved of stone. It sat in the center of town like it always had, keeping watch over everyone and everything in Wartwood. Sprig thinks he shouldn't, visiting only ever made him feel sad. But he has to see her again. He always had to see her.
He stops in front of her statue. He thinks it's been a while. The stone was a spitting image of her. same messy hair sat atop her head and one shoe missing from her right foot. She held a box tucked in one arm and kept a sword raised with the other. Wartwoods one and only claim to fame. Amphibais hero. His hero.
He'd always try to avoid the monument, to keep himself from looking but every once in a while, he found himself standing in front of it, gazing up at her image. He never did much, just staring and thinking about what she had been doing.
Did a new session of Suspicion Island Air? Did a new Love Choice movie come out? And if it had, did she watch it already? Was she watching it now? Was she surfing the internet or oversleeping? Was she thinking about him? Dreaming about him like he had her? He'd like to think she was.
Sprig sat at the base of the monument to his friend, his entire world that had gone and left him where he was. He remembers when he and her would camp out on the farm. She liked to try and pull these things called all-nighters where the challenge was to stay awake until the crack of dawn. They'd read and look up at the stars but Sprig would never stay awake for long.
He'd always end up passing out in her lap every time. All he wants is to go back to those days. To be near her again and to feel her skin up against his.
"Hey, Sprig." His tired eyes shoot back open. The boy was on the brink of passing out when a voice brought his mind and body back to Wartwood.
It was the voice of a girl, young and ambitious. He looks up but can only make out the silhouette of her form. Wild hair looms above him like fire in the sun's rays. "Is that...?" His heart starts up again like it had done in his dreams, pounding relentlessly, begging to break free from its isolated cage. It would calm down once his eyes began to adjust to the light around the girl. "Oh... Ivy..."
"What!?" Ivy gasps in mock shock. "Is that how you greet the girl you love, oh Ivy." She mocks him with an overly exaggerated version of his voice. He'd forgotten she had grown her hair out so much. For a brief moment, he swore it was someone else.
"Sorry I just, uh..." He stops and looks back up to the stone statue above. "Sorry..." He murmured, still looking up at the statue.
Ivy looks at him, then up to the statue, and soon brings a worried gaze back down to him. "Still miss her I guess." She held an empathetic look on her expression and kept her tone low. Sprig doesn't answer. He didn't want to repeat what he already knew. "Uhh, hey, so you ready for the expedition in a few weeks? You know Yunan already set up a beachhead for the next wave to venture further into the mainland." Ivy said, changing the subject to something he'd be more willing to discuss.
It works when the boy looks back over to her with a relieved smile. "You have no idea. The sooner we can leave the better." He lets a small chuckle vacate his mouth as he shakes his head. He would have left sooner along with Yunan, but the thought of sitting on a beach for weeks wasn't his idea of adventure.
"Yeah..." She slowly steps over, kneeling by his side at the base of the statue. "At some point, little old Wartwood just got too small huh?" She spoke softly, running her fingers over his hand. Slowly guiding her digits up and back down his arm. "But now there's something better waiting for us."
She takes his hand up in hers and gently squeezes and he does the same back to her as the worry racking his mind melts away. He looks up and the statue again. "Yeah... something better." He gazes back into Ivy's pearly spheres and leans into her. Maybe he was blowing things way out of proportion. All this time in Wartwood was getting to him.
Once he got away all his concerns would fall into obscurity, he just knows it. All the young teen needed was Ivy and the call to adventure. Anything other than that was meaningless and better left in the past where it belonged. Or so he thinks.
"Hey so, I saw you in mom's shop." Ivy starts. "What were you grabbing? Tea to soothe your weary soul?" She snickers and he returns a subdued smirk.
"Nah, nothing like that..." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the small package. "Just this." He brought it into view, holding the small item up for the girl to inspect.
She leans in close and squints her eyes. "What is it?" She asked the very same question that'd been on his mind all morning.
"Don't know but Hop Pop needs it so..." Ivy's brows narrow at him. Her staring makes him feel a bit uncomfortable. "What?"
"What do you mean what." She begins to chastise the teenager beneath her. "Don't you think you should be getting that back to him then?" Sprig lifts his shoulders. A look of unconcern rests flat on his face and Ivy throws her head back with an annoyed grunt. "Come on." She reaches out a hand and pulls him off the ground once he takes it.
Ivy begins to drag him off, away from the statue, out of Wartwood, and back to his family's farm. He takes one look back at her image before they can get too far away and mummers. "Until next time."
They reach his farm. the day had been winding down. The sun wasn't fully set but it sure had been on its way over the horizon. He didn't think he'd be out for so long or how much time he had spent by her statue, but he was back now. Didn't matter how he felt about it.
They walk up to the house and to Hop Pop sitting on a rocking chair out front. "Sprig you're back, and with Ivy I see." He stood up as the two approached.
"Sorry, we're so late. I had to practically drag him here." She points a thumb over at the pouting boy.
Hop Pop laughed. "Don't worry about it. You know how he is when he gets into one of his moods." He waved off the delay while causing Sprig's already deep frown to deepen into a toothy sneer. "Say Ivy why don't you go fetch Polly and your grandma. I want to talk to Sprig for a bit."
"You got it Hop Pop." Ivy nods, taking off past the front door and into the Plantar's home.
He looks to Sprig with an innocent grin. "So. Did ya get it, boy?" The question had to be rhetorical. Hop Pop knew he wasn't that much of a screw-up. At least he hoped his grandfather didn't see him that way.
"Yeah..." He pulls the package out with a bemused snicker and hands it over. "Are you gonna tell me what it is yet? Seems a little too small to be anything important." The young teen said, causing his grandfather to violently gasp in a heap of dry air.
"Sprig!" He shouts in surprise. Sprig looks around confused. Had he said something wrong? The teen couldn't tell if he did. "This is very important, probably the most important thing in life. Our family was built off of things like this, you and Polly wouldn't be here if it wasn't for this." The old man held the box up to the boy. Sprig had to admit he was starting to get scared and a bit excited at the same time. In fact, his confused expression was probably the reason his grandfather decided to calm down. "Look... I only wanted to tell you before your big trip. You'll be so far away and..."
Hop Pop stops, his eyes starting to water up. "Hop pop." Sprig groaned. "That won't happen for another six weeks Hop pop. It's not like I'm leaving tomorrow." He said, getting the older frogs' tears to subside before they could arrive in full force.
"I know, I know. It's just-" Hop Pop paused. "Time can fly by so fast. Before you know it, your kids are all grown up and movin' on out the house." Hop Pop nearly choked out those last words and boy did Sprig know the feeling. The passage of time and the exodus of family. He knew it all too well. "Well anyway... what do you say we get inside?" He said, motioning the young frog into the house.
Sprig was the first to step in. His family and Ivy had all been gathered in the living room, as curious as he'd been.
Hop Pop enters soon after, his hands held conspicuously behind his back and his knees shaky. He approaches Sylvia with a river of sweat pouring down his worried face. It was identical to a look he shared with Sprig in the barn earlier.
"Sylvia." He stops before the woman. He looks like he's contemplating every single one of his life's choices up until that moment. Sprig wonders why that could be. "I know we've been dating for four years, and I figure now's the right time to ask. You've made me such a happy man these last few years, my days are much brighter since you stepped into my life."
"Wait..." Sprig mutters once he sees his grandfather attempting to get down on one knee with hard-fought success. He pulls a small box out from behind his back and flicks it tiny thing open.
"Sylvia Sundew. Well, you do this frog the honor of making him a happy man?"
"What?" Sprig blurts.
Sylvia brought her hands up to her mouth in shock. "Ohhhhh, Hopediah yes!" She hobbles over to him and wraps the old frog into a tight hug.
The room erupts into cheers, all say for Sprig who'd still been too surprised to even think straight.
"Oh Sylvia, you don't know how happy that makes me." The man says as he's slowly helped back onto his feet by his newlywed wife. "I already got everything planned. The wedding's taking place in six weeks, just before Sprig's big trip."
The young teen was at a loss for words and reason. After all this time, His grandfather and Sylvia were tying the knot. He was expecting it to happen sooner or later sure, but once it actually does, the news hits him harder than he thought it would.
He thinks that's just great. Another stressor to add to his long list that week.