Lost in the Woods
Exhausted out of his mind, Fergus had crashed deep in the tall thickets of the sunflower fields the night of the jailbreak. Luckily, the morning came with no disturbances, save for a crow excavating any potential morsels from his ears. Ironically, it was the crow that would become a morsel for the ogre it made the mistake of scavenging from.
In the panic and delirium of the escape and the following fight, Fergus had no idea what direction he'd been heading in when he stopped for the night. Though, to be perfectly honest, he hadn't exactly known that part when he'd angrily set off, either - he had just claimed Felicia's initial direction, with no deeper motive. Not like she knew where she'd been headed, either. He didn't care what direction he went in, just as long as it wasn't the same as either sibling. And now he couldn't even ensure that.
The two weeks that had passed since that first day on his own had been some of the best in his recent memory. He could stop when he wanted, turn in for the night and rise in the morning when he wanted, examine the local flora and fauna for as long as he liked. It amazed him how fast time flew when he was allowed to just exist, without obligations or pressures or two exceedingly loud, opinionated, whining, mocking ogres in his ear.
Looking back, he really hadn't considered how he expected to survive six months with his siblings under foot. Maybe all of Felicia and Farkle's pigheadedness had actually resulted in a good thing.
Even though their parents still thought they were together.
Even though their mother would be upset to find out they'd separated.
Even though their father would be… upset that their mother would be upset.
Even though it'd be nice to go home for Christmas in - he fished his notebook from his sack and flipped to his hastily scribbled calendar - two months, just about.
But… was Christmas an "ogre" thing to do?
He tried not to dwell on Felicia's rantings - something he was usually quite good at, but there was something that refused to dislodge from the back of his mind. Perhaps because Farkle actually agreed with her - the rarity of that was cause for concern alone.
Was it said in anger? Or is it what she'd thought of him all along? What both of them thought of him?
Well… so what if Christmas wasn't an ogre thing? Really, not caring whether something was ogre-like or not, was the true ogre thing to do.
Fergus would be home for Christmas. He couldn't control the others. And having to tell his parents why they weren't with him… would just have to be a concern for future Fergus to worry about.
They may decide to head back for Christmas themselves. There was a non-zero chance of that happening. As tough as Felicia liked to think herself to be, Fergus knew she actually did care, and quite a lot. And as swaggeringly aloof as Farkle seemed, he cared, too.
But Fergus wouldn't hold his breath.
Cutting through the cornfields was initially just the only direction left for Farkle to take that hadn't already been claimed by the others. That it offered him ample opportunity to replenish his food supply, was an added bonus. Farkle hadn't intended to keep walking all the way back through it, he'd just gotten distracted by collecting the best crops of someone else's hard farming work, and then eating said crops.
He zigged some days, zagged others, choosing a new direction to walk in with each rise of the sun. After two weeks, he found himself exiting a vast field of tall grass onto a path at the edge of a great pine forest, which itself was at the base of a snow-capped mountain range. His heart sank as he disappointingly knew exactly where he was.
He looked to his right further down the path, and could just make out the large slate-blue billboard installed on the side of the road, which he knew read "700 Miles to Far Away." A route he'd been well acquainted with over his life. He really thought he'd done better to get himself lost lost, having avoided any remote suggestion of a road or path, cutting through the thickest grass and most unkind overgrowths. But no, he was somewhere entirely familiar and wholly uninteresting, despite his best efforts.
Not having a map to anywhere was supposed to be his freedom; he realized, however, it was anything but.
Farkle let out a frustrated sigh and roughed his hair irately. Following the road to Far Far Away obviously wasn't an option. He looked into the dark, dense pines across the road, and the tips of the great mountains beyond them. That might be something to do. His gaze then trailed down the path's other direction… toward home.
Not toward home. Toward his girlfriend's house. Which was just in the same general area as home.
Being in a relationship wasn't anything new to Farkle - he'd had his share of them. But this one was different. It was the longest he'd had, sure, now going into its fifth month of being official, though they'd known they liked each other for a good while before that. But time aside, he'd never felt like he did about Renna, about any of the previous girls. Farkle wasn't exactly known for being the most sensitive ogre, so his siblings missed no opportunity to poke fun at him whenever Renna was over at their house, or he mentioned her. As much as he denied it when his siblings mocked him about it, he did miss Renna. Fergus and Felicia obviously didn't understand, as they weren't in long-term committed relationships. Not that Felicia hadn't tried - quite the contrary. The fact her best friend was her brother's girlfriend likely didn't help with… whatever hang-up she had regarding love. And Fergus… well, he'd never really shown any interest in any of that. Whatever.
Had this been any other girl, he probably would have gently ended things before Leaving Day, for both of their freedoms' sake. But… he didn't want to do that with Renna. And she agreed. She knew he'd be gone for months without real means of communication - he could perhaps send her a letter, if he had the opportunity, but she didn't have the same luxury. So… since he found himself basically down the way from her anyway… why not?
There weren't any Leaving rules against significant others, after all. Especially since Renna wasn't even an ogre herself.
Not that the rules were a huge concern. Most of them they'd modified or just plain ignored, anyway.
His dad married a princess of human descent when he wasn't supposed to. Farkle visiting his elven girlfriend was nothing in comparison. Besides, he was an adult now. He could do what he pleased.
And hey, he could always decide to not go through with his visit at any point as he journeyed back down that familiar road. If anything, it'd let him stock up on some of his favorite delicacies only found in the area.
Felicia splashed murky water onto her face from the brook she'd happened upon within a particularly dense patch of forest that morning. She rubbed the fine silt over her cheeks and nose, letting it refresh her, and looked at her reflection in the rippling semi-opaque water. She tousled her bangs off her forehead, and adjusted the auburn knot of hair atop her head.
She'd been sleeping better in the last two weeks she'd been on her own than she had prior, constantly hearing her brothers' breathing and coughing and other irritating mouth sounds.
Felicia would have attributed her improved mood in finally being free of their hindering presences, of course. But it may have had more than a little to do with her no longer worrying that Sir Squeakles had been lost, having left him in her bag up that tree for a week while in jail. She hadn't mentioned it to her brothers while they were incarcerated because she knew they'd just mock her about it. Even though they had their toys in their bags. She wondered if they'd been worried over them, too.
Not like she cared, of course.
Felicia gripped the tattered doll tighter in her hand as she stepped over a fallen log, heading back toward the main path she'd briefly diverted from. She stepped down onto a particularly leafy area, under a strong-branched tree. Before she processed the hatched rope under her shoe, she found herself violently yanked several feet off the ground, caught in the tangle of a trapping net.
She frantically attempted to get her knife from her bag to cut herself free, but it was inaccessibly caught under her in the mad mess the net held her in.
Heavy footfalls soon hit her ears, running quickly toward from further down the path. Her heart raced in panicked desperation.
"HEY! What do you think– ...wait, Felicia?"
The voice stopped her, her adrenaline converting to nerves as she realized whoever had trapped her, clearly knew her. The voice was strangely familiar, and utterly unknown all at once.
Felicia managed to position her eyes in the diamond-shaped knits of the net, her face squishing into the rope like a ham. Her eyes were finally able to focus on the individual responsible for this trap, standing before her: an ogre.
"...Ivvrett?"
Felicia blinked, her nose still being held nostrils-up by the net. Ivvrett was an old playmate of hers and her brothers, about their same age. He of course looked much the same as when she'd last seen him - an unruly tuft of straw-yellow hair with the texture to match, and thick, dark eyebrows above hazel eyes. He'd certainly grown up a bit in that time, too - his jaw had strengthened, his arms and legs had filled out, as had his gut, and even from her midair perspective, she could tell he was taller than either of her brothers. It had been, what - four years, a little more? - since he'd Left, pretty soon after her parents had first broached the topic of Leaving Day with them three, come to think of it.
"Wow, um– hi!" Ivvrett blurted, his tone friendly if not completely surprised. "What're you doing here?"
"Oh, you know–" Felicia began, quickly realizing she had no desire to have a chat from her current position. "Hey, so, I don't wanna ruin your net with my knife, so if you could, uh–" Felicia pressed against the rough rope she was bagged up in, causing herself to sway.
"Oh! Right right–" Ivvrett stammered, as he went over to the trunk of the tree, untying the knot that kept the net and its bounty suspended.
WIth nothing holding her aloft any longer, Felicia met the ground with a sound thump, the net falling loose over her. She was actually quite thankful she hadn't been able to reach her knife, after all, as that might have ended quite differently.
Ivvrett winced in spite of himself. "You good?"
"Yeah," Felicia scoffed, "I've had way worse." As she tossed the net off of her, she realized she still held Sir Squeakles, which she quickly slipped back into her sack without detection.
"Oh yeah, I bet," Ivvrett replied. He offered his hand to help her up, which she took.
"I'm surprised you recognized me, being bagged up in that–" Felicia began, brushing herself off.
"It was the hair," Ivvrett finished matter-of-factly.
"...Right." She uttered a mirthless exhale.
"So! How long have you been gone?"
Felicia looked at him, realizing what he was asking. "Oh! Um–" Her mind made an instant decision before her face had a chance to betray her. "I Left a bit after you did, actually. Yeah! We all did, my brothers and me. But yeah, I've been just– you know. Out. Left." She chuckled incredibly nonchalantly.
"Well, I'm glad I caught you before you did slice up my net," Ivvrett gestured at his dismantled trap, "I uh, didn't really expect to–"
"Neither did I!" Felicia interrupted with a laugh. Their eyes met a moment before they looked away.
"Well," Ivvrett sighed, attempting to be casual, "What direction were you headed in?"
"Oh, uh–" Felicia began, remembering she had a story to maintain, "I wasn't really, um–"
"I just meant like–" Ivvrett started in quickly, "I have a place a bit of a ways from here, I was just out here trying to catch some– heh…" Ivvrett scratched the back of his neck, looking back at Felicia. "If you weren't in any hurry to get wherever it was you were headed," he finally offered, "if you wanted to, you know, walk with me a bit…"
"Yeah," Felicia accepted. "I'd like that."
The next three weeks were largely uneventful for Fergus. He'd stayed quite awhile in the old, dilapidated windmill that had been in his path. It was covered in brown leaves and flowers - mandevillas? - dying as the climate was quickly cooling. The dank interior was a treasure trove of insects, and having a roof - a hole in its neglected thatching notwithstanding - was nice.
After leaving his extended stay there, he spotted a massive, thick-trunked tree - unique from the throngs of birches and sycamores that surrounded Duloc - off in the distance, atop its own hill. He decided that was as good as any landmark to head toward. The sun was low in the late afternoon sky by the time he reached it, so made it his campsite for the night. It was another type of sycamore, to his surprise. He peeled a nice piece of bark from the trunk as a memento.
Looking out from the tall hill he found himself on, across the monotonous sea of green all around him, he spotted a field with large, misshapen rock formations sporadically sticking out of an otherwise innocuous field of purple flowers. Now that was interesting-looking. It was again late afternoon as he approached the first of the jutting stone mini-mountains that interrupted the expanse of… tulips? Crocuses?
The rock was at least five times his height, far taller than he'd estimated from afar. He ran his hand across the uneven surface of the natural obelisk, trying to determine its rock type. It was sedimentary, obviously, but what specifically… ironstone, perhaps? His fingers detected imperfections in its surface that were sharper than most, meaning shards had been shed fairly recently. He crouched, eagerly feeling around the ground at its base for such fallings. Each hand discovered a shard - in his left, a small piece, and in his right, a far larger one. Both were quite sharp on its edges. Yes! Fergus could fashion a knife from the larger one, having needed one since his pocket knife fell victim to the DKD. The smaller one could be used to further hone the larger's edge. Now he just needed a piece of wood for a handle.
He couldn't wait to show–
Oh.
Right.
Fergus took a seat in the ample shade of the massive stone form, surrounded by the purple flowers. He picked one, placing it between two pages of his notebook, and then placed the notebook under his rear end to properly press it. It might make a good Christmas gift for Mom.
The next leg gave him little else except wide open fields - he could have perhaps traversed it quicker given the easy terrain, but the lack of interesting landmarks seemed to dampen his energy. As he continued, he noted the grass slowly began to thin, revealing more and more of the pale dirt below it, until he was walking on dry, cracked earth. Fergus looked further ahead, and noticed rock formations, different from the ones in the flower field - darker, almost like petrified wood. And much larger. Further away still, the ground gave way into a vast valley dotted with more sharp rocks, leading up to an impossibly tall mountain. His attention then fell onto a spiral of dark clouds gathered around the top of that mountain.
"Hmm. Storm brewing?" he asked aloud.
He looked at the sky all around him - it was blue and nary a cloud to be seen. The distant mountaintop's dark cloud cover was unique.
Well, whatever weather pattern that was happening around that mountain, he wanted no part of. He wasn't really in the mood for rain or wind, much less snow - he'd have snow aplenty to deal with in the coming winter. Maybe he could come back later, when that storm had passed.
Standing there, looking at the dead end he'd come upon, suddenly made Fergus aware of his tired legs, his sore feet, and his rumbling stomach. He let his sack drop off his back, and he sat against the tall, oblong rock beside him. He let his head tilt back against the hard stone, and exhaled.
He couldn't go home for Christmas alone.
His mother would be crushed. His father perhaps less so, as he understood Leaving, but him as well. That would be the problem future Fergus would be left with. Fergus could bring back a dozen gifts with him, it wouldn't make up for only one of three kids showing up for the first Christmas since Leaving.
One of four? Well, not yet. Technically. Whatever.
No. They'd be there. Because Fergus was going to track them down.
He wasn't responsible for either Farkle or Felicia, no. But he was more responsible than them. And he was going to make sure they were home for Christmas alongside him. Or at least try his hardest to do so. He couldn't allow himself to not try; he didn't do well with guilt.
And if one of them refused? Or both of them? Well, then he'd have no qualms with telling his parents precisely why they weren't there. He did miss being a tattletale every now and then.
Besides, it'd been over a month since they'd gone their separate ways. That was probably long enough to get over… whatever it was that they'd been fighting about when they split.
Oh, right… him being a sorry excuse for an ogre.
Did what they said to him that night still bother him? Maybe. But he could bet they might feel bad about saying it. At least they should. And if they didn't, he'd make them.
Fergus pushed himself back onto his feet and pulled a handful of dried cockroaches from the bottom of his sack, shoving them into his mouth.
He took a last look at the stormy clouds off in the distance as he slung his bag over his shoulders. So much for that.
His plan was settled: head back the way he came, retrace his steps and landmarks, and hope there was something remaining at the edge of the cornfields to track Farkle and Felicia.
Farkle didn't beeline for Renna's house - he did much the same as he'd been doing before, zigging and zagging every other day, though more purposefully as he knew his ultimate destination. He also wanted to explore all the things he'd seen in family carriage trips to Far Far Away over the years that he'd never gotten the chance to before. There was a particularly large tree with a huge, hollowed-out knot he could finally excavate - it had a couple of tasty scorpions relaxing in it. Deeper into the pines, there was also a rock structure he'd spotted as a child, but it was too close to home for his parents to agree to stop the carriage. It did end up being just a pile of rocks, but he knew that now.
As an added bonus, it was Halloween when he passed a lone farmhouse out in the countryside, so he had a little fun lightly terrorizing its residents and livestock.
It ended up being three more weeks when he finally arrived at the edge of the forest that both Renna's house, and his own, sat deep within. Luckily, he didn't need to go anywhere near the swamp to get to hers.
Each tree he passed, the patches of flowers around each trunk, he knew. He was about a quarter mile from her–
A twig suddenly snapped, far in the distance. Farkle almost pulled a muscle in his neck as he whipped around to the direction it came from. Such a sound normally wouldn't be any cause for concern, except that twig sounded particularly thick, really more of a thin branch; the weight of whatever– whoever snapped it was far too large to be any woodland creature.
An all too familiar, exasperated huff from the same direction made Farkle's blood run cold.
"Aye, gotta get the black mushrooms with the red spots… not even in season right now, Fiona…" Shrek grumbled to himself.
Farkle pressed himself against the backside of the nearest tree, his heart sent into overdrive.
The only thing worse than crossing paths with Duloc knights, was crossing paths with his father.
He couldn't be seen near home like this. Not by his dad.
He could climb the tree? No, Dad would surely see him. He could run? He'd be spotted. Shrek was still far off, but Farkle could hear that he was meandering in his general direction. He was running out of time to make a decision.
Farkle carefully peeled himself off of the bark he'd flattened himself against, taking as quiet and quick steps backwards as he could, facing the direction his father approached from. He suddenly fell back as his foot went straight through the ground. Farkle covered his mouth lest he make a sound, losing precious seconds of escape. He realized he'd come upon an underground cave of sorts, from some animal large enough to make a hole that even he could fall into.
It was his only option.
Farkle wriggled further down the tunnel-cave, pulling his sack with him. He pressed himself as far back against the dirt as he could, with what little room he had to maneuver. He looked up at the sporadic rays of sun that shone down onto him, realizing the top of the cave was covered with vines and branches - and would have been quite obvious to him, had he been more aware of his surroundings. Farkle grabbed handfuls of dirt, covering his clothes, his hair, his skin, his bag, every last inch. All Farkle could do was lay there, perfectly still, save for his heart slamming against his ribcage. The vibrations of approaching steps were palpable in the earth around him.
"A'course she's cravin' things that're impossible to find this time'a year…" Shrek's grousing was growing closer, his shadow in the late afternoon sun briefly interrupting the sprinkling of light down into Farkle's hiding spot. Farkle's eyes darted to the hole that his foot had made in the first place… that he hadn't thought to cover back up.
Grimm.
"Hm…" Shrek's utterance was closer, though his steps were still several feet away, clearly having noted the unstable ground. Farkle knew his father was considering the hole, hopeful the mushrooms he was after might be down it. Farkle was afraid to continue looking up, lest his father catch the shine of his eyes, so he closed them and braced himself for discovery.
Farkle felt Shrek lay down on the ground, across from the unstable surface of the cave. Farkle dared to open an eye, in time to see his father's arm reach haphazardly down the hole, feeling around the dirt for fungi. Shrek's reach ended less than a foot from Farkle's leg, to which Farkle clenched his entire being to resist moving it.
After an eternal moment, Farkle heard his father sigh in defeat, and his burlap sleeved-arm retracted back up and out of the hole. Shrek rose back up to his feet, with a small grunt of effort, and Farkle allowed himself to exhale discreetly.
As Shrek began to clap his hands clean, he suddenly froze. He sniffed, and his head swiveled to look around him.
No. No no no no no. Farkle closed his eyes, his premature victory spiraling back into defeat. It felt like hours laying there, a sitting duck for his father to inevitably find.
Shrek took a final inhale, the air still and quiet around him… and below him.
"Hah," Shrek exhaled, relief and amusement apparent. "Could'a sworn I smelled… heh, yer losin' it, old man…" He took a step back in the direction of the swamp. "Ah!" he suddenly exclaimed, and Farkle felt like he may just expire then and there, conveniently laying in a pre-dug grave. Shrek knelt down, away from the cave's hole. "Gotcha!" Shrek chuckled victoriously, and sighed. "So, I found one. That'll hafta do, Fi. I'll getcha some other delectables to make up fer it."
Farkle opened one eye again, a bit lightheaded, and watched his father walk away from what was somehow not Farkle's demise. He lay there for several more minutes, until his father was completely and utterly gone.
Farkle pushed himself back up through the hole he'd crashed through what was realistically only a handful of minutes ago, but felt like a year. He pulled his bag out and onto his back, and trudged his dirt-caked self to the nearest pond. He dunked his hands into the cold water and rubbed his face roughly.
He, of all ogres, was almost caught doing the unthinkable - going back home. No, he wasn't literally "going home," but that wasn't the point.
He knew his mother wanted to see them sooner than the rules outlined, and that his father certainly wouldn't have objected to that. But that was different. Not like this.
Farkle was an ogre's ogre, like his father. If he wasn't… what else did he have?
Felicia called Fergus a sorry excuse for an ogre the last they saw each other, over a month ago. But was it he who actually fit that title?
Farkle took a deep breath, shaking the creeping thoughts and instead focusing on how nice it was to breathe fresh air, free of a cramped hole in the ground.
He didn't get caught, right? That was pretty damn good stealth on his part, avoiding his father, of all ogres.
He saw the next tree that led to Renna's house, but paused. Was he still doing this? After what he'd just barely missed?
Of course he was. He'd already come all this way. Had he narrowly avoided crossing paths with Dad for nothing?
It didn't take Farkle long before the rear of Renna's family's house came into view. Suddenly and without warning, he felt incredibly nervous. He paused behind a tree, just out of view of her bedroom window.
What if… what if she'd moved on? What if she was seeing someone else? He'd been gone for over a month without any contact. Really, he wouldn't blame her. Even though they agreed to wait for each other.
He suddenly wanted to run again, just as terrified as he had been when his father was mere inches from discovering him. If she had moved on, he didn't want to know. He could find out later.
He then heard the faintest, but unmistakable sound: Renna's soft humming to herself, a little made-up tune.
Again, he pressed himself flat to the thick trunk, and dared to peek around it to watch her walk up the path from the opposite direction, toward her front door. A basket of freshly picked flowers hung off her lithe arm.
Okay… it was nice to see her. She was even prettier than his mental image of her, but she always was, even if it'd only been a day since he'd last seen her. Her long brown hair swished lightly as she walked, the ends grazing the backs of her legs at its length. Even from a distance, Farkle could see the golden sun dance in her green eyes.
He heard her front door open, then close, and a moment later, her silhouette moved behind her window. His mind bounced back and forth: should he knock on her door? Or make a break back into the forest, far away from her house or his, or anywhere else he knew?
Her mother might tell his that she saw him, he ruefully concluded. And he was convinced that her mother wasn't fond her her dating him, anyway.
Farkle picked up a small pebble next to his foot, as he often had, rolling it in his fingers as he quietly snuck closer to Renna's window, tree by tree. When he was comfortably close, he flicked it at the glass pane, immediately hiding back behind his tree cover. He soon heard her window hinges creak open. He knew she was leaning out, looking for the usual culprit. He almost poked his head out from his hiding place, but a voice stopped him.
"Ren, what was that?" Farkle heard her mother ask from within the house.
"Uh… nothing, I guess," Renna replied. "I thought it was– nevermind."
Renna didn't close her window right away, Farkle sensed. After a moment, she spoke again, voice low lest her mother hear. "If that was who I think it was… hi." Farkle heard the smile in her voice on her last word. The window hinges finally creaked closed.
Farkle suddenly felt a sadness within him. He wished he could've seen her. Actually seen her, talked to her. But there was too much at risk. Her mother would absolutely tell his mother if she saw him. He'd already gotten too uncomfortably close to that happening for one day.
But it was kind of fun pranking Renna. And she said hi.
He'd tell her all about it when he saw her next. Maybe Christmas.
Felicia hadn't meant to stay with Ivvrett for as long as she had.
What was meant to be a nice walk together, turned into a nice dinner, which turned into the pair camping out for the night, across the fire from each other in front of Ivvrett's house. It was a nice little house, half of a natural stone cave, with additional walls, windows, and a door he'd built onto it. A modest sized dwelling for one young ogre, and cozy for two.
Before she knew it, another three weeks had passed. Except she never knew it, because she'd lost track of time.
It helped that Ivvrett wasn't too concerned with time, or days, or any of that. Like a real ogre. Each day was its own adventure, what food would be caught or gathered, where he would go, what he would see and do. It was all up to him, because it was his life. And Felicia was living - finally, living - hers.
They'd gotten to know each other better in their time together, since they'd last seen each other as just-barely-teenagers: Ivvrett had had quite the adventures himself, showing Felicia the scars from torch burns, pitchfork punctures, and rope burns - they were all barely visible now, having earned them early into his Leaving when he was smaller and less intimidating. He'd then asked to see hers. Felicia rolled up her pant leg to show him the healed remains of what was a rather nasty gash on her thigh. Did she tell him it was from the rusty tine of a pitchfork? Yes. Was it actually from falling out of a tree in her front yard? Maybe.
The story she cemented in her mind, that she'd told Ivvrett and at times started to believe herself, was that she and her brothers were booted all at once, without a sentiment or cent to their names. She hadn't seen her parents or siblings since that day, which was of course just a bit after Ivvrett's own Leaving. She'd tried to settle somewhere herself, of course she had, but found it exceedingly difficult. Why? She'd so far managed to avoid fully answering by mumbling something about mobs, which Ivvrett didn't prod into, and that was good enough for her.
The two shared cooking tips, and told their rudest jokes. Felicia would have taught him to lock pick with her quill, but there wasn't a lock around to practice on.
It was a few days into Felicia's time with Ivvrett that they kissed for the first time, sitting around the fire in front of the house, the sun setting in front of them.
"I, um…" Ivvrett had said as they parted, "always did have a bit of a crush on you."
"I know you did," Felicia replied, to which Ivvrett's cheeks flushed. "I did, too. You." The two leaned in for another kiss, when the scent of burning hit both of their nostrils - their dinner was scorching over the fire, which they spent the next several minutes salvaging with more than a little laughter.
It was nice being with someone, Felicia admitted. Someone she chose to be with. Someone who chose to be with her.
Which is why it had been so easy to let three weeks pass by without a second thought. It was nice. It was fun. It was hers.
She walked back to the house with a basket of herbs she'd gathered for the evening's roast dinner of… whatever creature they could get their hands on. As she rounded the house toward the front door, Ivvrett was himself returning as well, a jar of freshly harvested slugs in one hand, a great handful of leeks in the other.
"Nice," he glanced down into Felicia's basket. "I think we have enough nettles to last another month, though! You've gathered a lot already this week." He pecked her on the lips, and walked into the house with his haul.
Felicia remained outside, standing frozen where she'd met Ivvrett. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, her mind churning with his completely innocuous words.
She had gathered a lot of nettles yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.
She'd gotten complacent. She'd gotten boring. She was… turning into her mother.
No. No. No. No. No.
Was she happy? She didn't even know anymore. Or was she just falling under the intoxicating spell of "the same old, same old"? Would she wake up one day with twenty years having passed by without her even knowing?
She felt her chest tighten, her skin began to crawl. This wasn't what Leaving was, either.
Or was it?
What did she know?
Ivvrett was nice. He liked her, quite a lot. And she… liked him. She did.
Did she? Or was he just cute? A boy she had a crush on years ago? Romanticized after he Left?
She didn't want to hurt him, because he was nice, and he did like her. But how could she manage to–
"Felicia?" Ivvrett cracked the door open. "Were you coming in?"
"Hm?" She replied, snapped back to the here and now. After all, that's all that mattered, right? The here and now?
"Were you coming inside?" he repeated.
"Oh! Yeah," she assured him chipperly, "I was just– thinking if we needed anything else."
"Okay." Ivvrett smiled at her from the crack in the door, and closed it.
Felicia exhaled quietly, her mind still racing.
She had to get out of there.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Huge thanks to hanny spoon for a LOT of help on how the kids fare on their own. (Also big big thanks for letting me include her OC Renna, who she first introduced in the chapter "The Right Way" in her fic "By Night One Way.")
I'm also very excited for the next chapter. That is all.
Big thanks as always additionally to fauxgre, Alethyia, TP_HOND_S124, and my anonymous readers. Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated. :)
