Zelda the Gray Quiet One
Book 1 - Of Butterflies and Elves
Chapter One – Baloney Butterflies
Summary: I'm nothing like my sister. While she's out and about exploring the wilderness. I spend most of my days huddled around the fireplace reading books, watching DVD's, snuggling Twig, and all in all being a smol couch potato. When ideas of moving to the city pops up, she was distressed, while I was apathetic.
Hunter Tracks
"-I'm gonna grab some berries. Be right back!"
Below the mountains, an old forest hums in whispered melody by a tender breeze bristling its stiff branches. Its warm wilted red-orange leaves brought a cosy demeanour with the wind plucking one off its brittle stem and letting it fall off, adding to the ever-growing pile below. The surprisingly wide forest floor is illuminated by the glow of sparse sunlight breaking through the canopy.
A forest at peace whispers its secrets untold.
Till' a girl's bright red boots ran unceremoniously through a pile of leaves, giggling as they exploded everywhere.
"Pwah, I got some in my mouth," she spits, then resumes her pace through the woods. She darts around the mighty trunks of the great Northern pine, her bright eyes taking in the shrouded atmosphere beneath the canopies.
Slowing down, she kneels by a green shrub nestled in the red-orange thicket. Peering through the plant, she uncovers a hidden cove of berries.
"Bingo!" She plucks a berry and pops it into her mouth, moaning in delight at the ripe, sweet burst of flavour. "This will go perfectly with the lunch Mum made for us."
Pushing her blue hair to the side, she quickly forages, taking only what she needs. "I think this is enough," she smiles proudly at the assorted pile in her basket.
Dusting off her blue skirt, she jogs and makes a game of jumping into leaf piles along the way. Soon, the wind picks up again. And with the wind in her hair, she propels forth through the flurry of red-orange leaves.
Her red jumper and yellow scarf blend with the colourful autumn foliage, starkly contrasting her long, unnatural blue hair. The black beret threatens to be swept off her head, but her resolve remains unwavering as she picks up the pace.
The wind dies just as her red boots skid to a stop at her destination—a sunny forest clearing with a lone mossy rock pile in the middle.
"I'm back!" she announces to no one in particular. She checks her basket, noting the pile of freshly picked berries next to a packed lunchbox and a space that could fit more.
"We can go back on the trail now," she says, still focused on her basket.
"Oh! I can't wait to run around the meadows! I bet it's full of all sorts of flowers this time around. And ooh, don't forget the surprise~!" she sings.
"What do you think, sis—?" She finally looks up and sees no one is there.
…
"Sis?"
She stares at the empty spot where she expects her sister and pet to be. Looking around, she scratches her head and cups her mouth, calling out again.
"Sis, Twig!"
"Where are you guys?" she mutters, feeling annoyed.
A faint shuffle catches her attention, and her eyes snap toward the pile of rocks, more specifically behind it. She cautiously approaches and peeks over the edge. There, she sees a furry white figure hunched down on all fours. An animal with hooves, antlers, and spots on its rear.
"Twig?"
He shoots up in surprise and turns his tiny snout up to her, revealing himself to be a Deerfox pup.
He eagerly trots to her, circling her red boots and brushing his fluffy tail against them before sitting down. A loyal companion. She sighs in relief at the sight of him.
"Thank goodness you're still here, boy."
She kneels to run her fingers through his fur, and Twig the Deerfox mews, burying into her touch.
Before she can ask about her sister's whereabouts, she notices his puffed cheeks.
"Twig, what's that you've got there?" she tries to ask. Twig points his snout away in response.
"Stop hiding it. Now let's see…" She frowns as he pulls his snout back, gently prompting his mouth open, unfazed by her gross action.
Getting a quick peek at the contents, her eyes widen. She lets go and stands up, patting her hands on her blue skirt.
"Mum's packed baloney sandwich? That's strange." She taps her chin, thinking. "But who could've given you—" She gasps in realization, piecing the evidence together.
She lets out a tired groan, dragging a palm over her face. "She ran off, didn't she?" she concludes, shooting him a stink eye.
Twig's ears droop as he nods.
"And she bribed you off with baloney. So you would let her leave?"
Twig nods again, guiltily gulping down the last of the baloney.
"It's okay, boy." She picks him up and ruffles his head.
"Mum wanted us to take her outside instead of letting her stay cooped up all day." The absence of her sister dampens her chirpy mood. "We've got her out this far. I'm not giving up now."
Glancing around, she spots something on the ground. To the average eye, it's just dirt littered with dry leaves and roots. But to an experienced adventurer like her, it reveals a trail of footprints leading out of the clearing and into the woods.
"Oh, dear sister. A prey shouldn't leave breadcrumbs for the hunter to follow." She smirks. "Plus, she totally went the opposite way of home."
Laughing, she places Twig down, letting him sniff around the tracks. Baloney, he smells. He looks up at her and yips.
"Quick, she couldn't have gone far." Hilda hastily pursues the tracks back into the forest, allowing Twig to gallop ahead and take the lead.
Rocky Staircase
Somewhere across the forest, opposite the girl and her steed, a bush rattles as two arms part it. White shoes and dark leggings step through, belonging to a girl who looks to be the same age and build as the other one.
She dusts off the leaves and twigs that cling to her grey sweater.
"Stupid shrubs,"
She casts a nasty glare at the wall of bushes lining the ridge's edge. Combing her long brown hair with her fingers, she adjusts the red scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. She approaches the edge, peering tentatively over.
It's a narrow drop to the valley floor below. As the realization hits that it's not just a ridge but a cliff, she squeaks, "Eep!" Vision narrowing, she stumbles back, crawling away from the edge.
"I don't know how she puts up with this," she mutters, shivering as she catches her breath. Her eyes dart around, lost in her surroundings.
High mountains tower over the forest labyrinth below, with a torrenting river cutting through the landscape. Frost clouds roll between the peaks, a biting reminder of the cliff's height. As she scans the valley, she sees no signs of home. Turning around, she is met with the ominous shadow of the forest.
A forest at peace holds no interest for those who aren't seeking its secrets.
"I need to get my bearings…" she mutters to herself, yearning for the comforts of her bed. She grabs her satchel and pulls out her makeshift map. As she peruses it, a pit forms in her stomach at a horrifying realization.
"I've gone the complete opposite way," she groans, slapping her head at the mistake. "How am I going to get home now?" A hint of regret tinges her tone.
"Woohooo!…" "Awooo!"
Her back flies against a tree when she hears a familiar holler and howl echo in the distance, followed by birds fluttering away.
They're coming for me!
Living in the darkness of her room for so long gives her a kind of pseudo-night vision. From far away, she can discern the silhouette of a person and a small animal making their way through the wall of shrubs. They won't take long to reach her.
In a moment of frenzy, she spots a lone tree and immediately climbs its trunk. She presses herself against the branches, making herself as small as possible—just in time as the bush parts and reveals…
Moments ago…
They sprint through the forest, large smiles on their faces at the thrill of the hunt. Darting over logs and following the trail of crushed leaves deeper into the woods, they approach a fork in the trail. Conveniently, both paths merge in the same direction.
The path on the left leads down a mundane trek, a safe and perfectly straightforward route. The second one, meanwhile, leads to rocky terrain, littered with large boulders that tower over the trees.
Seeing both options, she doesn't hesitate to choose the latter. After all, you know what they say— all roads lead to Rome.
"Come on!" she beckons Twig as they hop onto the rocks. Her red boots grip the stones lightly, flinging side-to-side. She nimbly maneuvers around, up and down, performing crude jumps across the boulders. She climbs higher and higher until she's above most of the trees.
"Yeah!" she laughs.
After a running start, she leaps off the tallest rock, soaring through the air. Her beret miraculously stays perched on her head, and her face beams with silent glee. She hears a howl and turns to see Twig jumping after her; she catches him mid-air.
"Woohoo!"
She hollers, and Twig howls by her side. Their voices echo as birds take flight. They land in a pile of red-orange leaves, breaking their fall. Both heads pop out of the leaves, and they share a laugh.
"That was awesome!" Twig yips in agreement. They swim out of the pile and dust themselves off.
"This place is a wonderful jumping spot; we should add it to the map!"
Excitedly, she takes out her journal sketchbook. Flipping through the pages, she reveals a complete map of the valley, charmingly drawn with crayons. She adds the rocky area between the icons of a mountain and the meadows.
"Rock Staircase, there!" she titles the location, smiling proudly at this new addition to her ever-expanding map.
Twig yips, and she packs up her sketchbook. She runs back along the trail, resuming their search after this quick, exciting detour.
The trail leads them up to the top of a cliff, not a ridge as one might mistake it. The edge is obscured by a wall of bushes, which they easily weave through.
"Oh! Beautiful," she gasps at the view of the valley. The imposing mountains are capped with snow, serving as a backdrop to the forest of pines below, transitioning to a grassy meadow where animals frolic. Clouds roll in between, bringing a cool breeze to anyone who admires the beauty.
A soft whine pulls her back to reality. "What is it, boy?"
Twig points his snout, and her eyes follow the trail of footsteps ending at a nearby lone tree. She kneels to inspect, noting the freshness of the tracks. "The trail ends here, but where is she?" she asks aloud to no one in particular.
She scratches her head while Twig sniffs around the perimeter, trying to catch a scent.
Sitting down by the tree, she contemplates. "There's no way she could've actually gone home by herself; she doesn't know these woods like we do." They share a look as she hugs her knees and rests her head on them. "She could be lost…"
Absentmindedly, she traces a finger in the dirt, drawing a crude stick figure of herself, Twig, and her sister together. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices a grey figure concealed among the autumn leaves from the tree above.
Gears turn in her mind, and she gasps. Instantly, she shoots up and sneakily presses her body against the trunk to hide her frame. From her spot, she squints.
A person wearing a red scarf and a grey sweater clings to a branch, burying their face in it and stifling their breathing to avoid detection. A failure on their part.
She gasps again as she finally spots her sister. Part of her wants to rush over and give her a piece of her mind for ditching her, but a smirk creeps onto her face as a more mischievous idea comes to mind.
"Hmm!" she hums aloud, watching her sister tense up.
"Welp, I guess she's not here, Twig!" she yells, catching Twig's attention and making her sister visibly flinch. The blue-haired girl stifles a laugh as she continues, slowly backing away into the nearby bushes.
"Looks like she went home, boy. Maybe it's time we go back and check!" she says purposefully, waving over the confused Twig. "Shh, follow me." She beckons him, and they both soon hide underneath the wall of shrubs.
From there, she lies patiently, waiting for her scheme to unfold. And she doesn't have to wait long.
…
Branches creak as she sees her sister climb down, crushing the dry leaves. She swivels around, eyes warily scanning the area. "Are they gone?"
Letting the question hang in the air, she relaxes her stance and sighs in relief. "Okay, this might be my only opportunity to get back home," she says, oblivious to the fact that she is being watched.
"I better catch up, quick. Lest I want to be left behind." She begins to jog back into the woods, navigating through the wall of shrubs. Suddenly, the leaves shake, and a face emerges.
"Boo!" Her sister and her pet deerfox pop up out of nowhere.
"Gah!" The brunette yelps, jumping back and unceremoniously falling on top of the shrubs. "Oof!" she lets out before groaning. She hears giggling and cranes her head up, watching it transform into a full-blown laughing fit.
"Bwahahaha! Oh, that was hilarious!"
"Is it?" she growls, finding herself with her back caved in atop a bush. She struggles to lunge herself upright like a turtle turned upside down.
"Ho-oh oh! You should've seen the look on your face! You were all like, 'This might be my only opportunity to get back home!'" Her sister wipes a tear from her eyes, hurling into another fit of laughter, with Twig joining in.
She rolls her eyes, unamused. "Fine. Fine, you got me. Happy now?"
"Very," her sister replies, laughter reducing to snickers. She offers a hand, and with a mighty pull, she is free.
The blue-haired girl we already know is Hilda. The one who gets scared out of their mind is her sister Zelda.
Similarities in name alone, along with sharing the same height, frame, and face as they stood side by side. 'Twas evident the two are twins, albeit with different hair colours.
Zelda sighs in relief. "Thanks." She dusts off her sweater and sends Hilda an annoyed look. "How did you even find me?"
Hilda snorts, grinning. "Well… for one, you left a trail for Twig and me to follow."
Zelda can't help but facepalm, and Hilda's amusement grows. "I knew I was forgetting something."
She redirects her attention to Twig. "And I thought you were supposed to be on my side? Was the baloney not good enough for you?" She points at him, and he looks away, feigning ignorance.
"Secondly when the trail seemingly ran cold. We were genuinely about to give up-,"
"Which you didn't,"
"-If not for your grey hoodie, which doesn't help at all in blending with the leaves, eh?" Hilda raises an eyebrow.
Zelda shakes her head and grumbles under her breath as her sister continues, "I say your escape was amateur at best. But what else would I expect from you, little sis?"
This earns Hilda a lighthearted jab on the shoulder, which gets her a glare.
"Don't call me that. You're only five minutes older than me," Zelda retorts, and Hilda waves her hands and backs off.
A breeze sweeps between them as Zelda strides past her sister, heading deeper into the forest. Her white shoes are now sullied with mud and leaves. She sighs in defeat, futilely scraping them against a tree bark. "I can't believe Mum forced me to go out here. Away from my books, my bed, and my warm fireplace," she pouts.
"Come on, Zel. You've been cooped up inside the house for days! It's not healthy," Hilda says, walking alongside her with Twig in tow.
"I know! But do we really have to do this at the start of fall? It's frickin' chilly out here, brrr." She shivers dramatically.
"Being outside isn't all bad. You get to explore the woods, run through fields, climb trees, collect funny-shaped rocks, and discover new places!" Hilda gestures to the landscape, her enthusiasm infectious. "Plus, you, me, and Twig can have lots of adventures out here! Experience fun!" she beams.
"We can experience equal fun indoors. Playing dragon panic by the warm, cosy fire, for example!"
"True, but Mum basically told me to get you out of the house once in a while. Can't disobey our dear mommy now, can we?"
"Yeah, you're the model child," Zelda drawls. "Let's see that hold up once she hears about one of your many dangerous adventures."
"Good thing we made a pact to never tell Mum any of my traumatizing and near-death experiences," Hilda grins. "You'll change your mind about the outdoors once I show you the meadows, Zel."
"Hil, I've been to the meadows before. It's where we held Mum's surprise birthday, remember? Just hills covered with daisies, poppies, and bellflowers." Zelda reminisces childhood memories. "It used to be fun running around, but now it's boring."
"Ha! On the contrary, my dear sister!" Hilda dramatically announces, showing off a leather book decorated with flower motifs. "You see, I recently found something interesting about said meadow," she hypes up in a showman's voice.
Zelda gives her an unamused stare while Twig tilts his head, intrigued.
"So quit moaning and get moving before we miss it." Hilda takes Zelda's arm and begins leading her through the forest.
"Miss what?!" Zelda's cries fall on deaf ears as she struggles to keep up with her more athletic sibling.
"Trust me, it's worth it. You'll find out soon enough." Hilda grins, her excitement palpable.
"Ugh, you know I hate running."
Flappy Scourge
Secluded in the valley among the autumn woods, a pristine sea of grass ripples like emerald waves beneath the sun. Unbroken hills cascade endlessly, untouched by the forest's cold embrace.
As the cloudy sun reaches its zenith, something extraordinary happens. The sea of grass comes alive, responding to some ancient rhythm of the earth. Before their eyes, the landscape transforms into a breathtaking spectacle of colour and light.
"Never gets old…"
A field of flowers bursts forth from the earth, a riot of hues stretching as far as the eye can see. It's as though a rainbow is woven into the very fabric of the land, even in autumn.
This is the Meadows, where flowers bloom at noon and fade in the evening.
Memories flood back of the two children chasing each other through the vibrant blooms. Laughter fills the air as Twig runs circles around the sisters while Mum watches from the sidelines, a small smile on her face.
The nostalgia hits hard, especially for one of the twins. "Those were the days…"
The wind dives into the flowers, creating waves of dancing petals bending in the breeze, carrying pollen to cultivate even more blooms.
"Achoo!" Zelda sniffles. "So what am I looking at exactly? It's still just a plain field of flowers, nothing new here."
"Ever the buzzkill, Zels," Hilda sighs, and her sister rolls her eyes.
"You'll think otherwise after seeing it. We've come at the right time! Just you wait," Hilda exclaims as she spreads a picnic blanket on a hilltop in the middle of the Meadow.
"Ugh! I should've stayed home, tucked into bed, surrounded by my plushies and fluffy pillows!" Zelda groans, flopping down onto the warm checkered blanket and hugging Twig like he's her plushie. A soft and adorable plushie, and a good boy.
"Oh, lighten up!" Hilda grins, nudging Zelda playfully, still in high spirits. "To pass the time, let's dig into the lunch Mum packed for us."
"Great, I'm starving!" Zelda exclaims, scrambling upright.
"Cucumber sandwich, my favourite," Hilda announces, pulling out two plastic bags. "Here's yours, Zel." She tosses one at her. "A bologna sandwich."
"Nice, thank you," Zelda says, catching it before tearing a piece and giving it to Twig. "Here, boy. Thanks again for helping me escape, albeit short-lived."
"I can't believe you got bribed off like that," Hilda chuckles, sitting by Zelda's side. "You're supposed to be my loyal partner," she cries, feigning betrayal.
Mid-chew, Zelda nods. "What can I say? Baloney is a great negotiation tool."
"Pfft! What a load of baloney."
"Bwahahaha!" The two share a hearty laugh as they continue their picnic, topping off their sandwiches with a pile of freshly plucked berries. As Hilda rummages through the basket for refreshments, she hears something crunch at the bottom.
"Oh my gosh, I can't believe it," she gasps, catching her sister's attention.
"We've been blessed with a two-course meal!" she excitedly announces, pulling out a bag of junk food.
"Crisps!" The sisters celebrate, and Twig howls in agreement. Chips for those Americans.
"Awesome! Mum normally doesn't allow us to eat junk food. It's always biscuits and crumpets and whatnots," Hilda says, grabbing a handful and tossing it in her mouth.
Zelda shrugs. "I eat these all the time while you're away."
"I pity you," Hilda shakes her head. "It's a miracle you haven't gotten fat."
Instead of taking offence, Zelda beams in response. "I've got some baby fat here and there, but I accept it. It makes me look adorable," she says, tilting her head cutely.
"Oh yeah?" Hilda sits up. "Ever consider getting one of these?" She pulls up her red sleeves, proudly showing off the start of her toned biceps.
"Meh, muscles are overrated," Zelda replies, diving back into the basket.
"Pft, you're just envious," Hilda says, her eyes widening as Zelda unearths yet more junk food from the depths of the basket. It's a testament to their mum's skill in packing efficiently, and the fact that she hadn't noticed while carrying it is rather amusing.
"There are so many… Speaking of which, how come I never get any snacks in my lunch boxes?" she complains.
"For starters, our pantry would've run out far sooner with you going out adventuring every day. And these are only reserved for special occasions," Her twin explains.
"Didn't realize kicking you out of the house was a special occasion," Hilda quips. "Maybe I should make it a regular thing. The rewards will be well worth it—"
Zelda pounces on her with a flurry of slaps and jabs on her side. "I kid—I kid!" Hilda raises her arms in surrender.
A bad move on her part as Zelda resorts to more unforgiving tactics: tickling. Not one to back down, Hilda pushes her off and retaliates. Soon, the two sisters are engaged in a playful wrestling match, filled with yelps, threats, and even curses thrown around. Twig barks excitedly from the sidelines as the clouds drift lazily overhead.
…
Exhausted from their journey and the subsequent feast, added to the roughhousing, Zelda soon succumbs to sleep, unsurprisingly. She settles herself on Hilda's lap, with Twig nestled securely in her arms. Hilda takes to drawing in her journal to pass the time, listening to the pleasant snores of her sister and pet. Absentmindedly, she fiddles with her sister's brown hair, which, unlike hers, is soft and silky.
I hope we have more moments like this…
She adds the finishing touches to her drawing when something catches the corner of her eye. "Huh?" Her journal falls forgotten to the side, its page revealing a portrait sketch of her sleeping sister and Twig.
She feels the air shift in her gut. Squinting her eyes, she sees shadows rapidly approaching from the forest.
"Zel! Zelda!" She jostles her shoulder. "Wake up, wake up!" she practically screams in her face.
"Wah!?" Zelda jolts upright, messy hair framing her face and a trail of drool running down her chin. "What's going on~?" she asks with a yawn, disoriented and a bit annoyed at the abrupt awakening.
"It's starting. Look!"
Snapping out of her stupor, Zelda quickly cleans herself up. "Where?" She swivels her head around the Meadow.
"There," Hilda points and Zelda corrects her gaze, finally seeing it.
A swarm of tiny, colourful bugs flaps their wings.
"Butterflies? A migration?" Zelda asks, puzzled.
Hilda snickers and takes out the leather book with butterfly motifs from earlier. "Not just any old migration."
As if the earth shakes, a gust of wind suddenly threatens to take Zelda's scarf off and Hilda's beret. Zelda holds on to her sister's sleeve while Twig cowers behind their legs, and Hilda stands protectively over the two.
When she looks up, a shadow passes over them.
"The Great Northern Butterfly Migration!" Hilda shouts in mad glee.
Then, as if on cue, giant butterflies spring forth, wingspans resembling that of eagles. Tons of them descend out of the forest and into the meadow.
Their wings display a dazzling array of colours, shimmering in the sun. Each beat of their wings creates a gust that picks up tons of pollen and blades of grass. The sky fills with the harmonious dance of butterflies flitting from flower to flower, their delicate bodies brushing against the petals.
"Woah!" they both exclaim, standing up in awe, enamoured with the light show filtering through the brightly shimmering wings of the giant insects.
"They're huge!" "It's beautiful," they breathe in unison.
Who knows how long they stand in that spot, eyes widened, mouths agape, simply awestruck by the sight of the giant butterflies.
It's only when Zelda hears her sister flipping through the pages of that mysterious book with the butterfly motif that she finally breaks out of her trance.
"I read it in this Encyclopedia on Insects by J.T. Fabre. Apparently, Great Northern Butterflies annually migrate to the Meadow to mate and lay eggs—" Hilda shows off some diagrams of the giant butterfly's anatomy.
"They range in size from this cute little thing," she gestures to a small one roughly a few centimetres landing on Twig's antlers. He laughably tries to nip the insect but fails as it twirls away.
"—to the size of these behemoths!" Hilda points up.
A shadow descends on them as purple light filters out from the colourful, scaled wings of a butterfly that spans over six feet long. Moreover, it has more than one set of tiny wings, which it uses to hover over the Meadow.
"The migration only occurs once every four years; why that remains a mystery. And what's more, it says right here that the migration lasts until the end of the week!" Hilda squeals and Zelda can't help but chuckle along as they vibrate with excitement at sharing the discovery.
"Meaning we have time to bring Mum for a picnic out here?"
"Definitely, just like the good old days," Hilda says, hopeful. Though her sister is too preoccupied to notice.
"Cool…" she gapes.
"See? Told you it was worth it,"
Zelda doesn't even bother looking her way, knowing her sister wears that smug grin.
"Yeah, you're right; this is well worth it. You don't have to keep rubbing it in," she sighs while grinning. She won't admit it here and now, but for the first time in her teenage life, she's glad she left the comforts of home.
Hilda hands the book to Zelda, who eagerly immerses herself in its pages. Downhill, Twig frolics among the fluttering insects, his playful jumps turning into sudden alertness. His ears perk up, his body stiffens, and he darts back to the twins, whimpering.
Zelda glances up, puzzled. "How come I've never read this book?" she asks, noting Hilda's sheepish expression.
"Oh, I borrowed it from Woodman when he wasn't looking," Hilda admits with a mischievous smile.
"You mean stole?" Zelda's eyes widen in mock horror.
"He deserved it," Hilda shrugs, and they share a conspiratorial grin.
Twig's persistent whines draw their attention. "What is it, boy?" Zelda asks worriedly, moving to comfort the panicking deerfox.
Hilda, however, quickly stands up and looks around attentively, much to her sister's confusion. The meadow seems unchanged, save for the butterflies now taking flight en masse. Something's wrong.
A gust of wind whips through the air, strong and sudden.
"Woah-oh! Ah!"
Blue and red blur past Zelda and Twig as they watch in dread as her twin falls off the hilltop. "Hils!" Zelda peers over the edge, sighing in relief to see Hilda buried in a patch of flowers, breaking her fall. She retreats to the centre when another gust threatens to push her off.
"I'm okay!" Hilda reassures them, but the gusts keep hailing from an unknown source. Ignoring her lost beret, she easily hoists herself up, though the same can't be said for the two stuck atop the hill. "Are you and Twig okay?"
"We're fine!" Zelda yells back. "Where's this gale coming from?! It's like I'm in a hurricane!" she exclaims, with Twig whining underneath her.
"I don't know!" Hilda's eyes scan the area until she notices the butterflies above, flapping their wings in unison, seemingly unaffected by the wind. "I think it's coming from the butterflies!" she deduces, but there's no time to explain further as another gust surges toward her.
"Can you get down?" Hilda shouts.
Zelda squints against the flying debris, the picnic blanket whipping wildly beside her. She notes their absent stuff, probably sent flying to who knows where by now. She cranes her neck and sees Hilda safe downhill, shielded from the harsh winds.
Better down there than up here.
"I—I think I can try," Zelda says, standing shakily with Twig in one arm and her other shielding her face. She takes a step forward, only to be pushed back by the relentless wind.
Hilda, determined, shouts back, "Hold on, I'm coming!" She ties her yellow scarf tighter and begins to climb back up.
"O-Okay," Zelda replies, her voice trembling.
Then a translucent shadow looms over them. Hilda's eyes widen in horror. "Zelda, look out!"
The Great Northern butterflies descend from the sky, their wings casting eerie shadows and sending powerful gusts in every direction. The calm shatters and the storm is upon them. A butterfly storm.
Pastel World
Zelda shuts her eyes and shields Twig with her body, bracing for the familiar terror of darkness. Instead, a disorienting burst of rainbow colours assaults her senses. The wing of the giant butterfly above feels suffocating, like being trapped under a monstrous, smothering blanket. Her breath is squeezed from her lungs, her heart pounding in panic, a feeling too close to a certain incident she wishes she could forget.
Just breathe, Zelda… She chants to herself, clinging to Twig when the weight finally releases its hold on them. She gasps, air rushing into her lungs as she sits up, trembling and disoriented.
She and Twig sneeze at the same time, releasing a cloud of shimmering dust.
Zelda rubs her fingers together, the iridescent particles clinging to her skin. "Butterfly scales?" she murmurs, her voice tinged with disbelief and frustration as she looks at the vibrant dust now coating her clothes. "Perfect, just perfect," she mutters bitterly, brushing off the scales with shaky hands. Twig, usually pristine, is covered in the multicoloured dust, looking as bewildered as she feels.
With the hurricane reduced to a soft whistling blow, Zelda finally feels safe enough to let Twig go as she stands. From her vantage point, she sees the meadows blanketed in shimmering colourful scales, creating a cloudy haze that reaches the height of three-story buildings.
"Hilda?" she calls out, her voice barely a whisper in the heavy air.
No reply. Panic grips her as she considers leaving the hilltop to search for her sister, but the thought of diving into the dense, shifting haze and confronting the unknown terrors within makes her knees buckle.
The sight would have been enchanting if not for the ominous silhouette of giant butterflies swirling in that sea of haze. But dread washed over her as she realized her sister was lost amidst its depths.
Twig sniffs the ground before barking, getting her attention, and pointing his snout in a specific direction. He has Hilda's scent. Zelda sighs in relief, though she wonders why he hasn't run off yet. It's because of me.
Gulping, she kneels and runs her fingers through his fur. "Go find her, boy."
Twig whimpers, reluctant to leave her side. "I-It's okay, I'll be fine," she whispers, her voice cracking as she tears herself away from him.
She watches Twig give her a determined look before he takes off into the unknown. Left alone atop the hill, silence engulfs her, leaving nothing but her thoughts for company. It's a dangerous solitude, the weight of recent events pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket.
"What's going on…" she whines, her voice barely audible. Figuring the encyclopedia from earlier might hold all the answers, she clutches it tighter. "I hope they're okay…"
…
"…Who am I kidding?! This is Hilda we're talking about," A shaky laugh escaping her lips.
Hilda's always been the brave one, the adventurer, Mum's favourite. She's faced dangers Zelda can't even imagine. She'll be fine. But what if this time is different? What if those giant butterflies are more dangerous than anything she's faced before? What if the storm picks up again, and I'm stuck here without them? And what if Twig can't find her?
I should have gone with him.
No, focus. I have to trust Twig. I have to trust Hilda. But what if she needs me and I'm not there?
Breathe, Zelda. Just breathe!"
Remembering her mother's words, Zelda gasps for breath. Her gaze lifts to the towering cloud of shimmering scales against the autumn sky. Despite her doubts, a strange peace settles over her amidst the surreal spectacle.
It's kind of peaceful up here, she thinks, a small smile creeping onto her dishevelled face.
As if on cue, the giant butterflies stir into frenzied activity. Zelda shivers, gulping at the sight. She just had to jinx it.
Their colossal wings unleash torrents of wind, tearing through the air with a menacing roar. Caught in the whirlwind they create, Zelda struggles to maintain her footing. If they weren't terrifying before, they certainly are now. It feels like being trapped in the eye of a tornado, surrounded by a swirling vortex of shimmering scales that blinds her vision.
I-I can't stay here!
With a surge of desperation, Zelda bolts forward, only to collide headlong into the horrifying visage of a giant butterfly. Its gaping maw and razor-sharp antennae loom menacingly before her. "Gyah!" Her screams echo in the chaos as she blindly flees in the opposite direction, her sense of direction utterly lost amidst the tumult.
Bumping into something solid, she stumbles and falls, scrambling to escape without even glancing backwards.
"Zelda!" her sister's voice calls out, but it's drowned in the cacophony as Zelda sprints aimlessly, dodging butterflies and battling against the relentless gusts.
Exhausted and disoriented, she collapses, curling into herself to shield away from the overwhelming onslaught.
"… Zelda…"
Zelda doesn't register Hilda's faint calls amidst the vortex, lost in the echoes of an all-too-familiar feeling—harsh winds, bitter cold, exhaustion, dehydration. This is why I never go out...
"Zelda! Thank goodness you're okay!" Hilda's voice breaks through the turmoil. Her appearance mirrors Zelda's, both covered in dirt and colourful butterfly scales. If Mum saw this, she'd have a fit.
Hilda rushes over, enveloping her in a tight hug, not wanting to let go after meandering through the thick haze to find her. "Zel… What's wrong?" she asks, shaking her gently, but Zelda only whimpers in response.
"Please, tell me what's wrong!" Hilda's voice grows more frantic as her attempts to rouse her fail, while Twig whines worriedly nearby.
Zelda murmurs something incomprehensible under her breath, her eyes stubbornly shut.
"What?!" Hilda shouts over the howling wind. "Zelda, what's wrong? Tell me!" She gently cups her twin's cheek, and when their eyes meet, she offers a reassuring smile.
Zelda's mouth opens as she finally finds her voice.
"I-I need t-to go back home! I-I'm never going outdoors ever again…" Her declaration is shaky, her resolve crumbling under the weight of something Hilda can't quite grasp.
Never again...
Hilda's heart sinks. "W-What? Why?" she asks, shaking her sister's shoulder, desperate for an explanation. Surely one bad experience in the Meadow doesn't warrant a lifetime of fear. Hilda has faced her share of horrors, yet here she is.
She forgets she's not her...
"I said I need to go—back—home!" Zelda shoves her sister away in the spur of the moment, sending her to the ground. They both gasp at the sudden harshness. Seeing the hurt in her twin's eyes sends a pang through her heart. She opens her mouth, trembling, but the words refuse to come.
Instead, she turns away and sprints into the storm, Hilda's cries fading behind her, the tears streaming down her own cheeks unnoticed.
"Zelda!..."
Hilda's arms reach out in vain as she watches her sister's figure disappear into the rain of scales. Clenching her fists, she stands resolute, ready to catch up and make sure her sister is okay. But she pauses when she hears a yelp amidst the turbulence.
Looking to her side, Hilda's heart lurches with panic as she realizes Twig is gone. In a frantic search, she spots a group of large butterflies lifting the deerfox a few feet off the ground, vanishing into the swirling cloud of shimmering scales.
"Twig!" A surge of adrenaline propels her into a run. "Hold on, boy, I'm coming!" She races past their ruined picnic. The encyclopedia lies crumpled among the flowers, the basket turned over with food spilled onto the grass, butterflies swarming over the remnants of their once serene moment.
Twig fought back, biting their sticky legs and poking their wings with his antlers. Whenever he takes one down for the count, many more come to replace it, like fighting the Hydra.
Twig fights back, biting at their sticky legs and poking their wings with his antlers. Each time he takes one down, more swarm in, like a baseball player facing an endless lineup of opponents.
"Get away from him!" Hilda swings a nearby branch she grabs, each strike sending the insects flying away with a resounding thud. Twig wiggles out of their grasp and into her arms.
"We did it, boy!" She grins as Twig licks her cheek in gratitude.
However, their moment of triumph is short-lived as an even larger swarm of butterflies swoops down, seizing them both in its powerful grip. Despite their screams and struggles, they are helpless against its strength.
"Aaah!" Her scream echoes in the tumultuous air as they are carried away, the world spinning around them in a dizzying blur.
She didn't know how she got out, but she did.
Zelda stumbles from the haze of the Meadow and into the safety of the autumn forest. Gasping for breath, she collapses against the sturdy trunk of a tree, finding solace from the relentless gale.
As the storm subsides, memories of that fateful day flood her mind. The roaring thunder, the blinding flashes of lightning, the unrelenting torrent of rain—all rush back with overwhelming force.
She could feel the fear gripping her heart as she recalled quivering under the roots of an ancient tree, the water rising around her, drowning out her cries for help.
And then, Mum's voice called out her name in the distance, a beacon of hope in the darkness. But her throat had been too sore, too hoarse to even shout back, as the water seeped in, threatening to swallow her whole. And then, a beam of light shone her way, rescuing her from the depths of despair.
Tears well in Zelda's eyes as she relives the haunting memory. An ugly sob tears through her throat, and she curls up on the dirt, her body wracked with the weight of her emotions.
Terrified by the memory, Zelda feels anger at herself for still being afraid after all this time, overwhelmed with shame for abandoning her sister and Twig back in the Meadow. These emotions consume her, tearing her apart from the inside out.
And then, amidst her despair, she hears it—
"... Help!"
The distant screams of her sister and Twig echo through the forest, jolting her back to reality with gut-wrenching force. "Hilda!" A gasp escapes her lips as she tears herself away from her hiding spot, coming face to face once more with the Meadow. Her legs turn to jelly at the sight.
"Come on, you coward! MOVE! Your sister and baby boy are in danger!" Her voice becomes a fierce battle cry. Without a second thought, she charges into the swirling haze, determination fueling her every step. But the wind is relentless, pushing her back with each attempt, sending her stumbling and crashing to the ground.
Blood trickles down her face from a cut, but she pushes the pain aside, her focus solely on reaching Hilda. With each attempt, a fierce gust sends her tumbling backwards. Her red scarf is missing, her white shoes are caked in mud, and her grey sweater is riddled with dirt.
And again.
She narrowly avoids colliding with a tree.
And again.
Maybe this time, with a running start.
And again.
You know a rock to the head would be fatal.
Panting hard, tears of frustration mingle with her sweat as her sister's screams fuel her panic. That's when her mother's words flood back to her—Breathe… Just breathe. A wave of calm washes over her, clearing her mind. As she observes the swirling air, she spots it—the pollen, effortlessly flowing through the haze.
"I'm coming, Hils…"
Armed with newfound knowledge, Zelda follows the swirling pollen through the thick cloud of scales, working with the current instead of against it. She doesn't know what possesses her—maybe her family's latent adventurous spirit is finally emerging. With the wind at her back, she dodges butterflies with surprising agility.
After clearing a particularly thick wall of the cloud, she finally sees it—the behemoth of a butterfly. From the ground, it looks like a mere speck, but up close, it's nearly the size of a small car, with two sets of iridescent wings creating gusts that could knock a person off their feet.
The creature's wings shimmer with eerie colours, distorting the air around them in a dizzying, kaleidoscopic effect.
She spots Hilda and Twig ensnared by the creature's long, spindly arms. A sigh of relief escapes her lips upon seeing her sister, but terror quickly replaces it as she realizes the dire situation—Hilda and Twig are being lifted off the ground, dangling precariously in the behemoth's grip, each beat of its wings sending powerful gusts of wind that add to the chaos.
"Hilda!" Zelda yells.
"Zels?!" Her sister's eyes widen in surprise, taking in Zelda, breathless and desperate to catch up.
"I've come to save you!"
"Don't come any closer, it's too—Gah! D-Dangerous!" Hilda nearly slips to her death, clinging to Twig. No longer struggling, she grips their abductor's legs for dear life, her face pale with fear.
"NO! I won't leave you any more!" Zelda shouts, determination fueling her every step despite the perilous situation. She runs as fast as she can to catch up. She notices the creature isn't flying straight up; instead, it weaves through the thick cloud haze, almost as if it can't ascend directly.
But why?!
Before she can ponder further or formulate a plan, a familiar book catches her eye, lying amidst the debris of their ruined picnic.
"Hold on!" she yells, veering left for a detour.
"Zelda, look out!" Hilda's voice echoes through the chaos.
Adrenaline surges through Zelda as she dodges a swipe from an incoming butterfly, barely managing to land on her feet. There, on the ground, is the Encyclopedia of Insects by J.T. Fabre.
"Got it!" she exclaims, grabbing the book with renewed hope.
With it in hand, she resumes her breathless sprint, flipping through its pages for something useful. "Come on, come on, there's got to be something!" she growls, her mind racing.
Her legs burn from the effort, and her breaths come in ragged gasps. She isn't built for this kind of exertion, but she has no choice. Eyes darting over the text, she absorbs every bit of information about the Great Northern Butterfly.
"Juvenile and adult Great Northern Butterflies, due to their size, require large amounts of nutrients that flowers alone cannot provide. Consequently, they resort to lifting prey and dropping them from heights, feeding on the mangled remains."
"What? We're going to be dropped to our deaths?!" Hilda shouts, panic evident in her voice.
"Just hang on!" Zelda snaps, flipping through the pages furiously.
Hilda glares back, frustration mingling with fear. "You better hurry!"
Zelda ignores her, her eyes scanning every line, every footnote, balancing the book awkwardly as she runs. Maintaining her pace while reading is a struggle, but she pushes through the pain and fatigue.
Pages flip and flip until…
"There!" She laughs. "Though this behaviour is rare due to the high energy cost, Great Northern Butterflies are opportunistic scavengers. They will abandon prey for easier food sources, such as human provisions- one of the bloody even beasts snatched a sandwich off my hand!"
Zelda gasps, rummaging through her pockets and triumphantly pulling out a squished bologna sandwich. "Baloney, yes! I knew there came a day it would save us."
Hilda snorts at Zelda's delight, even while hovering over death-defying heights. She watches as her sister frees the snack from its plastic confines, lifting it high into the air.
The results are immediate. The giant butterflies begin swarming toward her, the wind picking up with their collective wingbeats. But before a storm can start once more, Zelda leans back and chucks the bologna sandwich with all her might at the behemoth. "Here goes nothing," she murmurs.
The creature's many compound eyes track the sandwich as it arcs through the air, the enticing aroma of savoury bologna, sharp mustard, and fresh bread wafting through the wind. The behemoth dives eagerly, determined to get there first before any competition arrives. In its haste, it deposits Hilda and Twig into a nearby patch of flowers as it feasts.
"Oof!"
Groaning at the rough landing, Hilda finds an outstretched hand in her face. "Come on! Hurry!" Zelda urges.
As she helps her sister up, still shaken, the twins share a weak smile. With the giant butterflies going into a frenzy, they quickly run off before the wind picks up, Twig eagerly trailing behind.
Zelda leads the way, using the pollen as a guide.
They swiftly navigate the maze of scales and butterflies, making it out of the meadow in no time. Reaching the treeline and safety, they collapse onto the ground, panting and catching their breath.
Hilda looks up at the now-setting sky, a smile spreading across her face. She feels grateful for her sister and Twig, thankful to be alive. Meanwhile, Zelda lies with an arm over her face, her dark brown hair splayed out haphazardly, hiding the tears that trail down her cheeks.
They were safe.
Sweet Home
The twins trudged home, their steps heavy and slow. They left their belongings behind, not bothering to retrieve them or clean themselves up. The sun was setting, and they knew there were far more dangerous creatures lurking in the night.
As they neared home, the warm light spilling from the windows and the delicious scent of dinner wafting through the air spurred them on. They quickened their pace, driven by the promise of safety and comfort.
Hilda opened the door and softly called out, "We're back." Zelda followed silently, with the exhausted Twig trailing behind them.
"Welcome back, you two! Just in time for dinner. I hope you had some fun—what happened?!" Johanna's cheerful tone turned to alarm as she saw the state of her daughters.
She grabs them by the shoulders, looking them over from head to toe. Their clothes are caked in dirt and sweat, their hair frazzled, and their bodies littered with colourful scales. More concerning are the cuts and scratches covering their arms and legs, especially the big gash on Zelda's cheek.
Johanna ushers them into the living room, where the fireplace crackles warmly, casting a comforting glow across the room.
"I'll be right back," she says, her voice filled with concern, as she heads to fetch the first aid kit. Twig, equally dirty and tired, curls up in one of the chairs, his small body finally relaxing in the inviting warmth of home. The twins sink into the couch, the exhaustion of their ordeal catching up to them as the fire's gentle heat begins to soothe their aching muscles.
"Ow, that stings," Zelda hisses, flinching as Johanna rubs disinfectant on her wound. She glances over at Hilda, who is nonchalantly pulling out her own set of bandages and disinfectant.
"Hmm…" Johanna hums with a grim look.
"What? What is it?" Zelda asks, anxiety creeping into her voice.
"There are some splinters left over," Johanna sighs, brandishing a pair of tweezers. "I'm afraid we need to pull them out."
Zelda gulps, her heart pounding as she whimpers and silently holds her twin's hand. She closes her eyes, bracing herself as the tweezers approach her skin.
As the worst of it passes, she flinches when her mother grasps her raw cheek. "Hold still," Johanna coos, her voice a mix of reprimand and tenderness. She carefully covers the clean wound with gauze. "There. All fixed up." A kiss on Zelda's forehead is followed by a quick hug—a small gesture that Zelda wishes would last a bit longer.
Johanna turns her attention to her other daughter. "Now your turn, Hilda—"
"Finished," Hilda interrupts, showing off her neatly bandaged cuts. "Did it myself."
"Oh. Guess that's job done then," Johanna says with a hint of surprise, but mostly acceptance. She packs away the first aid kit, missing the fleeting, hopeful glance Hilda gives her. Hilda shifts slightly as Johanna leaves the room, leaving the two alone for a moment.
"You good?" Hilda asks, staring at the patch on Zelda's cheek. Their eyes meet briefly before both quickly look away.
"Mm, fine," Zelda replies glumly, covering her cheek with her hand.
An awkward silence hangs between them until Johanna returns, arms crossed and wearing a disappointed expression. "Now, care to tell me what happened?" she asks, tapping her foot impatiently.
The twins exchange a nervous glance. Zelda subtly nudges Hilda, who rubs her shoulder and offers a sheepish smile. "It's a long story..." Hilda begins, but her voice trails off under their mother's stern gaze.
One long explanation later, they didn't have to say much. Once Hilda mentioned the Meadows and the giant butterflies, Johanna got the gist.
"Of course, how could I forget it's their migration season," Johanna mutters, facepalming. "I should've warned you two to stay away from the Meadows at this time of year." She berates herself softly.
"You knew?!" the twins shout in unison.
"Of course I knew!" Johanna snaps, rubbing her temple. "I also knew how dangerous it gets when they all start flapping their wings at the same bloody time."
After a frustrated sigh, the conversation falls into a tense silence. Hilda places the encyclopedia of insects on the table, her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry," she says, crestfallen. "I should've told you where we were going. I wanted it to be a surprise."
Johanna sighs and envelops the two in a hug, which they eagerly return. "It's okay," she murmurs. Pulling back, she sits beside her girls and Twig on the couch. "All that matters is you two are safe," she says with a motherly smile.
"Thanks, Mum," they both mumble.
"Maybe we'll come back when you two are older and not liable to be picked up like cows in a tornado," Johanna adds lightheartedly.
"I look forward to it," Hilda beams.
"Y-Yeah..." Zelda agrees, albeit less enthusiastically.
…
"Say, how was your first encounter with those winged beasts, anyway?" Hilda asks.
Johanna chuckles at the memory. "What can I say? It was much tamer than what you went through, I can tell you that much." She settles in, ready to share her story. "I was much younger than you two when I first discovered the secret beauty of the Meadow. I was with your Aunt Astrid and…" She pauses, her brows furrowing as she tries to recall the details.
"And?" the twins prompt, urging her to continue.
Johanna shakes her head, smiling. "… And we had lots of fun, I assure you." She ends there, her eyes flickering with confusion.
"How much fun?" Hilda presses, sensing something is off.
"My memory is a bit hazy on the topic. It was ages ago," Johanna admits, rising to her feet. "We can talk more about it at dinner. Why don't you two go wash up before we eat?"
"Okay," the twins agree, heading upstairs to their room. Johanna watches them go, noting how Zelda is silently trailing behind her sister. "Careful with the bandages," she calls out.
"We will!" Hilda replies, punctuating her words with the slam of a door.
"What did I say about slamming doors?" Johanna mutters to herself, shaking her head. Once alone, her smile fades as she surveys the living room. Muddy footprints mar the carpet, dusty outlines stain the couch covers, and wet wipes clutter the coffee table.
"I just cleaned here," she grouses. Then her gaze falls on Twig, their Deerfox, soundly sitting on the couch, his once-pristine white fur now caked with dirt. "Come on, Twig, let's get you hosed down," she sighs, picking him up. Twig whines at the thought of a cold wash, but Johanna carries him outside anyway.
As they step into the chill of the night, she mutters, "At least you can't slam doors."
…
Upstairs in the twins' shared bedroom, Zelda browses her clothes to change into after a bath while Hilda waits by the bedside. The room feels stiflingly quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the ceiling fan above. Hilda shifts in her seat, observing her sister, noting the tired lines etched into her face.
Zelda's movements are slow and deliberate as she selects her clothes, her hands trembling slightly.
"Hey, Zels, that was quite the adventure, huh?" Hilda awkwardly begins, trying to lighten the mood. "Sorry, it went downhill pretty fast. These things tend to happen quite a bit." She chuckles nervously, hoping to at least coax a smile.
Zelda pauses, her back still turned. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Yeah, I guess so," she replies softly, her tone devoid of its usual energy.
Hilda winces at the lacklustre response, a knot forming in her stomach. She desperately wants to bridge the gap between them, to erase the tension that hangs heavy in the air.
Their shared memories linger in the room, a bittersweet reminder of happier times. Hilda feels a lump rise in her throat as she thinks about how much things have changed since then.
"Hils," Zelda speaks up suddenly, her voice breaking the silence.
Hilda holds her breath, waiting for her sister to continue.
"Can we... can we keep what happened in the Meadows between us?" Zelda's words hang heavy in the air, laden with unspoken emotion. "I just don't want to cause unnecessary worry for her, that's all," she weakly excuses.
Hilda's heart aches at the vulnerability in her sister's voice. She wants to reach out, to reassure her that everything will be okay, but the words remain trapped in her throat.
"Oh, s-sure,".
And with that, the tension in the room remains palpable, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging between them like a heavy fog.
"I'm sorry…" Zelda's voice quivers as she speaks, her gaze fixed on the floor.
Hilda looks up, taken aback by her sister's sudden apology.
"Sorry for whining throughout the trip. I know you were only trying to help. A-And I'm so sorry for ditching you and Twig," Zelda continues, her tone filled with remorse as she rubs her shoulder nervously.
Hilda's heart softens at her sister's words, realizing the depth of Zelda's regret. "It's okay; it happens to the best of us. Look on the bright side—we made it out alive! Bruised and dirtied, but still. Alive!" Hilda offers a reassuring smile, hoping to ease Zelda's guilt. "-And I only have you and baloney sandwiches to thank!" she adds with a chuckle.
Slowly but surely, Zelda's lips curve into a hesitant smile, the tension in the room dissipating as they share a moment of levity.
"Awkward sibling hug?" Zelda suggests tentatively, extending her arms. It's a gesture they've used for as long as she can remember—a quirky tradition that always brings a bit of lightness to their moments of tension, much to their mum's delight.
"Awkward sibling hug," Hilda agrees with a soft chuckle, stepping forward to envelop her sister in a warm embrace. "Pat, pat." They both say, patting each other's backs.
As they break apart, Hilda watches Zelda head toward the bathroom to clean up. But before she can leave, a thought crosses her mind, and she hurriedly follows.
"H-Hey Zelda… Back at the Meadows, did you mean what you said?" Recalling her panicked declaration.
Slam.
The bathroom door closes with a resounding thud, cutting off Hilda's question. She stands there, uncertain if her sister heard her or chose to ignore her.
Turning away, she retreats into their shared bedroom. An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of her stomach, a silent reminder of the lingering tension between them. Despite their reconciliation, an invisible barrier still separates them—one neither knows how to overcome.
Little does she know, slumped behind the bathroom door, the feeling is mutual.
End Scene
Chapter One – Baloney Butterflies
This story has been in the works, on and off, for a long time—it's definitely overstayed its welcome in my files. But now, it's finally time for it to see the light of day. So go on, touch some grass, my darling fanfic!
If you enjoyed it (or even if you didn't), feel free to review, comment, favourite, bookmark, kudos, like, subscribe—whatever floats your boat! I'll respond to anything. Thanks for sticking around!
Est. Word Count: 9700
Published: 09-2024
Reviews
axelkurian121: "I hope you continue"
- Most definitely will.
DEV: "A fantastic start. It's sort of like a Snow White and Rose Red set up. You don't see that very often. Zelda seems to balance off of Hilda pretty well so good job on your OC. Hope to see more."
- A fantastic Review! Thanks. Looked up Snow White and Rose Red, and I guess I was on the nose with that one. I hope I can maintain the balance of their clashing personalities, but you never know things can totally change.