#its worth all the effort when they learn to soften for eachother

[nokiambv]

first proper interaction vs current development

[soliloqueenie]

Crawling out of my isolation hole to take a risk here theydies and gents

I’ve been writing a lot of things and I decided I want to share!  Kind of afraid of posting fanfic but this is just a drabble about one of my current DnD PCs.  She’s a gnome druid but not yet a druid here.  If you read please feel free to leave me feedback! 

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“Got one!”

Brea’s voices comes from somewhere above, and Bits knows better than to try and find her, so she stops, sits on a root, and waits.  And then maybe 15 seconds later Brea comes crashing through the canopy in a tangle of snapped twigs and swirling greenery and lands almost catlike on her feet. She holds out a canvas drawstring bag, and Bits watches as something inside squirms desperately.

“Hey!” Bits rushes forward and pulls the bag out of Brea’s hands.  “You can’t just shove them in a sack, did you miss the whole endangered and jumpy part?” She reaches in and then immediately pulls her hand out again when the creature inside bites her finger viciously.  

“Ouch!” Bits closes the top of the sack and shoots Brea a withering look.  “Now she’s mad.”  She sucks on the end of her finger, looking around for witch hazel, or maybe goldenseal.

Brea rolls her eyes and takes the still-squirming bag of angry lemur back from her.  “And that’s my fault?”

“It’s not not your fault.”

“Mmm, I’m not the one that shoved my own gloveless hand into a bag containing a clearly frightened animal, though.”

“W-” Bits wheels on her for a moment, and then softens. “Kay.  Fair.”  She puts her hands on her hips and turns around, looking again.  Probably not a good idea to leave a wild animal bite untreated.  It doesn’t take too long for her to find what she’s looking for.  Brea sits next to her and holds her hand, pouring some water over the bite as Bits forces herself through the ordeal of chewing bark to treat the wound.  It’s a nasty, acrid flavor, but it cleans almost as well as alcohol, so it’s worth using if it’s readily available.  When Brea turns and laughs at the face she’s making Bits scrunches her nose at her and bumps their foreheads together.

“I should have made you do this,” she says as she spits her little mouthful of bark onto her finger and starts to press gently.  “Gods, that tastes awful.”

Brea kisses her cheek and starts to rummage in her pouch.  “I wouldn’t get to laugh at your icky-taste face, then, sorry.”

The bite stings at the touch of the herbal paste.  Bits grimaces at the feeling, ignoring Brea for now.  When she wipes the stinging paste off of her finger, the halfling is there immediately, washing it off with water again and then wrapping a thin strip of linen around her finger.  She hands Bits her waterskin when she’s done and Bits does her best to wash the harsh taste of goldenseal out of her mouth.  

“Okay,” Bits sighs and turns her attention back to the writhing back on the ground.  “Now to deal with you.”

Carefully this time, Bits slowly opens the drawstring and lowers in a twig.  Her plan works, and the creature inside promptly bites the twig and then, distracted, lets itself be lifted gently out of the bag by the scruff of its neck.  Save for the way the little thing is scrabbling furiously at the twig still in its mouth, what comes next is routine for the two of them.  Bits twists the lemur back and forth, rattling off a short list of measurements and observations, and Brea scribes diligently. When they’re done, Brea dips her fingers in a little pot of dye and gingerly leaves a dark black line down the creature’s back to mark it as already recorded.

With an affectionate pat on its head, Bits walks a few steps away to release their catch back into the brush.

“How many is that, today?”

The lemur scuttles through the underbrush and up a tree a stone’s throw away.  Bits watches it until it runs behind too many layers of green to keep track of where it’s going.  When it’s gone she turns back to Brea, flexing the hand with the bloodied finger to see how it feels.  “Um…eight? Nine? I don’t remember.”

Brea flips back a few pages in her notebook.  “Eleven!” She sets the notebook aside and scoots down to sit on the ground, leaning back against the large root they had both been sitting on to evaluate their catch. “That’s enough, right?  This morning you said ten.”

She can see where this is going already, but decides after a moment that she’s okay with being convinced, so she sits next to Brea on the ground.  “It’s barely afternoon, though…” she trails off, leaning back to look around at the woods around them.  “We have time.”  Bits pats Brea’s leg for a moment and closes her eyes to listen.  Forest-music is her favorite sound.  These woods are different from home, just like they all are, but there are always the same things to listen for.  The whistle of wind and rustle of swinging vines layered under the gentle murmur of the creek they’d passed a few minutes before.  The twinkle of birdsong and here, the occasional whoop of a monkey’s call.  Different pitches and tempo than home, but…..different variations on the same theme, Bits thinks.  Not so different it isn’t familiar.

She listens until she feels Brea sling her legs over Bits’ lap and bump her nose against her cheek. “Time for…?”  Bits opens her eyes just enough to shoot her a suspicious look.

“For lemurs, Brea. What we’re here for.”

“Or,” Brea slings her arms around Bits’ neck and leans back to shoot her a cheeky grin. “Climbing lessons!”

“What?”

“I distinctly remember someone saying she wished she could get around up there like I do.”  Bits tries not to smile when Brea pulls her to her feet. “I mean you’ll never be as fast as me but you can barely scale a tree at all as is so.”  She pecks her cheek. “Things can really only get better from here.”

“I resent that.  I can so climb a tree.”

The ranger eyes the wide, ancient trunk of the tree nearest them and pulls Bits closer.  “Sure, sorry.” She kisses the tip of her nose. “Cutie.” And then before Bits has time to react Brea is gone, 7 feet up the tree in no time.  “See ya at the top!”

“Hey!”  Bits rushes after her.  They’re both kind of right, as it turns out.  She’s a decent climber, but Brea is way ahead of her, and takes her time as she goes to look back and check on the gnome clambering up after her. She stops to drape herself over branches every now and then to tease, and to point out good handholds, and it looks maddeningly easy for her. As she climbs Bits wonders what it would be like to be so graceful, like that.  Brea looks like she could flit tree to tree like a squirrel and look just as natural doing it.  Bits loses track of her for a bit, distracted by the increasingly herculean effort of levering herself up and over branch after branch, and then yelps when Brea seems to snatch her out of thin air.

The Halfling pulls her onto a particularly large branch and holds her waist until Bits can catch her balance and settle herself.  They’re facing eachother, Bits with the trunk of the tree at her back and Brea just a little farther out on the branch sporting a big grin.  “Not so bad!  You’re a good climber.”  Brea’s hands move to her elbows, squeezing a little.  “I’m just fantastic.”  Bits searches her face for any sign of condescension, but she finds only adoration, a realization that makes her blush.  She feels a little dizzy, and she’s really not sure if it’s the height or the….Brea.  Maybe both?

Brea scoots closer and brushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear.  “Can I kiss you?”

Gulp. “Uhh…up here?”

“Yep.”

“Um, was this the plan?”

“…Yep.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Another grin. “Yep.”

Bits looks down at the ground and finds she doesn’t actually mind the height so much.  It’s kind of exhilarating, actually.  She has a weird urge to try leaping across the sky like Brea does, but she’s pretty sure she’s not ready for that, yet.  Maybe with more climbing lessons.

She considers for a moment.

“Yeah, you can kiss me.”

Bits forgets about lemurs for a little while.

---

It’s years before Bits finally knows what climbing must have been like for her.  Years, and a lot of still too-fresh pain, and many too-long months of lonely solo travel and it takes her somehow learning to turn into a squirrel.  She’s with new people, and they’re kind of weird and sometimes confusing, and she’s not sure if she likes them because she actually likes them or because she’s so lonely, but somehow, with Artio’s help she turns into a wolf. And then the next day, a squirrel. And spends an hour following along with her friends (?) from dozens of feet above, leaping and soaring from tree to tree.  It’s so much better than she could have even expected.  Bits feels like a wild thing, like not even the wind could catch her if leaps fast enough.

But even though this new power is fascinating and exciting, and she’s fresh off the victory of helping to really, tangibly save the forest they’re walking through, and even though the last few days have been stressful but honestly pleasant, given the company…when she’s back on the ground?  With her normal, non-soaring gnome feet carrying her the rest of the way?

All she can think about is how much she wants to tell Brea about it.