“Come on slowpoke!” Highflyer laughed, whirling around in the air only barely avoiding collision with the tree branches. “You haven’t forgotten how to fly, have you?"
Tinkerbull at his side, Pupa chased after his friend with a devious grin, twirling his daggerlance around in his hand in a boyish gesture of one-upmanship. Everyone knew the only one who flew better than Highflyer was Peter, but Pupa was nothing if not determined to keep up.
Whooping and laughing they raced through the forest, occasionally stopping their wild chase to throw some unskilled play-attacks at each other or investigate something particularly interesting until they finally settled on one of the thick branches of a particularly high tree, looking out over the Neverwood forest, Tinkerbull curling up on Pupa’s lap.
It was too early to return to home underground, they both decided. The sun wasn’t even beginning to set, so they made themselves comfortable. Sitting with his back against the tree trunk, Pupa scratched Tinkerbull behind the ears and looked up at the passing clouds.
“That one, uh, looks like a hat!” he pointed, making Highflyer look. Then highflyer pointed out another cloud that looked like a cake until they were both pointing at random, comparing the rough shapes of the clouds to anything even vaguely resembling the silhouette, occasionally getting into small arguments when one would say something looked like a rabbit and the other would claim it was a pair of scissors, though shortly after they mutually agreed that rather than a rabbit or scissors it was a tree instead after which they moved on to the next one.
“That one looks like a pipe!”
“What? I, uh, disagree. The mouth thingie, by which I mean, that is, the stem, doesn’t look anything like uh, that of a peace-pipe at all.”
“Not a peace-pipe dummy. A-a-a, what’s the word, a tobacco pipe.”
He looked troubled for a moment, fidgeting with his shirt. “I think it is, I mean. More important than a peace-pipe.”
“Are you, uh, really sure about that? What kind of thing, or rather, what manner of pipe could possibly be more important than a peace-pipe?” Pupa shifted uncomfortably, laughing half-heartedly. Then, impulsively he shot out a question that had been nagging in his own mind for a while now. “Hey uh, Highflyer? Have you ever, you know, kissed a girl?”
Highflyer scrunched up his face as if he smelled something nasty. “Ewww, no of course not! Don’t you know girls have,” he paused for dramatic effect, waving his arms around to empathies his words “-cooties?”
“How would you know? Have you ever, uh, met one?” Pupa responded, genuinely curious. “Of course I’ve met a girl! We see mermaids all the time!”
“Well yeah, but those are, well, mermaids. They don’t count.”
“Then no, I guess? But does it matter? Everyone knows girls have cooties! Are you saying you’ve ever met one?”
“I, well, uh, no. By which I mean yes, actually, I think I have. And I think she kissed me, and I also think she did something to my legs, possibly?”
“She gave your legs cooties?” Highflyer asked, scooting away from Pupa while giving his legs a dubious look making him laugh out loud.
“No, uh, I don’t think that’s quite how it works. I think it was, uh, something a bit more uncomfortable than that, but the memory is kind of fuzzy.”
Highflyer gave him a long, thoughtful look and with a more serious face then Pupa was used to from him, opened his mouth to say something. Then he seemingly changed his mind and shrugged, jumping off the branch and turning to him in midair. “Come on, Pupa! The trees are getting boring, and I’m hungry. Let’s go home.”
FILL: TEAM DAVE<3ERIDAN
“Come on slowpoke!” Highflyer laughed, whirling around in the air only barely avoiding collision with the tree branches. “You haven’t forgotten how to fly, have you?"
Tinkerbull at his side, Pupa chased after his friend with a devious grin, twirling his daggerlance around in his hand in a boyish gesture of one-upmanship. Everyone knew the only one who flew better than Highflyer was Peter, but Pupa was nothing if not determined to keep up.
Whooping and laughing they raced through the forest, occasionally stopping their wild chase to throw some unskilled play-attacks at each other or investigate something particularly interesting until they finally settled on one of the thick branches of a particularly high tree, looking out over the Neverwood forest, Tinkerbull curling up on Pupa’s lap.
It was too early to return to home underground, they both decided. The sun wasn’t even beginning to set, so they made themselves comfortable. Sitting with his back against the tree trunk, Pupa scratched Tinkerbull behind the ears and looked up at the passing clouds.
“That one, uh, looks like a hat!” he pointed, making Highflyer look. Then highflyer pointed out another cloud that looked like a cake until they were both pointing at random, comparing the rough shapes of the clouds to anything even vaguely resembling the silhouette, occasionally getting into small arguments when one would say something looked like a rabbit and the other would claim it was a pair of scissors, though shortly after they mutually agreed that rather than a rabbit or scissors it was a tree instead after which they moved on to the next one.
“That one looks like a pipe!”
“What? I, uh, disagree. The mouth thingie, by which I mean, that is, the stem, doesn’t look anything like uh, that of a peace-pipe at all.”
“Not a peace-pipe dummy. A-a-a, what’s the word, a tobacco pipe.”
“Uh. A what?”
“A tobacco pipe! You know like-“ Highflyer cut off, suddenly frowning. “You know, I’m sure it’s something really important.”
He looked troubled for a moment, fidgeting with his shirt. “I think it is, I mean. More important than a peace-pipe.”
“Are you, uh, really sure about that? What kind of thing, or rather, what manner of pipe could possibly be more important than a peace-pipe?” Pupa shifted uncomfortably, laughing half-heartedly. Then, impulsively he shot out a question that had been nagging in his own mind for a while now. “Hey uh, Highflyer? Have you ever, you know, kissed a girl?”
Highflyer scrunched up his face as if he smelled something nasty. “Ewww, no of course not! Don’t you know girls have,” he paused for dramatic effect, waving his arms around to empathies his words “-cooties?”
“How would you know? Have you ever, uh, met one?” Pupa responded, genuinely curious.
“Of course I’ve met a girl! We see mermaids all the time!”
“Well yeah, but those are, well, mermaids. They don’t count.”
“Then no, I guess? But does it matter? Everyone knows girls have cooties! Are you saying you’ve ever met one?”
“I, well, uh, no. By which I mean yes, actually, I think I have. And I think she kissed me, and I also think she did something to my legs, possibly?”
“She gave your legs cooties?” Highflyer asked, scooting away from Pupa while giving his legs a dubious look making him laugh out loud.
“No, uh, I don’t think that’s quite how it works. I think it was, uh, something a bit more uncomfortable than that, but the memory is kind of fuzzy.”
Highflyer gave him a long, thoughtful look and with a more serious face then Pupa was used to from him, opened his mouth to say something. Then he seemingly changed his mind and shrugged, jumping off the branch and turning to him in midair. “Come on, Pupa! The trees are getting boring, and I’m hungry. Let’s go home.”