Submission (#8747) Approved

Green, green, and even more green. Boggart gazed around at the thick, emerald foliage all around him. Massive, fan-shaped leaves shot up from the ground to his left. To his right, a thick tangle of vines trailed up the trunk of a tree, covering most of its espresso-colored bark. Soft, silky grass tickled his toe beans as he continued to tread the overgrown path. If it weren’t for the deep, fresh wheel ruts at the edges of the trail, he easily could have lost his way.

 After spending so much time in the vast, open, scorching desert of Ahza, this drastic change of scenery was unnerving. Sure, the shade, cooler temperatures, and plentiful freshwater creeks in this part of Kyendi were nice, but something about the dense jungle vegetation and humid air made him feel like he was in a tunnel and the walls were closing in on him. The eerie, plant-covered ruins and swirls of white mist that flanked the path through the forest didn’t help matters at all.

Just keep walking. One paw in front of the other, thought the little black kittom.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so foolhardy as to make this journey alone. All his books and belongings were probably in Ilrian by now… exactly where he would be if he hadn’t insisted on spending an extra week in Sulapei in pursuit of an elusive book of elseworlder myths and poetry. And after all of that, he had left empty-pawed. No book, no caravan, no companions. Just his own feet, a monochrome environment, and a long, lonely forest road between him and the Sunshard Isles.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give for some company…

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! A long, shrill whistle cut through the silence, prompting Boggart to stop in his tracks, ears perked up and pupils dilated.

What in Eyre was that?

His heart raced, senses elevated. The kittom took a deep breath and cautiously scanned his surroundings. Even the air smelled green out here. But somewhere, mixed in with the smell of crisp leaves, damp soil, and the metallic tang of the mist, he could just barely pick up the faint scent of smoke, mingled with something that seemed vaguely fruity and floral.

As he continued to tiptoe gingerly along the path, the sweet aroma grew stronger. Peach blossom, vanilla, apricot, and oolong. Tea. Hot tea in the jungle. Either this was some clever trick of the fae or someone else was camping out nearby.

Tea could mean company. Tea could mean a break from monotony. Tea could also mean disappearing into the jungle, never to be seen or heard from again. But after so many days alone in this stuffy forest, it seemed worth the risk.

As Boggart followed his nose onto an even more overgrown side path, an unexpected pop of color caught his eye – a splotch of vermilion on a low hanging branch. As he tentatively stepped forward, more dots of vibrant color seemed to pop up around him. A teal blob on a tree trunk, magenta on some vines, ochre on an old, worn stone lantern that had fallen over on the edge of the path. The kittom leaned in to examine the yellowish gold marking on the crumbling stone surface. Was that… a paw print? A very tiny paw print? Someone or something was definitely out here.

…

WHOOOOOOOOOOSH! Something raced through the air over his back and into the foliage to his right.

……

Silence.

………

KERFLOOOOOF! Lilac pigment splashed across his left flank.

…………

More silence.

……………

SKABOOOOOP! Boggart spun around. The tip of his tail was dusted with bright cerulean.

………………

Dead silence.

…………………

“BOOOOOO!”

Boggart turned toward the source of the cry, and a puff of aquamarine caught him right on the tip of the nose. The kittom squeezed his eyes shut and sneezed violently.

……………………

“À vos souhaits,” a diminutive voice called out from the jade canopy directly overhead, followed by a giggle.

“Who… who’s there!”

………………………

Another fit of giggles, this time from behind, followed by a snort.

…………………………

“Okay, fine…” Boggart sniffled. The kittom pulled the worn satchel from his shoulder and held it open in front of him. “You can take whatever you want as an offering, but please let me pass through in peace.”

The black kittom blinked and suddenly found himself face-to-face with a fae. Well, not actually a fae, but a tiny faenin kittom fluttering above the ground, holding out a small bundle in its own paws.

“I surrender,” the stranger giggled and unfurled a white handkerchief between them.

Boggart sniffled again, then reached for the handkerchief and blew his nose.

……………………………

“S… sorry for scaring you…” Giggles.

Boggart glowered at the faenin.

“Um… I saw you wandering through the forest on your own, and you looked lonely. I thought you could use a little color to cheer you up. Color can cure pretty much anything!” The stranger spoke all in one breath, nearly tripping over their words.

Boggart cocked an eyebrow and examined the faenin, noting their flaxen fur, soft blue markings, and rounded white wings. While the faenin lacked particularly bright markings on the outside, they certainly made up for it with a colorful personality… and whatever it was they had pelted him with.

“Uh…… my name’s Cécile. She/her. I’m traveling with a friend. Our camp is just up the road. Early break today. Would you care for some tea and snacks before you continue on your way?” Deep breath.

“Boggart. He/him. Tea sounds fine,” the kittom responded with a sigh. It was the least the faenin could do after giving him such a fright.

………………………………

Boggart followed the faenin toward her camp, marveling as the petite kittom flitted effortlessly through the air. Every few seconds, Cécile dipped a paw into one of several miniature pouches that were strapped to her chest and planted a vibrant paw print on a tree root, leaf, or boulder. Each pouch held a different hue of brightly pigmented powder.

“Would you like to try?” The faenin removed a pouch and held it out.

Boggart grasped the pouch and pulled it open. It was too small for him to dip his own paws, but he sprinkled a little bit of the magenta pigment on the pad and toe beans of one paw and pressed it firmly on the path below him like a stamp. A perfect, radiant imprint was left behind. He repeated this as the two ambled on, alternating paws each time.

With each step, the black kittom’s mood lifted, and he eventually found himself grinning from ear to ear.

When Cécile flew back to check on him, Boggart lifted his paw and blew a puff of magenta right into her face. The faenin sneezed, then smiled and broke out into another fit of giggles.

“Gesundheit!”

The faenin responded by pelting him between the ears with a pawful of ochre.

Boggart laughed and smiled widely. Company, color, and the promise of tea. After so many lonely days in a seemingly endless green corridor, maybe this unexpected detour was exactly what he needed.