He hesitated, doing so. His expression was rather downcast. He'd have to face Dahlia. *** She looked a little self conscious. "Since when have you ever been interested in a conversation with me? You only ever thought of me as naive and I still don't know your name."
She bound his wrists and tugged him back through the exit, going deeper than the cellar into a holding cell, dark and musty. “Just... stay here until we figure out what to do with you,” the girl said, shoving him in and closing the door. *** He looked genuinely confused for a moment, going to the edge of the branch and eyeing the distance for a moment before jumping down, smoothly entering a roll and standing up out of it. The whole stunt took only a second, and it was seamless, as though he had done it thousands of times before. “Goodness,” he said, tilting his head curiously. His eyes glittered like jade, his lips curving up in a slight smirk. “I’m surprised I made that much of an impression. I figured that saving someone from being eaten by an owl... well, an act like that might be easily forgotten, but judging by your attitude and behavior...” He gestured between the two of them, somehow indicating her hostility in one gesture. “It seems as if you haven’t forgotten in the slightest.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but opted to remain silent, leaning against the wall. *** She just watched him. It seemed hard to keep up a tough act for her, and she stopped, her arms dropping as she put the hook in her bag again, sighing slightly. "No, I haven't forgotten. And it's rude to throw berries at people, you know."
The girl glared before turning to leave, heading for the stairs. *** “It’s also rude to be hostile, but you don’t see me complaining, do you?” he asked smoothly, moving past her to inspect the berry plant. “Did you have to cut it at the stem?”
He sighed, resting his head against the wall as he whimpered slightly. *** She crossed her arms. "I didn't want to risk climbing. I'm not as sure-footed as you."
Hours passed. Occasionally, one of the tribe would come down the stairs and look at him, but this seemed more curious than anything else. Finally, he would hear her; he knew her well enough to recognize her footsteps. She came running down the stairs, her brows furrowed and her hair wild. When she saw him, she fell completely silent, just staring at him. *** “Perhaps,” he agreed. “But now you can’t come back to it next year.”
He looked up at her. His eyes were slightly red and puffy, but he quickly wiped them. "Dahlia.." *** "I plan on planting the seeds," she said easily, looking down at it. "That's what I do every time." She shook her head, looking up at him. "Let me make it up to you for acting bad mannered earlier.. I have a new prototype I've been working on."
Tears might have filled her eyes, but that wasn't right. Dahlia didn't get sad. Sadness was not something she did. As he watched, she quickly swiped at her eyes and advanced, her expression darkening. That was better. Dahlia didn't get sad. Dahlia got angry. "You tried to steal from my tribe?" she growled, her voice fierce. "Mine?! You tried to take our food? What is the matter with you?!" * * * He squinted, shifting on his feet warily. "Forgive me if I don't immediately trust you."
He shrunk back, his expression sad. "I'm sorry, Dahlia.." *** She waved him off, setting her bag down and rifling through it. "That's fair. Try not to worry too much. It's worked for me."
She stared at him, her brows furrowed. "Why?" she asked after a moment, her voice shaking. "Why would you do this?" * * * He laughed, his voice husky and low. "I'm sure. Seen any owls lately?"
He sucked in through his teeth. He sat up, and when he did so she would see the shirt, which used to fit him well, was now rather baggy and loose. It had affected his face too, his eyes were slightly sunken, and cheekbones more defined. This would have taken effect in the last few weeks. "My- My tribe has gotten desperate, Dahlia.. I didn't want to have to do anything, but I had to.. They told me I didn't have a choice." *** She paused, squinting up at him, before pulling out a makeshift device that looked a it like a gun, with a hook poking out of the barrel.
She crossed her arms, her shoulders slumping as she studied him with furrowed brows. "You could have told me," she said, her voice hushed. "I tell you everything. You could have told me." She straightened up after a moment, the fire in her eyes still present. "You could have told me," she repeated again, her voice stronger. "You decided that I wasn't allowed to know and you just decided to steal from my tribe. Do you think we have infinite food down here? Do you think we don't struggle too?" She was getting angrier again, he could tell. "'You didn't have a choice'. Bull*squee!*. You could have told me." * * * He stepped back, but there was an intrigued glint to his eye. "What is that?"
He looked down, hesitating. "Your parents still don't know about me. Of at least our friendship.. I didn't want to ask you for so much." *** She looked up at a tree branch a bit high above them, pointing it up at it "Grappling hook. You point it at where you want to go and.." She pressed the trigger, and the grapple flew up, wrapping around the branch. She smirked at him before pressing a button on the back and gripping it tight, the wire tightened and she went up to the branch quickly, an excited expression on her face. It worked surprisingly fast. Once she got up to the branch, she look down at him, a grin on her face.
"So you tried to steal from my family instead," she replied incredulously. "You didn't want to ask, so you decided to just take instead." She shook her head, looking away from him for a moment. When she spoke again, she sounded like she might have been on the verge of tears. "You were my best friend." * * * He put his hands on his hips, looking up at her with a cheeky grin. "Impressive, Nascha," he said smoothly, tilting his head. "Are you able to get back down?"
"I didn't want to do it, Dahlia," he whimpered. "You know I wouldn't do it unless I have no other choice." *** She looked to her gun, slipping off the branch and slowly coming down. Once she was on the ground she pressed another button and the hook got loose, coming back to her.
"You had a choice," she replied sharply, turning away from him. "You had so many choices. You just made the wrong ones." She headed for the stairs, going up them two at a time. * * * He watched in interest, his hands behind his back and his head tilted. "Fascinating. How does it work?"
His voice cracked slightly as he called to her. "Dahlia! Please.." *** She stood next to him, showing him all the buttons. "This one is the one that makes you go up, pulling in the wire. This one slowly releases the wire to go down, and this one makes the hook collapsible, so it's easy to unhook it and get it back."
She didn't look back. (Zoop?) * * * He watched, his eyes alight with curiosity. There was almost a childlike fascination in his gaze and he gave her a small smile. "Important, I suppose, when you don't know how to climb trees," he replied cheekily, straightening up again.
(Yoop!) *** She looked over at him, her gaze warm. "And convenient, even if you do know how to climb trees. This is generally faster."
Late that night, the house was silent. Everyone had gone to bed. Dahlia moved silently down the stairs, a bowl in her hand and a blanket over her arm, her brows furrowed. * * * He tilted his head. "Oh, it is?" he said with a smirk. "Let's put that to the test, then."
