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“You see, that’s your problem, Techno. You think you have to take responsibility for everything.”
Techno was stubbornly getting through the thicket, using his sharp sword known for bringing down the heads of his enemies to clean the path by chopping down branches. Wilbur shambling behind him and whining certainly didn’t help with all the annoying sharp thorns.
“That’s kind of my job description,” he gritted through his teeth, “to take responsibility.”
“Is it part of your job description not to ask for directions so we get lost in the woods?”
“We’re not lost,” he swung the sword especially hard, and dry branches crackled and fell onto the ground.
“Yes, this place just screams “not lost” to me,” Wilbur said, and Techno imagined his tired expression perfectly without having to see it.
Techno sighed to himself and continued getting through the spiky bushes in silence. Maybe Wilbur was a tiny bit right, as in, they were slightly lost, but Techno was sure they were on the right track and would soon return to the parts of the forest they both knew like the backs of their hands.
After all, they went to the forests quite often. They usually went on such hunts alone, without the annoying court, using this time to unwind and to talk earnestly without the prying ears of the palace walls. Today they decided to choose an unconventional route though, and it was a great decision: they’d seen a nice birch grove, Techno had shot a flying duck right in its eye, Wilbur had missed a couple shots - the usual fun in the more fresh surroundings. The problem was: it came with not exactly knowing how to get back.
“Are you mad at me now, Techno?” he heard from behind his back after a few minutes of silence disrupted only by crackling branches. “Because I’m just… We should’ve asked that forester. But you think you have to know everything, you just have to be perfect. But that’s not possible.”
“A-a-nd that's the end of the thicket, thank god.”
They stepped out of the bushes and saw a stream glistening under the midday sun. It probably wasn’t a river yet, but in a few turns of the banks it would become one: it was already quite wide and about knee-deep. The placid picture of a frisky stream in the bright-orange frame of the quiet forest was so attractive they would’ve stood here and admired it if not for the hurry to get back in time.
“We’ll wade,” decided Techno, putting his sword back into the scabbard.
“Wait, you’ll maybe be fine in those high jackboots of yours, but I don't want to catch a cold. Let’s just find-”
“I’ll carry you, it’s fine.”
Wilbur stared at him and crossed his arms. “Really? You’ll carry me over this stream?”
“You weigh like nothing! You’re like a feather!”
"I am not doubting your strength, mister- mister Warrior-King, I am just- Techno, wait-”
His protests were left unheard, because Techno grabbed his thin legs and picked him up from the ground in one swift motion, holding him bridal style. Before going into the water, he adjusted the grip a bit to make it more comfortable by tossing Wilbur up a few inches, which made him frantically grab Techno’s collar.
“Wouldn’t it be fun if I just dropped you into the water,” he teased.
“Techno, sometimes you’re just so…” but Wilbur was too annoyed to continue and sighed heavily, still holding on tight to the collar of the coat.
The water splashed and made way for Techno carefully traversing the stream. He walked slowly, afraid to stumble on some rock at the bottom or get a foot in a pit, but he soon faced another challenge: the stream, - no, it seems like it was actually a small river, - turned out to be deeper than expected. At first he didn’t think much of it: so what if the water reached just a bit over his boots, but as he went further even Wilbur started noticing it.
“The water- the water almost reached me, Techno,” he said, instinctively clinging to him, trying to get higher, “Is this part of your plan?”
“We’re halfway through, it’s fine.”
“Is it? That wave! That wave almost touched me!”
Techno sighed. “Okay, just- Just hold on-”
“What are you doing?”
What he was doing was throwing Wilbur over his shoulder in the middle of the river. It wasn’t easy: Wilbur was skinny but tall, and he had to be extra careful so not to drop him. Wilbur made an undignified squeak at first, but then started laughing. His laughter was always highly contagious and Techno also started chuckling at how absurd they were probably looking.
“Happy now?” He continued walking, now carrying Wilbur like a hunter carries a shot deer.
He didn’t respond, just laughed more, and only after a good minute said: “You know what I just noticed? A bridge.”
“I don’t believe that,” said Techno plainly. By this point they were already getting out of the river so he didn’t even look around.
“Right there, on the left. Hard to notice because of the willows, but it’s there.”
Finally, he reached the bank, carefully put Wilbur down on his feet and looked to the left. He wasn’t joking: hidden by the yellow brightness of the leaves, but still visible, the simple wooden bridge was just a short walk away. And if there was a bridge, it meant there was a path, and if there was a path nearby, they were close to getting out of here. Also, the walk through the dense thorny thicket was probably not necessary, come to think of it.
“I should’ve asked the forester for directions,” gloomily concluded Techno.
"Don't be hard on yourself,” laughed Wilbur, relieved after seeing such obvious proof that he was right all along. “It's good to know you are ready to carry us all on your shoulders, but sometimes, you just don't have to."
They started walking to the bridge. The crystal clear air around them was sweet like a cold apple.
"You seem to be forgetting it's Phil who is the life-lesson friend, and you are the fun entertainment one,” Techno put on one of his sarcastic tones.
“Your Majesty,” smiled Wilbur, “I am ready to entertain you with the song I just came up with. It’s called “The King in Wet Pants”, and it’s very funny and even instructive, if you will-”
Techno snorted. “You are so going to the dungeon.”
They laughed and continued walking, filling the silent staleness of the autumn forest with their loud voices.