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When Phil woke up the next morning, there was a painful crick in his right wing when he sat up. There was sunlight shining through the windows causing him to squint, not expecting the light.
He looked to the nest to find out that Ranboo wasn’t there. In his place, Wilbur had collapsed in the thick pile of blankets and was fast asleep. It was nearing mid-afternoon which was odd that Phil had slept that late. Though, remembering the night before, it was a lot more understandable. And the fact that Ranboo was now missing from the nest sent alarm bells ringing in Phil’s head.
He stood up, stretching his wings. When he looked over at the kitchen he found that the broom was leaning against the counter and the pile of black hair that was on the floor last night was gone. Phil furrowed his eyebrows, looking around for any sight of the enderian. Ranboo already had a bit of a track record for being flighty when he was panicked and Phil really hoped that he hadn’t run off again.
Looking out the front window, Phil saw the small peek of sharp, pointed, black horns and he let out a small sigh of relief. Phil pushed the door open quietly stepping outside, shutting it behind him to not disturb the others still asleep.
“Ranboo?” Phil asked softly. He stood a few feet away from where Ranboo was sitting cross-legged by the edge of the island. Far enough that he wasn’t at risk of falling but he could still look off the edge. Right now Ranboo was just staring off at the distance, his tail sprawled out limply behind him.
Ranboo didn’t react when Phil spoke, not even a flinch.
“Good Morning Phil,” Ranboo said after a long silence. He tilted his head not turning to look. In the daylight, Phil could see the sorry state of his hair more clearly. Choppy uneven strands that fell in messy tangles. There was a matted bit by the back of his neck that was half cut off and it fell around his horns at an awkward angle.
“How are you feeling?” Phil asked, wringing his hands together.
“I’m fine…” there was a small lilt of distortion in his voice. Phil could tell that he was lying.
“Are you sure?”
Ranboo was silent for a long pause. He pulled his knees up to his chest, his tail twitching from where it was laying on the grass, “Shaky still… I guess… I haven’t had a reaction like that since…” he trailed off, his shoulders drooping. Phil saw the way his ears were pinned against his head, he noticed a small scar on his left ear.
Phil moved to sit down next to Ranboo. He flinched as Phil settled himself a few feet away. Far enough that he could relax his wings from where they were pressed against his back and not brush against Ranboo.
“I’m sorry… about last night…” Ranboo said slowly like he was thinking carefully over every word before he said it, “I didn’t mean to freak out like that… it…”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Phil tilted his head to the side. Ranboo clenched his jaw with a grimace.
“Not… not right now… I can’t… I—” Ranboo swallowed thickly, his breath hitching, “I…”
“Later then,” Phil suggested, “we can talk about it later.”
Ranboo sniffled weakly and nodded. There was dried blood under his nails and crawling up his arms. There was dark purple blood on the grass drying. He must have been clawing at his arms previously.
“I don’t… Tommy shouldn’t have had to deal with me— I…” Ranboo curled in on himself, burying his hands in his hair, tugging lightly on the strands before they slipped out of his fingers.
“You can explain it to him when you are ready. Collect yourself first…” Phil said, he leaned back on his hand. His feathers fluffed up as the wind blew through them.
“Okay…”
They sat there a bit awkwardly in silence. Ranboo continued to stare off at the distance, his chin resting on his knees. Phil’s eyes trailed down towards the grass below, watching as the long strands of grass blowing in the wind.
“I think I’m gonna go down…” Ranboo said suddenly, he pushed himself up to his feet, his knees wobbled.
“Huh?”
“Take a walk…” he continued, “collect my thoughts.”
“Be safe,” Phil warned, he stood up as well, putting his hands on Ranboo’s arms and squeezing gently, “be back soon.”
Ranboo nodded, he avoided looking Phil in the face as he slowly descended the ladder down. His tail swished back and forth behind him as he went. Phil watched to make sure he got down safely before he stepped back inside the pub.
Ranboo rubbed his arm weakly, standing under the shade of the floating island. The wind blew softly causing him to shiver. Maybe he should’ve gotten a different shirt, not the one he had slept in. His tail thrashed back and forth behind him as he stepped through the tall grass, his paws crunching over sticks.
The waves were lapping against the shore softly from the lake. Ranboo never got that close to the lake, he had his fair share of water burns and would rather avoid them as much as he can. He stepped through the woods, avoiding holes in the ground and thorn bushes.
He tried to think of what to say when he got back. He had to explain, but every time he thought of telling everyone his throat would seize up and his heart would hammer aggressively in his chest. Ranboo’s ears pressed against his head.
It wouldn’t make sense either. It was such a silly thing, how his hair being longer than shoulder length reminded him over and over of being in prison. That he couldn’t stand the whirring of his ender pearl or the tightness in his chest that it caused after spending more nights without it than with it. Or that being restrained in any way sent his heart fluttering and he couldn’t breathe. Or how anything metallic rattling reminded him of chains and—
Tears were streaming down Ranboo’s face before he even realized it. He hissed at the burning sensation that made his eyes water more. He sat down underneath a tall oak tree, curling his knees up to his chest. He flexed his paws, clawing at a patch of moss near the exposed roots of the tree.
Ranboo heard shuffling from behind him and his ears perked up. He sat up quickly, staring in the direction of the noise. His heart rate quickened and he got ready to bolt if he needed to. His mouth tasted of blood and he crouched low, squinting in the bushes.
A black paw-like hand stuck out from the bushes, followed by an arm, then a small white fox-like muzzle flecked with spots of black and a black nose twitching with every sniff.
“Ah, you’re no hunter,” Came a smooth voice from the bush. Ranboo scrambled back as whoever was on the other side pushed themself out of the bush, thorns clinging to their clothes.
The person in front of him was small in stature, orange tufts of fur adorned his face before fading to white as it went more towards his mouth and nose. He crouched low to the ground, observing Ranboo with his beady black eyes, fluffy pointed white ears twitching side to side. He was wearing a large brown cloak with colorful stitches on the hems. It seemed like it was made to cover someone much bigger than him.
His shirt was a dirt white button-up and there were magenta-colored stains near the bottom that could either be human blood or from some sort of fruit. His pants were tied up with a thick leather belt and cuffed halfway up his calves. He wore no shoes, black paws crunched against the ground, the black fur fading into orange.
His hair was orange and fell in fluffy curls with small white streaks adorning it. An oversized hat with holes cut for his ears fell in front of his eyes that he pushed away with the back of his hand.
Ranboo stared at him with wide eyes, his tail curling around his arm as anxiety caused his stomach to churn. The man in front of him crouched forward, his nose twitching. A bushy orange and white tail swayed back and forth behind him.
“What’s an enderling like you doing out here all alone?” He asked, curling his fingers around the grass. His voice was sickly sweet and smooth like honey. He bared sharp teeth in what could only be assumed as a friendly smile.
Ranboo opened his mouth to respond, his voice getting caught in his throat. He let out a low warble and backed up.
“Hey, hey, hey,” the fox man held up his hands in a placating gesture, leaning back on his haunches, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Even though Ranboo towered over the man even while crouched down as small as possible, his statement worked slightly to reassure Ranboo. He still didn’t uncurl himself or get any closer to the man, even going as far as backing up a few inches.
“Curious what you’re doing all alone,” he leaned his head forward, his snout dipping towards the floor, “was sure enderlings like you would have a pack of your own.”
“I’m not an enderling,” Ranboo said slowly, a hint of embarrassment in his voice at being mistaken for a child.
“Well you sure aren’t a full-grown Enderian,” he said, licking his lips, “knew a fella like you once, was taller than you could ever imagine. Ten—er… twelve feet tall I bet… you’re just a little one.”
Ranboo chose not to comment on the man's height. He seemed like he would barely come up to Tubbo’s chest if he was lucky. Anyone would seem that tall if you were just that short.
“Thought you would’ve been a hunter,” The man continued, he spread his hands as he talked, his eyes darting back and forth, “the woods full of 'em.”
“You’re looking for hunters?” Ranboo asked, his voice hinted with anxiety.
“Why sure,” The man smiled again, it looked more like a grimace, “they’ve got loot. And I like to own their loot. You haven't had the chance to see any hunters nearby have you?”
Ranboo shook his head quickly, his eyes wide.
“You’ve had a run-in with them before I’m sure,” the man plopped down on the ground, no longer crouching. He spread his legs out in front of him, stretching his paws, “Enderlings like you always have to be wary, especially alone in the woods. Hunters will grab any chance they can take to nab one of you folk.”
“What…?” Ranboo asked, he furrowed his eyebrows, picking at the hem of his shirt.
“Mhm,” he hummed and shrugged, picking a thorn out of his cloak, “like to keep you like pets. A prize if you will, that they can tame a beast as wildly as an Enderian.”
Ranboo grimaced, his stomach churning with growing nausea. The man sniffed and seemed to move on from that conversation topic.
“Say, you’ve got an ender pearl?” He asked, leaning forward with interest.
“Yes…?” Ranboo muttered, curling his hand around his shirt.
“Oh, I beg you, lemme see,” His eyes lit up, “I’ve never seen a real ender pearl in person. Other Enderian I knew never let me see.”
“Uh…” Ranboo scooted back a bit more.
“I won’t do nothing to it, I just wanna see it, please,” The man clasped his hands in front of his chest, his claws peeking up from his paws.
Ranboo, confused and a bit worried, pulled down the collar of his shirt so that some of his ender pearl was visible. The man clapped his hands together excitedly.
“Oh how pretty,” he grinned, baring his teeth, his eyes scrunching up.
He babbled on about something else that Ranboo wasn’t really paying attention to, his ears drooped and he still sat in the same uncomfortably tense position. He didn’t dare move, ready to bolt if this man tried to harm him in any way.
“Right, I believe I forgot to introduce myself,” the man slapped his forehead and leaned back some, “the name is Fundy. Spelled with a y.” He stuck his paw out to Ranboo, shaking it expectantly when Ranboo didn’t move.
“It’s uh… it’s Ranboo,” Ranboo took his hand, shaking it weakly. Ranboo’s hand was nearly three times the size of Fundy’s but he shook it excitedly. Dropping his paw back to his lap and resuming pulling thorns out of his clothes.
“Ranboo is an interesting name,” Fundy said, his ears twitching back and forth, “does it mean something specific? Sounds a lot like Rainbow in common.”
“It uh… it does I suppose,” Ranboo shuffled uncomfortably, “Rainbow?”
“The colorful thing in the sky that happens sometimes when it rains?” Fundy tilted his head to the side, his nose twitching, “some explanation as to why I don’t know it though.” He leaned back on his hands and shrugged with a breathy laugh.
“Never seen one. I don’t really... go out in the rain.”
“Ah, makes sense,” Fundy shuffled under his cloak, producing a satchel that Ranboo didn’t even notice he had, “here I’ll draw one for you.”
He pulled out a pad of wrinkled paper, the edges were stained with the same magenta substance and he smoothed out some of the wrinkles. The next thing he pulled out piqued Ranboo’s interest.
It was a small box that when Fundy opened it was filled with colored sticks of all different colors. Ranboo’s eyes lit up as Fundy selected a few colors, sketching lines on the paper and filling them in with colors. Red, orange, yellow, green, and blue. He drew them out in a messy arc-like shape and presented the drawing to Ranboo with a proud grin.
“Is that... really what it is?” Ranboo asked with disbelief, “the sky doesn’t have all those colors though.”
“I am being right truthful,” Fundy said with a nod. He set the pad of paper down on the ground, “the rain makes it, must be some colors there somewhere I’m sure.”
“What are those?” Ranboo pointed at the box of colored sticks, his eyes wide, “They’re pretty.”
“Ah, that’s chalk,” Fundy said, some of the pieces were chipped and broken in half, he shifted some of them around, “hmm.”
Fundy put the chalks that he had used to draw the picture of a rainbow back in the box and he closed the lid. He placed it on top of the pad of paper and extended it to Ranboo.
“How bout you take it with you hm?” Fundy shrugged, “I don’t got much use for it and you’d seem like you’d have fun with it. Plus, I see kids in town with them all the time, if I want another I could nab it for myself.”
When Ranboo made no attempt to take it, still trying to process what Fundy was saying, Fundy pushed the pad of paper and box of chalk into his lap with a small sniff. Ranboo blinked, his mouth half-open.
“Thank you…” Ranboo said, his tail wagging behind him.
Fundy coughed into his fist and shrugged, “course. You never did tell me why you were out here all alone though.”
Ranboo looked down at the pad of paper, the colored drawing of the rainbow staring up at him, “uh… I’m… clearing my head… it… some stuff happened last night.”
“Mm,” Fundy hummed, he crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned back on his hands, “most people sitting out in the woods alone have something on their mind.” Fundy glanced down at the ground, his nose twitched and he stuck his tongue out from between his teeth.
“Yeah… I guess so…” Ranboo rubbed at the back of his neck, his claws scraping at the skin.
“I saw you through the bush, you here looking like a wreck and a half,” Fundy nodded, looking Ranboo up and down again, his black eyes wide and unblinking, “figured something was up.”
“Yeah uh… ha… long night,” Ranboo ducked his head, “don’t really wanna talk about it… right now.”
“That ‘right now’ leads me to believe that you’ve gotta talk about it some time,” Fundy scooted to lean against a nearby tree, stretching his arms above his head, “you don’t look much thrilled about it.”
“It’s hard to talk about…”
“Mm,” Fundy shrugged, rubbing at his nose, “things are gonna be hard to talk about. Though I’m sure you’ll feel better after confiding in someone. Not as much going on inside your head.” He tapped at his temple, “it’ll clear up a little bit because you’ve had a chance to talk out your thoughts instead of letting them fester.”
“I suppose.”
Fundy didn’t seem to be done, he continued on, “if something bothers you, you gotta say it out loud because then you might be able to realize why it bothers you. I find that the solutions to problems are easier to find when speaking out the problem.”
Ranboo was silent, he stared at his lap, “I don’t think it’s really a problem it’s just… something I did last night and… I’m gonna have to explain and… and I don’t know if…” Ranboo curled in on himself, rubbing at his ears a low warble coming from the back of his throat.
“A jumbled explanation is better than no explanation. I think whoever needs an explanation would understand better than you think, and even then, it would be better for the others to understand you somewhat, rather than not at all,” Fundy picked at the moss on the ground, flexing his paws.
“Maybe… you don’t know what happened though…”
“Most problems have similar solutions.”
The two of them were silent for a long time. Until Ranboo spoke up again.
“What about you?”
Fundy hummed, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
“You said that most people sitting alone in the woods have something on their mind,” Ranboo repeated then prompted again, “what about you.”
Fundy barked a breathy laugh, looking a bit sheepish, “ah, well. Y’know. Not much to think about, looking for hunters to try and steal from and all that.”
“Right… Why do you steal from hunters?”
Fundy didn’t seem to expect that question, his eyes widened before he thought for a moment, “they’ve got the best loot. They never see it coming either. Don’t notice until a few days when they notice what I stole is missing. Better than trying to fight them, I could never do that.”
“But isn’t it dangerous, what if you get caught,” Ranboo leaned forward, his eyes widening.
Fundy clicked his tongue, “if I get caught, I get caught I s’pose. No hybrid is a fan of hunters. We all got our share of bad memories, but unlike a strong hybrid like you I couldn’t go and fight them directly.” Ranboo flinched, a small grimace curling his lips up. He tasted the ghost of blood in his mouth.
“I’m small, I’m quiet, they never notice me and I get to mooch off of their riches,” Fundy shook his head, “enough of that talk though. Hunters—” he waved his hand dismissively, “—bah. The lot of them got half a brain to function with anyway.”
Ranboo laughed softly. He stared up at the sky, the sun was overhead directly. He should probably be heading back to the pub, Phil would be starting to get worried. He didn’t want them to think that he had run off again.
“I think I need to go…” Ranboo said, “Phil will get worried.”
Fundy nodded knowingly, “don’t wanna keep your family waiting for too long, sure they care for you a lot. Though, might wanna get someone helping with that hair of yours.”
Ranboo noticeably flinched this time, Fundy bit his tongue figuring that was the wrong thing to say.
“Here, lemme see that pad of paper of yours for a sec,” Fundy held his hand out and confusedly Ranboo handed it back to him. Fundy flipped to the next page, pulling out a wrinkled map from his satchel. Ranboo was beginning to notice a pattern in the splotches that adorned his shirt and so far everything that he had pulled from his bag.
Fundy began tracing the lines of the map on the pad of paper with a pencil that he produced from his bag as well. His lines were a bit shaky but it gave a clear enough picture of the woods and the surrounding towns.
“I don’t stay in one place for long but if you ever wanna find me again, I’ll probably be somewhere around this area,” Fundy marked a circle on the map, landmarks and large trees dotting the area, “I hope we meet again, Ranboo.” He handed the pad of paper back to Ranboo and Ranboo stared at the map, examining the curves and different markings.
“I hope we do too—” Though when Ranboo looked back up, Fundy was gone. A small tuft of fur caught on a branch the only sign that he had even been here. Ranboo stared at the bush where he had been in front of moments prior for a long while, his mouth half-open mid-sentence. He missed the fox-man’s presence already.
Though as he had declared a few moments before, Ranboo collected the box of chalk and the pad of paper, clutching it to his chest as he slowly made his way through the woods back the way he came. His ears twitched with every rustle of the branches and his tail swished back and forth behind him.
The large floating island was in sight in front of him, the ladder swaying in the wind. He couldn’t see movement from inside from where he was standing and he hoped that no one would see him approach. He wanted to come to them for once, he didn’t need them to meet him on the ground again.
Curling his tail securely around the box of chalk and the paper, making sure that he wouldn’t drop it. Ranboo began the tedious climb up to the top of the island, his tail curled close to himself, the materials clenched tightly.
He pulled himself up onto the grass, it tickled against his face and he quickly gained his balance so he didn’t accidentally fall off. He heard talking and laughing from inside and anxiety curled his stomach into tight knots. He debated disappearing back into the woods for a while until he figured that he could talk about it. But he figured that he had enough time to collect his thoughts.
The door creaked loudly as he pushed it open, clutching the paper and chalk to his chest tightly, almost protectively. Tommy was hanging off one of the banisters on the ceiling, shouting down at Wilbur with a prideful expression. Tubbo was also in the banisters, clutching onto the wood tightly. Phil was in the kitchen. Tommy looked up when he heard the door open and his eyes widened.
“Ranboo!” His expression was filled with relief and he jumped down from the banisters, his wings flapping behind him and slowing his fall. Phil peeked around the corner and smiled softly, his wings fluffing up. Tubbo grinned at Ranboo and waved, still clutching onto the banister for dear life while his wings fluttered behind him.
Wilbur looked over, flashing invisible for a second and reappearing a few feet in front of Ranboo.
“Where have you been?” Wilbur asked, worry filling his tone.
“I…” Ranboo took a step back, his voice catching in his throat.
“Wilbur, give him some space,” Phil warned, stepping over, “are you feeling better now?”
Ranboo nodded weakly, Tommy was tucked behind Wilbur, peeking over his shoulder. His wings were fluffed up.
“What do you have?” Tommy asked, his eyes wide with interest. Ranboo warbled weakly, stepping further into the room.
“Chalk…” Ranboo muttered, showing Tommy the paper and the chalk. Tommy’s eyes widened.
“Woah…” His eyes traced along the drawing of the rainbow, it was a bit smudged from Ranboo carrying it around, but it still looked practically the same as when Fundy drew it.
Tommy didn’t ask where Ranboo got it from, neither did Phil or Wilbur. There were tons of old buildings dotted around in the woods, the chances of Ranboo coming across one and finding them inside were high. Ranboo didn’t say anything about meeting Fundy. Their conversation and meeting seemed like it needed to stay between him and Ranboo.
“Ranboo would you be okay if I finish cutting your hair?” Phil asked, he put his hand gently on Ranboo’s arm. His expression was soft and his eyes sparkled with understanding even though Ranboo figured he didn’t really understand.
Ranboo swallowed thickly, his hands tightening around the paper. But he nodded. \
Tommy followed Ranboo as Phil led him to sit down at the counter. Phil stood on an upturned bucket to be able to reach Ranboo’s head when he wasn’t slouched down to be able to cut his hair. Ranboo took a deep breath, steeling himself as Phil’s hands carded through his hair, brushing out whatever tangles he could and snipping out the knots. Fixing what had been done last night.
Sitting next to him was Tommy, who was staring at the box of chalk and the paper. Ranboo flipped to a blank page. He scooted it until it was between both he and Tommy and moved the box of chalk so that Tommy could use them as well. He tapped on the page and gestured to Tommy, hanging him one of the worn-out pieces.
Tommy’s eyes lit up and he took the piece of chalk. The chalk scritched softly as Tommy pressed it to the paper, making small splotches with each color and admiring it with awe. Ranboo did something similar. Wilbur was over by the rafters trying to coax Tubbo down.
Phil was humming softly as he worked, the soft snips of the shears made Ranboo flinch.
“What happened to your ear?” Phil asked, “there’s a scar on the back of it.”
Ranboo licked his lips, picking at the box that held the chalk, “uh… I… I think I nicked it when I cut my hair the first time… when I got out of… the hunter camps…”
“Oh…”
There was silence again for a few seconds. Those few blissful moments that Ranboo spent admiring the colors on the paper before Phil spoke up again.
“Ranboo, what happened last night?” Phil asked, setting the shears down on the counter, he must be finished with Ranboo’s hair then.
Ranboo debated brushing the question off, saying he’d explain another time. That he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. But Tommy was looking at him now and words were spilling out of his mouth unlike how he usually got tongue-tied when put on the spot.
“I uh… I think I had a nightmare… I don’t—I don’t remember what happened but it… I was scared and I…” Ranboo picked at a chip on the counter, “I couldn’t remember where I was… everything was so dark and my… my hair it…” Ranboo clenched his jaw, his breath caught in his throat and he could feel his heart rate spike. He had to calm down, he couldn’t continue if he would freak out every time he talked about it.
Phil gave him the space to collect himself, Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed and he put the chalk back in the box. Ranboo traced his claws along his arms, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that he could feel the light pressure.
“It was in my face… and… and it’s so stupid ,” Ranboo bared his teeth, frustrated at himself for a small moment, “it… my hair grew out long… in the camps and I—It reminded me of that. Hunters would… they yank me by the hair and… and it gets caught and it’s… it gets dirty and—”
He stopped again, noticing when his voice was starting to become thick with distortion. He buried his face in his arms, leaning over the counter, a small breeze blowing on the back of his neck which caused him to shiver. A hand was placed gently on his arm. He figured it was Tommy.
“Sorry I… I didn’t mean to freak out like that… last night I—I had to get rid of it… the memories were too much I couldn’t… couldn’t handle it… I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ranboo was muttering, so he didn’t know if either of them had even understood, “It’s such a stupid reminder… out of everything that happened… I don’t… I don’t understand.”
After a small pause, Tommy spoke up, “last night was scary…” he admitted, “seeing you in hysterics like that really shook me up. It’s okay though because you’re still here. And those hunters are going to get hell for what they did to you.”
Ranboo laughed weakly, his eyes filling with tears.
“It’s not stupid, Ranboo,” Phil said calmly, “Nightmares and memories happen to the best of us. If your hair is bothering you, you can always come to me and I’ll help cut it. We’re all glad that you’re okay.”
Ranboo turned his head to the side, staring up at Tommy. His ear twitched.
“Having long hair has always meant being in camps…” Ranboo said, “I know you said it… it’s a status symbol for Enderians and I was trying to live up to that… I wanted… I wanted to have that feeling… to associate it with something else besides that terrible place… but I can’t, I couldn’t do it…”
“Well, how long has your hair been growing out?” Phil asked, “Weeks? However long you’ve been here it’s been growing out. Your hair was really short when I found you.”
Ranboo looked over his shoulder at Phil, unsure of where this was going.
“What I mean is that even though you had to cut your hair last night, that doesn’t mean that you couldn’t do it. You did do it. That was a bit of an improvement, wasn’t it? You can keep working towards it if you’d like, or I can cut it more often to keep it short,” Phil spread his hands as he talked, shifting the way his wings were folded behind his back.
“Thanks, Phil,” Ranboo muttered, “I’m gonna have to think about that…”
He leaned his head back down on the counter, staring at the blotches of chalk that he and Tommy had drawn on the pad of paper, the magenta stains that wrinkled the edges of the paper. Tommy pushed the paper up a little bit, leaning his head on his arms as well, staring at Ranboo, his face scrunched up. He smiled softly and Ranboo managed a small smile back. His ear twitched.
“You know,” Ranboo said after a bit, a breathy laugh coming from his throat, “sometimes it hurts… my ender pearl… I’ve been so used to not having one… having a formed one hurts a lot at times… it… it’s like an ache and it makes it hard to breathe…” might as well get that one off his chest.
Tommy hummed softly, “I don’t really know the same feeling but sometimes my wings ache as bad as it was when I got injured before… like, I know the pain isn’t there anymore but still. That’s not really comparable but it… I’m trying to say that I get that…”
Ranboo smiled again, his eyes scrunching up and he nodded. Phil huffed a small laugh, patting Tommy’s head and giving Ranboo’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Suddenly, Wilbur appeared in front of the two on the other side of the counter.
“You two are laying on my cooking space, I gotta make lunch so, off,” Wilbur said playfully, swatting at the two of them with a rolled-up piece of paper. Tommy squawked indignantly and jumped up from where he was sitting at the counter. Ranboo warbled offendedly and sat up slowly, grabbing his pad of paper and chalk, clutching it to his chest.
Wilbur continued sweeping at them with the paper lightly until they both stood up and were away from the counter. Wilbur’s tail flicked and his eyes glinted with amusement. He must have finally gotten Tubbo down from the rafters because the bee hybrid was buzzing excitedly, trying to see what Ranboo had.
Ranboo showed him enthusiastically while Wilbur moved to make lunch, Phil had swept the remnants of Ranboo’s hair into a small pile that he had swept up and put in the trash bin.
After lunch, Ranboo told Tommy and Tubbo about Fundy. He had had a bit of a debate with himself and he decided that he couldn’t keep the story of the man all to himself. He whispered it to them in the nest while Phil and Wilbur were off doing something, his tone lighting up with fondness.
Tubbo listened with interest, Tommy with curiosity and a bit of confusion.
“He gave me the chalk and paper,” Ranboo said, “and he drew the rainbow on the page too. To show me what it looked like.”
“You’ve never seen a rainbow?” Tommy asked, Ranboo figured that would’ve been the only takeaway he got from the conversation.
“I can’t get wet.”
“Right. I forgot.”
Ranboo doodled small drawings of flowers and stick figures with as many colors as he could in the scene while Tommy and Tubbo argued about what color to put the sun as in the picture. Ranboo laughed at them, his tail wagging back and forth.
After coming to the conclusion that yes, they would be using yellow to color the sun (Tommy wanted to color it orange, like at sunset), they admired the picture. It was a crude and smudged drawing of the fields around the floating island. Flowers drawn not at all to actual scale compared to the rest of the drawing and trees that were just bumpy blobs of green and brown.
The three were quite proud of their work. They had used almost all the colors in the box and admired it with great interest. Showing it off to Phil and Wilbur when they returned to the pub. Phil tacked it up on the wall near the door proudly. The edge of the page was wrinkled with the magenta stain that Ranboo still had yet to theorize the origins of. It served as a reminder of Fundy.
Ranboo stared at the map that Fundy had drawn, his eyes tracing the treelines and the different landmarks that had been drawn. The house that Tommy and him had found was there as well, maybe he and Ranboo would go back there someday. There were probably more books in ender that he could retrieve, and who knew what else was around that area.
There were two villages marked on the map as well, it was about as much as it could fit on one page though. Ranboo didn’t like to think about the villages. Instead, he examined the various landmarks within the circle that Fundy had drawn.
He hopes they’ll meet again in the future.