Work Text:
Patton curls up, layers upon layers of himself running through a fragile shell.
Too fragile, whispers the call of instinct. Too small. More, more, more.
Bigs prowl through foreign, not-Patton grasses with some of the littlest of the Littles carried on their backs.
Big-Blooming and Little-Vine see something up ahead and call it out. Patton jolts, leaping easy-as-you-please into their mind and borrowing their sight.
It’s a biggest one! thinks Little-Vine. It’s a biggest one EVER!
Is this safe? thinks Big-Blooming, back aching from the weight of her Little.
Patton coos, soothing over pain with a brief flash of warmth. “Hello, Big-Blooming,” he whispers. “Mind if I jump in?”
Not now? Big-Blooming shakes her head, filled with thoughts of distraction and danger and risk. Is it ok if I say not now?
“Always!” Patton chirps. “Always ok to say no. Little-Vine?”
Only if I get to see it too! Little-Vine complains. I don’t wanna miss strange things.
“Of course,” Patton says. “But if anything dangerous goes on — I’ll yoink you back and keep you safe — even if the body fails.”
What’s that mean? Little-Vine cocks their head to the side, mouthing out the words. Patton, what’s that mean?
Something snaps — a branch or a bone or a neck — and he drags them back, tucking them into warmth-safety-fondness and leaving the body as a new, tiny shell for him to take over.
Very mean, doing that. But much, much meaner to leave poor Little-Vine to get hurt.
Big-Blooming readies her spear as Patton shakes himself out, squirming off of her back and landing to the ground with a little thump.
“Woah,” Patton says with a real voice, with a mouth missing most of its teeth and a voice that slurs and messes up some of his vowels no matter what how careful he is. “Big-Blooming, this is prettier than the prettiest place in the palace!” he marvels.
The trees loom big and tall, shadows so dark that anything could be lurking in them. The leaves are a dark color, near-purple with a red tinge on the trees and a blue tinge on the bushes. The grasses are red.
Little-Vine sticks out like a flower in a thorn bush, their body a muddied green. So too does Big-Blooming, their bright, golden coat a sudden and striking disadvantage.
In his real body, Patton shivers. There is no one who can reach out to soothe him, as is the way of things
“Patton, is Little-Vine back home?” Big-Blooming asks.
“Yep, yep! Tucked nice and cosy, next to Little-Rosy,” Patton reassures, toddling closer to the shadow.
Big-Blooming frowns, sending off waves of quiet displeasure. Patton can’t quite see her thoughts in this form, but he still has the normal amount of extrasensory input.
Something snaps again.
Both of them yelp and startle, Patton’s fur standing on end as Big-Blooming’s ears pivot in confused circles, trying to catch the sound as her muzzle wrinkles to better taste the air.
Patton doesn’t bother with that. He stares forward, catching a hint of fear-dread matched up with the stench of adrenaline and punctuated with curiosity-wonder- hope.
“Big-Blooming,” he says. “That is a creature I have not seen. It is not aggressive — but it is afraid,” he explains, to her relief. “Scared things are dangerous. Scared things bite. Little-Vine needs to come back to a body that isn’t broken but I need to find this creature. Connect with it. Communicate.”
Big-Blooming scowls, deep in thought, then reluctantly nods. “Reach out with your real form,” she suggests. “I know you’ll take me out of my body — but reach out for real. Send Little-Vine’s body back to the rest but leave mine here. I’m better with this kind of thing than normal.”
“Ok,” Patton nods back. “Easy as we please?”
“Easy as you please.”