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John Dory had been on the trail for about a year now. It was kinda hard, if he was being honest. His hiking and camping experience was pretty much restricted to the Troll Tree or somewhere within its cage. The trails were very very different. But he'd read up on survivalist books, and listened to plenty of trolls who'd managed to sneak out for a little back-packing trip and return. So he was mostly prepared for everything.
Except for all of these new kinds of trolls he saw on the trails. They all looked so different. And somehow, within a few words of talking to them, they'd usually say, "Oh, you're a Pop Troll," or something like that. John Dory wasn't sure what they meant by "Pop." He didn't think any of those back-packers who'd made it out to the woods and returned said anything about that. But he wasn't so stupid to not figure that was what they called the trolls who lived in the tree.
Now, these trolls usually seemed to get annoyed with him when he asked questions about them. Like, how did those trolls with fins swim in the air like that? Was it hard for those trolls with four legs to put on and take off pants? Can those trolls with wings still lie on their backs, or is that too uncomfortable? Sometimes, this was met with nothing more than an eye-roll. Sometimes, the troll he was asking got really annoyed.
So, John Dory tried not to ask strangers much of anything anymore.
This was now coming back to haunt him, because he wasn't really prepared for this terrain.
The ground was permanently muddy, it seemed. Some parts were so wet and muddy, John Dory was essentially wading through water. Actually, there were parts that were very much just muddy water. It was just hard to tell those areas apart from the actual ground. It hadn't even been raining, and yet this area looked like it was flooded from a storm!
There were plenty of trees, at least. He could traverse across branches to avoid getting wet. Good, because he'd hurt his hand a bit ago. He didn't want to get a bunch of muddy water on it. He'd get some sort of infection! Although he couldn't just build a campfire up in the trees. And he didn't have enough dry, ready to eat rations on him.
John Dory searched the ground for a dry enough spot for a campfire. He'd already gathered up sticks and twigs from the trees. They'd be dry enough to light. Maybe if the ground was just a little bit damp, it'd be alright. He just needed to stack it right. And keep that wood dry until he could light it.
The mud sucked up his foot. John Dory groaned and tugged on it. Yeah, this definitely wasn't going to be the spot for a campfire. He should get further away from the water. There should be dryer areas further away from where he knew the water was. Maybe he should try to get out of this weird, super muddy part of the Neverglades and back to the kinds of terrain he knew had to travel.
John Dory yanked and yanked on his leg. Right as he got his foot free, he lost his balance. He stumbled back, and his other foot got stuck in the mud. "Damn it..." His foot sank deeper in the mud this time. The mud was up to his knee. He huffed. Alright. This was alright. He had a trowel. He could just carefully dig himself out.
He sighed and pulled the trowel out from where he kept it. "Welp. This is going to take a while." And he began the low process of digging himself out. He moved relatively slow, careful not to scrap his leg. The last thing he wanted was to have a bunch of tiny open wounds with mud and all kinds of gunk getting into them. Although, his hands were already getting muddy. It was going to soak through that bandage on his hand.
And that was his last clean bandage, too.
"Fucking— Oh my God, I think I'd take the troll tree over this." He was exaggerating. Being free was waaaaaaaay better than being stuck in Bergen Town! No worrying every year if he'd get picked to be eaten. Yeah, there were things out here that could eat him, but those were waaaaaaaaaay easier to avoid.
Right as he thought that, John Dory heard a growling noise. He blinked and looked up. He found himself looking into the giant, hungry eyes of a predator critter. Damn it. The nearest branch was just too far for him to grab with his hair. John Dory pulled out the trowel and adjusted his grip to use it as a weapon. "Bring it on!"
The critter grumbled and opened its large, long jaw. Oh wow. He could see all of the teeth on that thing. John Dory stood his ground, though. If it tried to eat him, he'd stab it from the inside!
BANG!
John Dory startled. That sounded like some sort of firecracker, but the noise was sharper. The critter recoiled.
BANG!
The critter retreated. John Dory stared, stunned. Then a voice came out of the brush behind him. "Pretty ballsy for a little guy to try to face off a big croc like that." He turned to look and holy guacamole.
The troll stepped out onto a fallen log, looking down at him. Her pink hair was practically blowing in a subtle breeze. She held this... he couldn't really focus on remembering the name of it, because he was too distracted by how beautiful and badass she looked in the light. Like, holy shit. She could probably beat the shit out of him, and he didn't think he'd mind.
"Were you going to fight off that thing with a trowel? "
John Dory blinked. "Huh?" He looked down at the tool still in his hand. "I... I was improvising! Anything can be a weapon if you're determined enough!" He went back to digging his leg out. "Thanks for the help, by the way!"
"You know, it's a lot easier to get through a swamp by going across the branches. Ground's pretty much all water."
"Well, I can't exactly get a campfire going up in a wooden tree, now, can I?" John Dory wasn't about to just openly admit that he wasn't experienced with hiking this terrain. He wanted this girl to think he was cool.
She snorted. Guess he wasn't too good of a job at looking cool to her. "Dude, do you need help or something? You're taking a while to dig yourself out there."
John Dory's face went warm. "....I swear I'm usually way cooler than this."
"Yeah, yeah. Sure." The other troll looked around quickly for something to... help dig, he guessed.
"Really! I've been living out on the trails for a whole year now! All on my own!"
"You just don't know how to do swamps, do you?" She picked up a large leaf and put it out across the mud. Oh! To help make sure he didn't get sucked back into the mud again! Smart! "To be fair, swamps kinda suck for hiking. At least it's not a big one, so it doesn't take too long to leave it to get back to the regular trails."
"Well, maybe I like a bit of a challenge! Usually." John Dory finally dug his leg out enough to pull it free. He crawled onto the leaf, out of the mud. "But yeah, it sucks butt."
The troll that saved him snickered. "Sucks butt. God, you're a riot." She looked down, and apparently noticed his bandaged up hand. "Damn, you're going to need to get that cleaned up again."
"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm gonna have to try to wash this bandage when I get the chance."
She blinked. "Clean the bandage?"
"Well, yeah. I don't have any clean ones left." He climbed up onto the log she was standing on. She continued to stare at him. "What?"
"Oh. My God." She sighed and pinched her brow.
"What!"
She sighed. "Alright, I've got some clean bandages. And then I'm getting you out of this swamp before you drown in this mud."
John Dory felt touched. This sort of feeling started to swell in his chest. "You don't have to."
"Yeeaaaah, well, I was raised with this thing called morals. " She grabbed onto his wrist, that's so close to holding his hand, and guided him somewhere else. A rock sticking out of the mud, flatter and more space than that fallen over log. John Dory took the opportunity to take his pack off and stretch.
"You know, I don't think I've caught your name yet."
"The name's Angie." Angie dug for something in her own pack. "How about you? Gotta name?"
"John Dory." He said his name proudly. It was a good name. Crowds of fans used to cheer it.
"What, like the fish?"
"Mom liked nature names."
"Hm." She pulled out a first aid kit and gestured for him to sit. He did, and she did the same. He gave her his bandaged hand without being asked. Angie began to unwrap the bandages. "So, how long have you— CHEESUS!" She stared at the now bare hand.
"Yeah, it's kinda rough, huh?" A bunch of scrapes, and that burn from a bit ago that still looked raw.
"Kinda? Dude— can you even feel that?"
John Dory shrugged. "No. I can't feel anything."
"You know that's concerning, right?"
"Well, I can still move my fingers. And it's just the pain that I'm not feeling in it. Can touch things just fine. Why go out of my way to find a doctor somewhere?" He could vaguely sort of feel the slight sting of her cleaning the hand with alcohol. And he could feel her practically holding his hand. Oh geez.
Angie opened her mouth as though to say something, but then closed it. She let out a breath. "Okay, I guess that's not a bad way to think of injuries on the trail. If you actually take care of them. "
John Dory didn't really know what to say to that, so he just sort of shrugged. "With all you're doing to help me, I should figure out a way to pay you back."
Angie sort of scoffed. "With the badasses that raised me, I don't need much of any survivalist help. And if you were offering up sex, I don't really do that whole 'sexual favors as payment' thing."
John Dory's face flushed at that last part. He sputtered, fumbling to figure out how to say words all over again. "I— I didn't mean—" He cleared his throat. "Well, it was your mind that went to that."
She smirked. "It was a joke, dude. You were the one who took it seriously."
"Bold of you to assume there's never been trolls who asked or offered those kinds of favors with me." Fans could get weird .
Angie laughed. "Well, geez! Guess I didn't know who I was dealing with here!"
John Dory's hand was wrapped up once again in good, clean bandages. He held it out to appreciate the other troll's handiwork. Maybe he should wear a glove or something to better protect that hand. "Thanks."
"It's all good! Now to get out of the swamp."
"Going through the trees, right?" John Dory looked up for a good branch to grab onto with his hair.
"Yeah. But why are you—" Angie cut herself off when John Dory stretched his hair up into the trees. "WHAT THE FUCK?!?"
He looked over at her, ready to pull himself up. "What? Doesn't your hair stretch?"
"Not that much! How do you even..." As she stared and tried to process what she was seeing, John Dory got smug.
"Would you like some help, ma'am."
She sighed. "Alright. Fine. But before you get a big head, remember I shot a giant critter to save your ass."
John Dory took Angie's hand, and then he whisked her away up into the trees