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The loud sound of laughter echoed through the forest trees, sending birds flitting to the skies and forest creatures to flee to their safe and cozy homes. It was almost as if a spectre haunted the very trees, voice severed into two harmonious cackles.
If you were to look up, however, you would be met with the peculiar appearance of two teenage boys cradled in the boughs of the tree, sharing chocolates and completely unbothered by the natural world around them.
The problem with sitting in trees, however, was the constant reminder that if you made one wrong move, you'd fall. And no one wanted to fall out of this tree. This tree was tall, and surrounding it was thorny bush and thick, spiky brambles. No one was going to fall.
It was just a simple little joke. Just one airborne chocolate destined for Fern’s mouth, just one too many steps back. Time slowed down. The pull of gravity tugged at their navel, yanking them down to the brambles below. They desperately flapped their wings, but to no avail. Their wings had been long gone, the hope to fly was like the hope to go back to Frenatae and take their rightful place as king. Their descent to the branches and bush below quickened, and they suddenly fell into a thick wall of bramble and thorn with a sickening crunch.
Everything hurt. There was the distant sound of their name being ripped from Arcade’s very lungs. The faint thought that they loved someone. That was all they could remember before they woke up to Arcade cradling their face, his face twisted in fear and anguish.
“Fern!” His voice rasped as if he'd be screaming for a long time.
It was a herculean effort to turn their head, let alone move. Every inch of Fern’s body stung. The thorns clawed at them, stuck into their skin, ripped out chunks of their hair. Arcade waded through the bush to pull them out, garnering tears in his clothes and skin he couldn't feel, adrenaline diluting his blood. The only thing that mattered was Fern.
As Arcade pulled them up by their arms, Fern gasped and winced as the thorns ripped through their skin. A searing, burning pain flooded into their back and wings. They were stuck. In his desperation to help Fern, Arcade tugged harder, putting more stress on their wings. It was excruciating.
“Fuck!” was the only thing either of them could say.
Arcade bolted deep into the brambles just shy of Ferns tattered wings. The thorns punctured them almost all the way through. God, that must've hurt so bad.
“Please… please get them out…” Fern whispered desperately.
“It’s going to hurt… Fern, you're going to have to trust me.”
One by one, needle by thorn, Fern’s wings were painfully freed. The rush of adrenaline finally left Arcade, and he was suddenly aware of how damaged he’d become. It was Fern’s turn to be worried.
“What the hell were you thinking?” they exploded, anger covering the fear and distress. “Look at you! You're all torn up, Arcade! Why did you have to rush to my aid?”
They cupped his face, pulling it to theirs, forcing him to make eye contact with them. They gasped as they looked at his face, smeared with blood and dirt, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Arcade buried his face in the crook of Fern’s neck, his body racking with heavy sobs.
“I was so worried. I'm so glad you're okay,” he choked out.
Fern’s racing heart slowed at the comforting arms of the other boy. They carefully rubbed his back as he cried, careful to avoid the fresh lacerations oozing with blood. The two teenage boys cried in each other's arms, no longer safely cradled in the boughs of a tree. It was safer on the ground anyway.