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Smitten walked down one of the paths, an eye half-open to glance at his surroundings. He held a stick in his right hand, one end dragging through the dirt to leave a trail to follow back. He’d been asked to explore today, wandering in the woods to see if he could find anything of use. The various cabins found at the ends of splitting paths were, after all, the origins of most of their resources.
Exploring was… fine, he supposed, as dangerous as it could be. The real chore was watching over Cold and Contrarian. The two volunteered to follow the paths most often, so it eventually became a given that wandering and finding resources was their shared job. However, none in the flock trusted them to not get hurt or lost, so someone else needed to accompany them.
Today, that someone was Smitten.
Without slowing his pace, he glanced back at his companions. Contrarian had decided to try doing cartwheels for the duration of their walk, and Cold occasionally pushed him to help keep him steady.
Cold noticed Smitten inspecting them and hummed behind his thick scarf, “Worried we’ll vanish? There’s a reason we go to explore so often. We’re fine.”
“And there’s a reason you two are always accompanied by someone else.”
Contrarian snickered at Smitten’s retort, stopping his cartwheeling just long enough for him to lose his momentum fall onto Cold.
Smitten stops walking and moves to help them up. Contrarian exaggeratedly shakes himself off before – also exaggeratedly – slouching in disappointment.
“I almost made it, too!” He pouts, before a wide grin overtakes his features again, “I bet I can do… backflips all the way back home!”
“Really?” Cold asks, ever one to egg on Contrarian, “I bet you can’t.”
Smitten internally sighs before turning and continuing down the path. He hears the others walk after him, still talking to each other.
He glances up at the trees and frowns in concern. The leaves have been changing colour and falling to the ground, and fruit and wildlife have become rarer. Broken and Hunted insist that it’s natural, that the changes are called ‘seasons’, and the plants and animals will come back in time. Still, most of them continue to worry. They had never seen anything like in the Construct.
Smitten is pulled out of his thoughts as a clearing, then a cabin, comes into view. It looks that same as usual, the contents hidden until the door is opened. Smitten stabs the stick deep into the earth, leaving it there to mark the location as ‘visited’.
He starts to turn to his companions, but Contrarian, pulling Cold along, runs up to the cabin excitedly. Smitten follows after them, unwilling to let them out of his sight.
The interior of the cabin— Ugh, no. Smitten cuts off that train of thought. He shuts his eyes before opening one again, scanning the cabin for anything dangerous.
It’s… cozy. The windows — He never described the windows, did He? — let in only the softest light. The carpet was plush and comfortable under his feet. There were a few bookshelves stuffed with books — Skeptic will enjoy those — and the table had a simple cloth on it, that cursed knife resting on it, reflecting the daylight filtering through the windows.
Contrarian wastes no time in grabbing the dagger, but Cold stops him before he can throw it out the window. Contrarian gives him a questioning look, which Cold responds to with a blank stare. After a moment, Contrarian shrugs, moving aside the tablecloth to stab the blade deep into the wooden table.
Smitten watched the interaction with confusion. It was normal for Contrarian to toss out the knife upon finding a new cabin, but Cold never stopped him before. If he wanted to keep a weapon handy, he would have stopped Contrarian from burying the blade into the table. Does he like the windows?
Smitten’s thoughts are interrupted as Cold opens the door to the basement, gesturing for him and Contrarian to follow.
The stairs — Smitten consciously keeps the description bare — are also carpeted.
The basement is decidedly safe. An empty chain on the far wall, a window just above it. More carpets, more bookshelves. Where the Princess would sit is a blanket nest, soft pillows both within it and scattered about the room. There is also food and a decently stocked kitchen. That last part is certainly rare, as the only other cabin they’ve seen with a kitchen is their own home.
Cold hums softly, an interested spark in his eyes as he and Contrarian look around. Smitten glances through a handful of the books, covers and pages worn with time and overuse. This place felt lived in, like this was truly the Princess’s home at some point.
Smitten is in the middle of checking the blankets for bugs when he hears Contrarian behind him, “Ohohoho! What’s in here?”
Smitten and Cold both turn and see Contrarian holding a decently-sized box, grinning at the faded colours.
They approach just as Contrarian begins to open the lid, watching as he grabs a small white packet out of the box. He turns it about before handing it to Cold, who squints at the red text on one side.
“‘Pour delicious hot cocoa mix into mug. Pour hot water into mug. Stir and enjoy.’” Cold deadpans as he reads the text. Contrarian snatches the packet back when Cold is done reading, having already placed the box back on the floor.
“Instructions?” Smitten asks, “For what? What are we… ‘enjoying’?”
Cold shrugs at the same moment they hear Contrarian start to choke on something.
They whip around and see Contrarian, one hand over his mouth and the other holding the now-opened packet. He coughs for a few more seconds before grinning, “It’s edible! And very sweet.”
“Really?” Cold leans in, eyeing the packet with interest. “How sweet? Like cherries?”
“Sweeter! Try some!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Smitten interrupts, “We don’t know if this is safe to consume!”
Cold shrugs, “Contrarian’s still standing, so it must be fine. Besides, what poisons could possibly be sweet?”
“Plenty of poisons are sweet— No, that’s not the point! We don’t know how long it’s been sitting here.”
“But look inside!” Contrarian chimes in, tilting the packet to give Smitten a better look at its contents, “It’s just powder! In a sealed container! I don’t think it’s just something that goes bad.”
“Exactly,” Cold agrees easily, dipping a finger in to get some of the powder inside. He adjusts his scarf with his other hand before tasting the rich powder, closing his eyes in contemplation.
“Well?” Contrarian pries, staring at Cold’s face for any trace of an expression.
Cold opens his eyes, staring into space for a moment, before, “This is… very sweet.”
“And?”
“It’s… good.”
Contrarian leans into Cold’s space as he grins wider, “And?”
“And… Smitten should try it.”
“What?” Smitten stares at Cold, wondering if he’s joking.
“Ohoho! Yeah, you should try it!” Contrarian’s grin turns almost sly as he leans in, “After all, you are one of the main cooks in the flock. Maybe you’ll know what this stuff is!”
Contrarian hands the packet over to Smitten, who is torn. If the stuff in the packet is actually dangerous, it would be better for him to not have any and instead take them back home. Plus, Smitten’s never been a big fan of sweets, despite holding much of the knowledge regarding the baking of pastries and deserts. Cold got the rest of that information, so if Cold doesn’t know what’s in the packet, maybe Smitten will?
Hesitantly, Smitten sniffs the opening of the packet. It’s… familiar, the same way that stuck information is when they find something new. He knows what the powder is, or he will know soon enough, the name just on the tip of his tongue…
He tastes it, trying to ignore how his companions lean in expectantly. The taste is just as, if not more, familiar than the scent, images and ideas and histories coming with the flavour…
“Chocolate!” Smitten gasps, eyes widening. Chocolate in the form of a powder isn’t something his mind presented to him, but the taste is near identical to the candies and treats now in the forefront of his consciousness.
He looks back at the text on the packet, mind racing. What will it make when hot water is added? Would the others like it? If so, could he add it to the cooking rotation? Should he?
“Chocolate?” Contrarian asks, glancing back down at the packet.
Cold’s eyes widen in sudden recognition, a rare glance into his thoughts, before, “Of course. It’s instant hot chocolate. That’s why I didn’t know what it was – hot chocolate is a drink.”
“Really?” Contrarian asks, looking back at the box on the floor.
“Instant?” Smitten asks at the same time. In his experience – and in the rest of the flock’s, really – instant food wasn’t always the best.
Cold nods, expression now more relaxed and neutral, glancing at the kitchen nearby. He grabs another packet from the box before walking into the attached room, likely to make the instant hot chocolate. Contrarian and Smitten follow, but the kitchen isn’t big enough to fit all of them, so they stare at Cold on the other side of the threshold as he wanders around, looking for a kettle.
After several minutes, all the cabinets have been opened, but there is no kettle. Cold simply walks out of the kitchen and says, “Let’s take the box back to the house, then we can have some hot chocolate.”
Contrarian nods and picks up the box, allowing Cold to drop his packet back in before moving towards the stairs again.
Smitten internally sighs at their impatience, scanning the selection of books nearby before randomly grabbing a few for Skeptic. He follows his companions back up the stairs and out of the cabin, half-listening to Contrarian asking Cold questions about what hot chocolate is and how it tastes compared to the powdered form.
They pause at the edge of the clearing, near the stick that Smitten drove into the ground earlier. Smitten hands the books to Cold and pulls a bundle of different-coloured fabrics out of his pocket, picking out the blue one. He ties it to the stick, labeling the cabin as ‘safe with plentiful resources’. He puts the fabrics back into his pocket and takes the books back from Cold, and the trio start their walk home.
Smitten finds himself looking back up at the trees with half an eye as he listens to Cold explain how homemade hot chocolate would be made, how it would taste. The leaves are still changing colours, still falling. What happens when all of them fall to the ground? Will the forests die? Will new leaves grow in the place of their fallen brethren? But then he blinks, and considers the leaves in a new light. Watching how the yellows and oranges and reds refract the sunlight, like – stained glasstapestries – art. Like art. It’s beautiful, even as Smitten swallows dryly and attempts to focus his attention back on his companions. They’re still talking about hot chocolate.
Eventually, the three of them are home, Contrarian excitedly throwing the front door open and announcing, “We found some stuff!”
Skeptic and Paranoid are the only ones in the living room, and they both look up. Paranoid looks relieved to see them safe, and Skeptic visibly lights up at the sight of the books Smitten is carrying.
“What did you find?” Paranoid eyes the box in Contrarian’s hands.
“You’ll see,” Contrarian half-purrs, taking the box to the kitchen. The others follow him, and Smitten hands the books over to Skeptic as they walk. Skeptic’s eyes dance with delight as he looks over the faded covers, and Smitten is glad that he remembered to grab them before they left the cabin.
Once they reach the kitchen, Contrarian drops the box on the counter as Cold grabs the kettle, filling it with water.
“What are you doing?” Paranoid asks, leaning against the counter as he watches Cold place the kettle on the stove, turning it on.
“You’ll see,” Contrarian repeats, grinning as he takes a white packet out of the box.
“It’s food,” Cold explains, waiting for the water to boil, “Something sweet. I think you will like it.”
“Because it’s sweet?” Paranoid glances over at Cold, eyebrow raised.
“Because it’s comfort food. A comfort drink, really.”
Contrarian nods, handing the packet to Paranoid to let him look at it. Skeptic reads the text over his shoulder, and Paranoid tilts it to let Skeptic get a better look at it.
“How many does it serve?” Skeptic asks.
“One per packet,” Cold states, leaving Smitten to wonder how he knows that. The packets never specified how many they served, at least not that Smitten noticed.
Paranoid must be thinking something similar, because he asks, “How do you know?”
“The same way you know how much electricity the brain consumes in an hour. Which is…?”
“When awake? About 20 watts.”
“Exactly. Some of us just know certain things.”
Paranoid rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue further.
It takes a few more minutes, but eventually the kettle starts screaming and Cold takes it off the heat. Contrarian takes the packet back from Cold and grabs a mug, pouring the rich powder into the cup before presenting it to Cold with a flourish.
Cold pours the hot water into the mug, taking a spoon out of a drawer and stirring until the powder has fully dissolved. He adjusts his scarf again, blowing on the drink before taking a careful sip.
“Well?” Contrarian prods.
Cold closes his eyes for a moment, before, “It’s good. Here,” he hands the mug over to Contrarian, who grins before also sipping it.
Contrarian’s eyes widen slightly, before he starts all but chugging the rest of the drink. When it’s gone, he looks back at Cold, “Good is an understatement! This is even better than I thought it would be!”
Cold doesn’t respond, but for once his scarf doesn’t fully obscure a hint of a smile. He grabs another three cups and fills them up with the hot chocolate, giving them to Smitten, Skeptic, and Paranoid.
They sip the warm drinks. Something in Smitten’s chest aches at the taste, so he tries to focus on the others’ reactions. Skeptic is drinking with his eyes closed, not quite downing it like Contrarian did, but not drinking slowly, either. Paranoid’s eyes are still open, glancing around as he takes careful sips.
Skeptic is done first, and he nods to Cold once he’s fully contemplated the flavour, “The others will like this, I’m sure.”
Paranoid thinks for a moment before humming in agreement, still drinking the hot chocolate.
“How many are there?” Skeptic glances at the box.
“This one has a few dozen packets, and there were other boxes in the cabin that we found them in.” Cold explains, looking at Contrarian, who nods in confirmation.
“What happens when we run out?” Paranoid asks, having finished his drink. “The others might get upset when they go to make more and there’s none left.”
“I remember the recipe, the actual one. When we run out, if we have the ingredients, I can make more.”
Smitten looks down at his half-finished drink, no longer steaming. It’s… comforting, the taste, the warmth.
Suddenly, he raises his mug in toast, “To new discoveries!”
The others smile and toast with empty cups.