Julia, my dearest love, would you please tell me a story? Any story at all.
A/N: Hello! Dunno what this is, but I’m a bit fascinated with November where I live, so I came up with this and *shrugs*. Happy to tell you a story anytime you like friend <3
Some snippet of a CS adventure, at some undefined point in an undefined future.
“Do you think we’re cursed?”
It mustn’t rain much in this realm, Emma surmises. The trees seem a different green for it, their leaves more silver and sun-sorry than at home. And even though there is currently rain dropping from tree top, to tree top, to their heads, a tiny crescendo of noise, the ground is hardly wet. There are few puddles upon the bark-littered path, no great squelch and slip of earth, low lying flowers wilting a little. The rain is new here, the plants are still taking as much of it as they can get before it sinks out of reach.
All it really does is change the colour of the trees they go past, purple bodies turning bold shades of orange and green with each ripple of water that trickles to their roots. (Almost as though the rain is trying to hide the colour from them.)
“What makes you ask that, Swan?”
Emma pulls her slipping hood back over her head, grumbling as the rain means it both slips and sticks from her head and she contemplates leaving it off altogether.
“I just feel like we’ve been in this situation far too many times before. You, me, some sort of forest-”
Emma’s words are cut off by a sharp noise above them, a haunting cackle that jars every thought in her head. Killian stops his feet, glancing up into the canopy above them for the source of the noise. The ground beneath Emma’s footsteps snap, the bark that is stripping from the trees around them mostly terracotta in tone, but she only stops walking once she’s shoulder-to-shoulder with Killian and his great leather coat again.
He is still listening to the air as the mysterious cackling noise fades once more.
“Danger,” Emma finishes pointedly, head tilting in the direction of the laughter.