Oh, I got you, girl. Don’t even worry my clever, wonderful flying squirrel. May I present to you the fluffiest, fluff to ever fluff. (There are literal fluffy treats in this one, folks.) CS and Captain Cobra Swan!
[And anyone else who sent me prompts, I am still working my way slowly through them. Never be shy about sending them - I try to get to them eventually!]
a sweet treat
It wasn’t ideal, hiding out in the Maine wilderness and telling Henry it was camping. For one, it was evident to the young boy that he was being lied to - his knowing squint and accepting smile both heartbreaking and an absolute blessing. For another, the rain hadn’t let up for two days and the small, canvas tent was starting to close in on her. But then, at the moment, this was the only option - with a ransacked apartment and a warzone of a town - and the quietude of the tree cover and the give of the mossy earth provided a backdrop for hushed, nightly meetings to regroup and strategize.
It’s somewhere around mid-afternoon - or early evening, her watch had met an unfortunate end just a few days before - and she’s huddled with Henry and Hook in the space she and Henry have shared closely for the last day - their fifth location in as many days.
Crossed legs and ruffled sleeping bags, sacks and backpacks shoved in corners, and it should feel like a war barracks, but amidst the plunk of rainfall on the cloth and the humid, breathy air of the encampment, it’s feeling increasingly like home.