The Forest

-15-

Ronnie had deliberately positioned himself at the back of the group so that he would be able to watch the little troublemakers. The last thing he needed was any of them thinking it would be a good idea to make a run for it. Not that he thought any of them had the heart to try it after the bollocking they had received. The lot of them looked like wilted leaves, droopy and sullen faces.

Truth be told, he felt bad for the kids. They trudged along in a miserable procession towards Bruon, heads hung, feet dragging through the snow. Not a single word had passed between them since leaving the threshold of the tribe. It was like Lyn and Azure's argument had depressed them into a state of permanent melancholy. That Ronnie understood; he wouldn't enjoy being on Azure's bad side... but of course, he also understood her anger.

Azure and Aspen's both. It was bloody mental what these kids had done, running around that human deathtrap, sneaking out in the dead of night— in the middle of a bleeding whiteout, no less... they were all totally off their rockers.
They're just kids, that's what it is. No concept of danger. Everything was still a game to them. And Ronnie supposed he had been like that at their age too. Always climbing up the sides of the cavern that hid the Hollow, determined to reach the moss at the top, only to fall down flat on his butt. Sometimes Azure had been nice enough to catch him. Aspen had too, occasionally, though most of the time he just sat back and laughed when Ronnie inevitably fell. Once, he had climbed a little too high and fallen without either of his friends there. A seriously broken ankle had been the result. Stuck in the barracks for two measly months, no expeditions until the next year. Bastard thing still hurt sometimes. That had taught him a lesson... a lesson these kids were maybe yet to learn.

You don't go looking for trouble.

He used to be a really stupid kid. Swearing at humans and climbing caverns... this lot were still stupid kids. They would learn when they got older that some things weren't a game, and that tempting fate was always, always a bad idea. If something bad could happen, nine times out of ten it would happen, no matter how safe or quiet the forest might seem. But... wasn't it true that a little part of him respected the four of them? Admired them, even? Ronnie was jotting this down to them having no concept of danger... but that was untrue. Lyn and Micah knew better than anyone their age that humans weren't creatures that could be taken lightly. The both of them had run into one particular oversized bastard not so many years ago. Alder and Fleur had been imprisoned by him for a short while too... so had Ronnie.
He still shuddered to think of Sam. The words uttered through glass walls, the brown eyes that were so lightless, unfathomable voids. Staring at him... only him, and he had thought he might lose his mind in that darkness.

It was branded into each of their heads, a feeling set deep in their bones from birth: be afraid of humans. Even Rosin Magnolia herself feared them. So it wasn't that the little blighters didn't have any idea that humans were seriously dangerous, they had just been ignoring it. To save her.

It was obvious, really. They love Rosin, that's what made them do it. The idea of humans hurting her upset them. It upset them so much that they had taken it upon themselves to go and bring her home. What they had done was stupid- reckless- it was a miracle that nobody had been hurt! But still, Ronnie had to admit that it took guts. They had really saved her skin too; One look at Rosin and it was clear to see she would have been in some serious trouble had she fallen so ill while still in the human's captivity. Gods knew what those things might have done with her rendered helpless...

Lyn and the others, though crazy, had done something good. And it didn't sit right with Ronnie to see them all looking so sad now.

"Hey," Ronnie began, "This ain't all bad, is it?"
Not a single one of them made an attempt to answer, and only Fleur looked over her shoulder to acknowledge that somebody had spoken. Her eyes were glassy.
He continued, "Don't look so down, guys. You get to miss your lessons, hey? That's good? No work, nobody bossing you around for a bit..."
A resounding, miserable silence. The boots crunching through snow sounded unusually loud in the forest's hush.
Ronnie decided it was perhaps better to drop the cheery front. The kids were sad and rightly so. They had take a bollocking from their parents and siblings and been sent away from their home— trying to cheer them up would be no good. Nothing but a waste of energy.