𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗗 | 𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 | 𝗗𝗦𝗮𝗙 𝗙𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘆 𝗔𝗨

|Chapter 4: Fortunate Coincidences|

Dave was walking through the damp forest with a deep frown; every now and again, he could hear the crackling of twigs breaking behind him.

Letting out a sigh, he continued walking. He was well aware that he was being followed, as the fairies had decided it would be quicker to go afoot instead of using their fragile wings. Dave rolled his eyes, the crunching of leaves and twigs seemingly echoing through the murky forest. Hopefully they would abandon their attempts and leave him alone soon. A loud crack caused Dave to pause, turning his head around to look behind him.

The fairies stumbled out of the bushes, Charles grabbing a fistful of Vincent' hair. "Charles, let go, you horrible tree trunk!" cried Vincent, pushing against the others torso in an attempt to get him off. The noises of the two arguing seemed to echo around the woods quickly, the wet trees around the trio rustling. Dave frowned at the two, crossing his arms. Watching as the two argued back and forth, Dave shook his head. Looking back up at them, the Elf cleared his throat. "Are you two done yet?" he questioned, staring at the two. Charles and Vincent paused, turning to Dave before looking at each other. They nodded, letting go of each other and standing up straight. The purple Elf grinned at them. "Good! Now let's work on why the hell you two are following me, eh?" His grin dropped into a low frown, his eyes switching between the two in-front of him. Charles and Vincent looked at each-other silently. "Well, we just wanted to ask you questions," chimed Vincent. Dave scowled at him. "I-I mean, Charles was the one who wanted to ask you questions!" Vincent remarked, shuffling sideways to stand behind his brother with a worried glance. Didn't know Fairies were so... stubborn yet worrisome. Dave switched his gaze to Charles, who was staring at him. "..Well, go on, tell me your oh-so important questions then." He muttered loudly, growing impatient.

The two brothers continued to stare at him in silence, the forest around them making faint rustling noises as the wind scattered the leaves. Dave sighed, ruffling his hair. "If you can't say anything, I might as well be on my way." Turning, he began retreating into the trees at a steady pace. These Fairies, I swear. Stumbling slightly in a small dip covered by a cluster of leaves, he grasped onto a maple tree. Behind him, he could hear the brothers whispering loudly, seemingly arguing. Dave rolled his eyes, leaning against the tree. Exhaling loudly, he frowned. Turning his head, he glanced around the trunk at the clearing. The brothers were still there, glaring at each other with confusion and disappointment in their eyes. Turning back round, he shook his head before pushing himself off the tree.

Trailing through the woods, Dave's ears perked at the slightest of sounds. Bird song laced through the trees, mixed with the crunching and snapping of twigs and leaves. The small bag tied around his waist made a small clanking noise every now and again, presumably caused by the compass.

The purple Elf let out a long groan, his head aching. He hadn't slept the night before after hearing leaves rustle around him.

Treading through the forest, Dave lifted one of his hands to his head, attempting to recall the map he had been given by his father at a young age. If he could remember correctly, the Hobbit village Spir should be slightly further west. Opening his eyes, Dave lowered his hand to take hold of the satchel around his waist; taking out the compass, he looked up, making sure he was still heading in the right direction. After reassuring himself that he was indeed heading west, Dave shoved the compass back into the satchel before continuing.

He had been walking at a quick pace, cautious of the fading daylight, in hopes of reaching the river he was hearing. Breaking through a cluster of bushes and ferns, Dave finally stumbled across the water. It was thin stream of shallow water twisting between rocks and trees. The sky was overcast, making the little clearing of the stream seem vaguely shallow and deserted.