Extraordinarily Pleased

The Perfect Place

"OW. Could you not use my head as a backboard? Is your aim not good enough?" Fergus stopped and spun around to his brother, who was lining up another free throw with a hefty head of cabbage.

"It's such a massive landmark Gus - I couldn't miss it if I tried." Farkle launched the cabbage out of his hands, sailing over the vegetable patch at their feet to land in the open knapsack strapped to Fergus's back.

"And Grimm knows you can't resist something big, Fark." Felicia shot as she walked up with an armful of produce that she unloaded into the knapsack.

Having the least full bag of the three, Fergus had been involuntarily elected to donate his extra space to carrying surplus food they would be collecting. So far, that had amounted to squash, cabbage, and onions.

They kept walking, the early autumn sun losing its heat paired with a light breeze signaling change. Duloc was a familiar enough place - they'd spent their earliest Halloweens in the abandoned castle, before the revitalization efforts returned the town to a lively and bustling destination, no longer under a diminutive, long-deceased despot. They had continued their Halloween tradition in the years that followed, to harmlessly terrorize unsuspecting villagers in pursuit of their candy.

Outside of Duloc being the setting of their parents' courtship story - so often told to the point they had memorized every word and vocal inflection of its delivery - it was little more than the municipality in which their home was located, without much thought given to it. They'd never even been there during the day; outside of a yearly Halloween outing, there was never a reason to go there. Until now.

It all started from an off-handed comment, a joke really, a year ago. The sixteen-year-olds had been sent out to gather herbs and roots for the night's dinner, and were taking their sweet time completing the task, as usual. The three had taken an extended rest break in the shade of the great trees on the outskirts of the swamp, and had been chatting about whatever came to mind.

"I wonder how long we could stay out before they'd come drag us back," Farkle said with a short amused exhale.

"As if Dad would be bent out of shape enough to do that," Felicia replied, "I think you mean 'before Mom would come drag us back.'"

"He'd mostly be mad at not getting his ingredients," Fergus offered. The other two scoffed in agreement.

"They'd have to get their own greens."

"Like when we were little."

"Like before we were even born!"

"Like they'd have to if we did Leaving Day!" Farkle looked aside as he chuckled at his own remark, as he took a bite of one of the few turnips he'd managed to gather for dinner. He looked back at the other two, to find they were looking intently at him. "Heh... what?"

"Have you guys... thought about Leaving Day too?" Felicia asked with a touch of apprehension, as if she was ready to downplay it if either brother answered in the negative.

"Oh! Uh, well– I mean not a lot–" Farkle replied.

"Enough to mention it as a joke," Fergus observed. "Cuz I mean... I have. A little bit."

"Yeah, a little bit. Not like, often," Farkle clarified.

"But you have thought of it," Felicia pressed.

"It sounds like we all have, Fel." Fergus looked at them, realizing they were all on the same page.

"Like okay. Hypothetically," Felicia rose to her feet, going into presentation mode, "if we were to perhaps do Leaving Day. What would you want to do? Anything! No matter how wild. Like for me: I'd like to have a stint on a pirate ship. That would be... amazing." A glint flashed across Felicia's eyes as she let herself revisit what was clearly a cherished fantasy. She turned her attention back to her brothers, expectantly.