Extraordinarily Pleased

Lost in the Woods

Exhausted out of his mind, Fergus had crashed deep in the tall thickets of the sunflower fields the night of the jailbreak. Luckily, the morning came with no disturbances, save for a crow excavating any potential morsels from his ears. Ironically, it was the crow that would become a morsel for the ogre it made the mistake of scavenging from.

In the panic and delirium of the escape and the following fight, Fergus had no idea what direction he'd been heading in when he stopped for the night. Though, to be perfectly honest, he hadn't exactly known that part when he'd angrily set off, either - he had just claimed Felicia's initial direction, with no deeper motive. Not like she knew where she'd been headed, either. He didn't care what direction he went in, just as long as it wasn't the same as either sibling. And now he couldn't even ensure that .

The two weeks that had passed since that first day on his own had been some of the best in his recent memory. He could stop when he wanted, turn in for the night and rise in the morning when he wanted, examine the local flora and fauna for as long as he liked. It amazed him how fast time flew when he was allowed to just exist , without obligations or pressures or two exceedingly loud, opinionated, whining, mocking ogres in his ear.

Looking back, he really hadn't considered how he expected to survive six months with his siblings under foot. Maybe all of Felicia and Farkle's pigheadedness had actually resulted in a good thing.

Even though their parents still thought they were together.

Even though their mother would be upset to find out they'd separated.

Even though their father would be... upset that their mother would be upset.

Even though it'd be nice to go home for Christmas in - he fished his notebook from his sack flipped to his hastily scribbled calendar - two months, just about.

But... was Christmas an "ogre" thing to do?

He tried not to dwell on Felicia's rantings - something he was usually quite good at, but there was something that refused to dislodge from the back of his mind. Perhaps because Farkle actually agreed with her - the rarity of that was cause for concern alone.

Was it said in anger? Or is it what she'd thought of him all along? What both of them thought of him?

Well... so what if Christmas wasn't an ogre thing? Really, not caring whether something was ogre-like or not, was the true ogre thing to do.

Fergus would be home for Christmas. He couldn't control the others. And having to tell his parents why they weren't with him... would just have to be a concern for future Fergus to worry about.

They may decide to head back for Christmas themselves. There was a non-zero chance of that happening. As tough as Felicia liked to think herself to be, Fergus knew she actually did care, and quite a lot. And as swaggeringly aloof as Farkle seemed, he cared, too.

But Fergus wouldn't hold his breath.

Cutting through the cornfields was initially just the only direction left for Farkle to take that hadn't already been claimed by the others. That it offered him ample opportunity to replenish his food supply, was an added bonus. Farkle hadn't intended to keep walking all the way back through it, he'd just gotten distracted by collecting the best crops of someone else's hard farming work, and then eating said crops.

He zigged some days, zagged others, choosing a new direction to walk in with each rise of the sun. After two weeks, he found himself exiting a vast field of tall grass onto a path at the edge of a great pine forest, which itself was at the base of a snow-capped mountain range. His heart sank as he disappointingly knew exactly where he was.