"Phil! I’m back!"
Wilbur shouts for his father, holding hands with his new lover. He had finally confessed to Quackity how much he loved him, and the feelings were reciprocated. To celebrate his change for future, his father had arranged a dinner party in a clearing in a nearby forest.
It was a hobby of Phil's. He enjoyed having outdoor parties and soirées of all sorts. They were usually family gatherings, but he invited his son’s partner this time. His wife used to enjoy them too, and even after her death, every family member could sense her presence at these events.
"Will! Tell your brother to stop trying to scare the crows. He’s bothering your mother."
"On it." He looks over at Quackity and lets go of his hand. "Go ahead and see if he wants any help. He’s old and probably needs it."
He nods, watching Wilbur disappear through the trees as he yells for Tommy. This leaves him alone with Phil, who’s setting the table. He’s nervous, considering he put the man on house arrest when he was trying to execute his best friend. Not only that, but he accused him of being the reason that Wilbur died. He didn’t have a good rapport with the man, if he was honest.
"So, you need any help?"
"Sure. You know how to set a table, right?"
"Yes, sir." He takes some plates and utensils, remembering how each item went. He was forced to set the table for gatherings in Manberg, with Schlatt staring at him to make sure he did it right.
He finishes the job and looks at Phil, who smiles approvingly, then tilts his head toward the direction Wilbur went. "Go help him find Tommy."
Quackity goes into the forest, calling out. "Wilbur? Tommy? Where are you guys?"
"Over here!" He darts through the trees to find Tommy and Wilbur looking at some crows. He’s surprised to find that they can talk.
"They’re really fucking stupid. They usually just say the number seven or the letter L over and over again, to the point where it sounds really weird. Happens when Phil isn’t around. Dad has to shut them up half the time." Tommy laughs, watching one do exactly as he said. Wilbur takes his index and thumb and presses the beak together. It quiets down, the annoying repetition ceasing.
"Why crows?" Quackity asks, petting one gently.
"Well, that’s what my mom liked. We called her the crow whisperer." Wilbur shrugs. "We should get back."
"Pog." A crow chimes in and talks, before being silenced by Tommy this time, who speaks as he quiets it. "Yeah, Dad’s waiting."
They step into the clearing again, finding lanterns hanging from trees and the table nicely set. The white of the table contrasted with the spruce trees that surrounded the snowy biome. Luckily, a large gazebo was built to protect the outside area from snow.
"Your sister is taking care of some stuff, so don’t worry. She promised she'll be here next time."
"Aw, she’s been bailing on us since she got revived! Why can’t she just come to one?"
"Tommy, I’m not sure you heard. But there is literally a war in our future." Wilbur huffs, sitting down next to Quackity.
"Doesn’t mean she can’t take time for us." Tommy sits across from Wilbur, next to his father. The food was brought out while they were in the woods, and Phil began to help himself as he made conversation.
"So, Quackity! I know we haven’t talked much, and when we did, those situations were less than ideal. But I want to hear about how you’re doing! Your country doing well?"
