It has been a full moon cycle, it now rests as the first day of a waxing gibbous. During the passing days, you found yourself out drinking the gnomes and fairies at the gnome tavern, urging the manotaur to do ridiculous stunts, hanging out with geodites-- listening to their hums and pitched chirps, and just overall being a nuisance to the other forest creatures for your human-free weeks.
You now find yourself reorganizing your home, moving your trinkets on self-made shelves, shifting the pelts you traded for from the manotaur to a different corner of the large trunk, and finding yourself folding your clean clothes into a neat pile. Your food sits in leftover glass jars you found in the junkyard eons ago, berries and herbs lining the glasses. You think about opening one and indulging yourself but another thought stops you, a constant reoccurring one. That of the mystery man. Hell, part of the reason you were reorganizing was to keep your hands busy while you got lost in thought. His glimmering eyes when he caught sight of you, filled with curiosity and awe, made you flustered and antsy making you have to do something with your hands. But if you had to be honest with yourself, you wanted him to look at you like that again.
Pushing that thought to the back of your mind, you take a jar and start fiddling with the lid, pushing the seal down and letting it pop itself back up again. You need to think about what to do today, you're bored, and staying home isn't an interesting answer. Your mind wraps around the ideas that pop into your head. You could go cave delving, chase some barf fairies around, or play the pan-flute to pass the time. Not satisfied with any of these ideas, you head outside to breathe in some fresh air, hoping that'll help with the process. Butterflies fly across your face as you stretch up from crawling through the dense bush. You do some stretches, pushing your legs away from your body, reaching your arms above your head in an ill attempt to touch the sky. Your mind begins to wander again. That man seemed to occupy your thoughts these days. You can't help but wonder. What he does inside that cabin, what exactly he's doing here, why he seemed familiar to the strange and unnatural, how his hair is that fluffy, what the feeling of said hair between your fingers would be like... You shake your head, ridding the thought that just occurred. You haven't even spoken to this man yet and your head has been going wild. You have observed him though... geeking out at unique mushrooms, studying the rare and unknown with a twinkle in his eye, the strong arms of when he fixed something outside, or when you walked into him arm wrestling. That last one is a mouth-watering memory. You're doing it again. You know you're infatuated with the idea of him, but you can't stop yourself.
In Lou of him occupying your thoughts, you decide today would be best spent watching the mystery man. Or at least snooping around his place to try and gather more information about him since your people-free weeks have run out. Maybe some junk mail with his name is in the trash and you can finally put a name to a face. The thought brings an air of excitement to you as you begin to grin. Heading west, you decide to take the scenic route to his place, the path already set in your mind.
Passing by a creek, the smell of damp soil and moss tickles your nose. Tall grass and reeds encircle the creek, holding ladybugs and grasshoppers as they sway in the wind. Walking through, the brook feels cool against your hooves and fur, wicking away any dust or dirt that clung to them. Flowers and moss hug the towering pines that pass you, the foliage rustles and trembles causing a serenade with the occasional woodpecker pecking on wood. The sun hits you in spurts as the leaves and needles of the trees absorb the rest of the sunlight in their path.
The sight of the cabin slowly inches into sight, the telltale sight of the antenna -- red light blinking, coming up clearly. Before you fully make it to the clearing the sight of a rope in the corner of your eye grabs your attention.
"This wasn't here before." You walk to the rope with a careful step. You notice the rope with a bell wraps and ties around a strong-looking sapling, causing it to bend. Looking down you see the rope tied to a wooden hook, connected to an identical one sticking out of the ground. Attached to the same hook as before, a different rope is tied like a noose at the ground. Within are three carrots in a pile, right at the center. You're not dumb, you've seen these types of traps before. Hell, you've had to naw yourself out of one before. You lean down and inspect the carrots. They seem like they've been out for at least a day, still orange and crunchy looking though. You have to admit, you haven't had carrots in a while. It's either they're too small from foraging them in the woods or they're from the trash and therefore wrinkly and a tad spoiled. Yep, you've decided. You're going to eat these.
You rise from the ground and hold your chin in thought. The bell will go off as soon as you set it, so bets are he'll hear it and come running. So if you want to do anything, better do it before you set it off. You look to the cabin again, eyes raking the yard. The trash can gleams in the sunlight, just wanting to be pillaged. You walk around the trap, by walking in front of it you know which direction it's located, and start heading to the house. Short-cut grass ruffles under your step as you approach the can. As you reach it, you quickly gaze into the nearby door, looking for any type of movement or light. After a moment of stilled silence, you gingerly remove the lid and place it leaning against the garbage can. The bag within is knotted, so you expertly unknot it with the grace of a raccoon. Peaking inside you can't help but be discouraged at the lack of mail. The only thing inside is crumpled-up papers about math and scribbled-out dreams, food waste, and of course pencil shavings. Having no luck with the garbage, you tie it back up and replace the lid. Turning 180 degrees, you start to head back to the trap. While walking you think about if it was a trap meant for you. You're face morphs into one of offense. Did he really think you were that dumb? Well, to be honest, he knows nothing about you, let alone how smart you are so you can't truly blame him.
Near the trap, you look around, finding a decently sized stick. You move on back over to the trap and kneel in front of it. Carefully, you remove the three carrots, making sure they don't snag on the rope. After that step is the most thrilling, you move into a running stance and take the stick into your empty hand. You drag the stick under the noose and pull in the opposite direction, causing it to snap back and launch the stick into the air, the sound of a bell sounding. As soon as the bell chimed you notice movement in one of the cabin windows, rushing to the door. You sprint off into the woods, laughing while grinning ear to ear. You can hear the sound of feet hitting the ground, rushing to the trap. You look back to see the silhouette of the man staring at the trap, but you don't stop moving. Not until you reach the creek.
///
You laugh to yourself. Springing traps always made you feel elated, the snap that the rope gives, the thought of the hunter's face when they see they've been had, all of it. The snacks do help too. The safety of the creek washes over you, the babbling brook overtaking your ears. A peaceful sigh escapes your lips as you gaze up at the sky, slowly bringing a carrot to your mouth. While crunching you look around and focus your gaze on the direction of the town. Days went past of them not being terrorized by you. Already making up your mind, you decide to head on over, wanting to check out what new toys you'll be able to find in the junkyard. And maybe you'll find a new dress for your wardrobe.
YOU ARE READING
From the Start (Stanford x Reader)
FanfictionY/N, a Satyr of Gravity Falls, comes across a young Stanford Pines during his studies and gets curious. He, in turn, gets curious about you. (This happens at the beginning of his studies in Gravity Falls, so no contact with Bill yet.)
