“I didn’t say anything!”
“Don’t care. Shut up.”
A fun dialogue prompt for Jacob. And, honestly, who else would he have this conversation with but Bowman Leafwing?
Jacob pursed his lips in an effort to school his expression. He’d definitely heard the sound of Bowman’s landing, though he hadn’t expected it at all. He tread carefully on grassy patches and whatever stones he could find until he could catch up, and then he squatted down so he could see.
Bowman sat up and lifted his arms and wings out of the mud he’d careened right into. Globs of soaked earth dropped from the limbs with tiny plops and Jacob bit determinedly on his lower lip. It wouldn’t do any good to laugh now.
Even covered head to toe in mud, it was very easy to tell when Bowman was about to boil over.
Wild, dark green hair matted down to his head and Bowman’s eyes shone especially bright in contrast with the mud dripping onto his face. Jacob could hardly even see his lower half stuck in the mud puddle.
Bowman whipped his gaze upward. “Shut up!”
“I didn’t say anything!” Jacob insisted, his voice shaking with laughter he refused to let out.
“Don’t care. Shut up.” Bowman’s word was final, though even Jacob could pinpoint the embarrassment in his voice.
“What even happened?” Jacob asked, his voice gentler than before. He hesitated to pick Bowman up and help him out of the mud until he got permission. With the tiny sprite’s pride, one couldn’t be too careful.
Bowman grumbled to himself and tried to brush more globs of mud off his arms. His wings were coated and heavy with the stuff. “Flew through a spiderweb,” he mumbled.
Jacob’s eyebrows shot up and he was caught somewhere between amused and concerned. “You’re not gonna get bit, are you? Got any passengers?”
Bowman shook his head and some drops of muddy water flew away from his hair. “I don’t think the spider was in the center. She’s probably upset that I took her net down, though.”
Jacob sighed and a low, quiet roll of thunder rumbled overhead. As if claiming its own innocence in the whole ordeal. The rain pattered lightly against the canopy above, but only a few drops here and there fell on him so far. Bowman had happened to land in the path of the small storm’s runoff.
“How about I get you to the stream?” Jacob offered, holding out a hand towards his small friend. The fall had been amusing, but poor Bowman’s wings were drooping and it was kind of pathetic.
Bowman shot him another glare. “Fine. But not a word to anyone else, do you hear me?”
Jacob shook his head. “Not a single one. Promise.”
Bowman nodded sharply in approval, and then leaned towards Jacob’s hand. His own tiny hands left smears of mud on Jacob’s fingers as he scrambled for purchase, and when he finally managed it he had to tug himself out of the mud as it tried to keep him. As soon as he could, Jacob curled his fingers up under Bowman’s middle to help tug his legs free.
Bowman crawled to Jacob’s palm, wings dragging and his clothes sopping wet.
“What would you do without me?” Jacob asked, lifting Bowman up and nudging him with his thumb. Bowman swatted at it and glared, so he was probably alright.
“I’d die of shame,” the sprite answered ruefully. “Just get me to the stream before I decide to throw mud in your hair.”