Grouse Thicket if he said, 'help me kill the president'

If you want me to change any of this, I don't mind, lol.

Cool, she had said, and then began to lead Screech towards the Thicket where Raven had recruited her.  

So it's on the north-east side of the Plateau, she said as she led the way, the tip of her tail wagging as she spoke.  There are a bunch of birds and squirrels, but of course there are the apples, too.

She turned to look at @Screech, half-expecting him to do something fucking weird like dematerialize or something.  We're almost there.  They came upon the thicket and she weaved through the trees before they came upon the blooming orchard.  Isn't it nice?

This was probably the first time he'd been alone with a girl and not been in a shouting match (at least since his hang-out with Niamh had gone south), and certainly one of the rare times he'd left his precious plateau; the grove wasn't far from the border markers but it was definitely not part of the Redhawk's claim, and that was pretty cool. As Ceara led the way, she explained what to expect — but Screech assumed she was just talking because she was nervous or something, and that was kind of cute (???).

It's very different from the packlands, he noted while glancing around at the thickly growing array of trees. The forest seemed to swarm around them, and the more the two wolves hiked the thicker the foliage became; it was almost like they were shrinking and the reeds of the plateau had grown and grown, becoming these massive twisting trees with narrow paths.

Finally, as they came upon what Ceara deemed as the orchard, Screech wasn't sure what to look out for. There was a decidedly floral aroma to the air — and that was when he remembered what she'd said at the start of their trek, and began to look for patches of apple blossoms. Despite not knowing what to look for, they were soon so prolific throughout the grove that he didn't have to worry about it. Whatever trees weren't in bloom sported small bulbs (which were probably young apples), and the more he investigated the more astringent the scent in the air became until he was wrinkling his snout.

What is that -- ahrrm -- that smell? he didn't realize that the more ripe apples would've fallen off the trees and become rotten or anything, likely fermenting beneath their parent trees.

She was totally talking because she was nervous, but he didn't need to know that.  Yeah, it is.  I like it out here, though.  There was something about it that seemed clandestine and private which is part of what had drawn her in the first place.

She startled at his question.  What was that smell?  Last time she had come here, the apples had all been ripe, fertile.. now most of the ones on the ground were rotted.  Oh, yuck.  Looks like some of them have started to go bad, she said, feeling exceptionally lame.  She had wanted to show this dumb boy something cool and rotting apples were decidedly not.

If you can find some that haven't turned, they're pretty good, she mumbled.  Ceara nosed around until she found a good apple and batted it in the boy's direction.

Good apples or bad apples, he didn't really care what sort of fruit they'd find since he was mostly just trying to get away from the stupidity of the packlands and spend time with the pretty girl. The smell was a bit strong though and as much as he wanted to keep a straight face, Screech struggled somewhat. He thought she was going to apologize again (and might've said something if she had) when an apple came rolling at him from across the grass.

He stooped to inspect it, sniffing and rolling it around with little boops of his nose. He watched Ceara for a few seconds to make sure he wasn't screwing up, and then snapped at the apple. It was softer than he expected it to be; his teeth scored it with ease, and the pulpy fruit tasted sickly sour. It wasn't the worst thing he'd ever munched on — so he went in search of more, and soon had eaten a variety of the tiny tough apples as well as half-bruised larger ones, finding that he cared less and less about their quality the more he ate them.

They had finally lapsed into a comfortable (or awkward) silence, both of them content for the moment to munch on apples.  But where Screech was fine with the kind of almost rotten ones, Ceara preferred them just right.  She mingled in the orchard while he stuffed his face with the nasty ones, because who was she to judge what others put in thier bodies?  

They're good, neh?

It wasn't long before a certain affect began to characterize the boy's behavior. He felt himself relax as he wandered about and found new targets to munch on, and as he went he slowly stopped eating the entirety of each apple; soon some had a few nibbles, others had a couple tooth marks, but he appeared to be full. When he heard Ceara comment something, he paused and looked for her — but she was behind some of the apple trees, and that meant he had to find a way around. For some reason this seemed like a particularly complex problem. He swaggered over to the trees and managed to poke his nose - then his face - around them to glance at her. What was that? He questioned, and while his ears turned forwards he sort of smirked at her, feeling a little silly for no good reason at all.

She didn't realize the loosening of his gait, his speech.  She turned over her shoulder to look at him and chuckled at the silly way he was half-hiding between the trees.  I said, she began teasing, they're good, neh?  The firebrand pawed at one of the apples that was beneath her feet and swatted it in his direction so it might hit one of his paws or something.  

At least he liked them and didn't think this was both stupid and lame.  Or that she was stupid and lame.  She stuck her tongue out at him playfully, her tail a banner swaying behind her.

He chuffed softly, pleased as punch by everything that was unfolding. Screech didn't know why he was so happy but he was happy to be happy, you know? No, that made no sense — but she was talking again and his smirk became a smile, and then she stuck out her tongue and he laughed without thinking. He mimicked her expression and blew a messy raspberry at her, forgetting about the apple that she had rolled in his direction until he had the bright idea to get closer to her — some basic sense that he wanted to be closer made him slip along — but being an idiot, he tripped on the apple and felt his ankle roll, which sent him on a ridiculous pratfall towards Ceara. He bumbled a bit and ended up colliding with a tree, but not too hard —at least not hard enough for him to notice — and in the next instant, he was giggling to himself because hell he was so funny!

He was somehow becoming looser, easier to deal with; he seemed carefree, lighthearted.  Her stomach began to bubble as they started to blow raspberries at each other and then her gut wrenched as she helplessly watched him roll his ankle. Shit!  That was going to hurt tomorrow.  It should hurt now.

Hey, she began gently, moving herself alongside him so that he may rest his weight upon her, Take it easy.  She didn't quite know what was going on but she understood the gist — homeboy's mental state was impaired and it would be her job to make sure he stayed safe.  However long it took.

Unfortunately for Screech, this would be one of the few good memories he'd have in life; and certainly the last he'd have for a while. He felt his skin positively buzzing with strange giddiness, and as light-headed as he felt, he didn't feel bad about it. Feeling good was such a foreign concept to the suffering boy that this ordeal — the apples, the nice girl, the laughter and even her show of concern — rooted itself deep. He needed this. He needed a friend, he needed fun, but most of all he needed to fucking relax.

As the girl came closer, he just sort of... Canted his head towards her and, looking dopey (kind of like his avatar) fixed a silly half-smile on his face. I'm hokay, he lightly slurred. This wassa good idea! Lets do this more often, and then he was trying to stand up (mostly to get closer to her, but he just... couldn't... make his feet go where he wanted,) and suddenly Screech was slouching again, letting out another rough-sounding mess of deep giggles.

This was kind of going like that 'this is fine' meme.  WhyYyYyYyYy did everyone seem absolutely intent on becoming fucking crazy or incapacitated in her company?  Even if this one was kind of cute!  Agh!

Noooooo you're not, big boy.  She said it with a good-natured but slightly panicked laugh, because, again, AHHHHHH.  She ducked herself under him the best she could manage to keep him from toppling over all the way, and even if she had to carry himm somewhere safe (and away from where someone could stumble upon them, oh god) she'd make sure he was taken care of.  Nope, no way she was leaving him until he was fine again.

Maybe.  For now um, let's just.. go somewhere a little farther away.  Yeah.  Good idea.

She was suddenly very, very close. This was super duper okay (more than okay), but he was insistent that he could walk fine and would tell her exactly that - as soon as he could focus enough to make his words work. This had never happened before (really!); it probably happened to a lot of guys! At least his legs were working? Sort of? Mostly? But as he got up and began to walk, he realized that he was leaning a bit too much against Ceara and she was supporting him almost entirely. What a jerk! That wasn't very nice of him.

Her comment made him snort though, and he blurted: You wanna get me somewhere alone? Pffffffttt! Oh, how risque!

It  c o m p l e t e l y  went over Screech's head that they'd been alone, but together, for at least a couple hours now.

Her stomach did somersaults!  She was trying to heave this entire boy's body weight and she had to deal with him flirting too!  AHHHHH.  Um, we are alone.  It was supposed to be joking but it probably sounded panicked.  I just like, don't want anyone to find us like this.  Wait, no, that was probably WORSE

Are you sure you're okay?  whymewhymewhymewhyme

She began to heave him slowly away from all the apples so he couldn't sneak any more (if he was even... capable, cognitively-speaking), but he was dead weight at best and flopping around at his worst.

He couldn't help but snort at her concern. I haven't felt very good in a while an' you make me feel good, or uh, the apples? Do? Maybe? Im good though, rambled the boy as he became accustomed to his new method of travel; a few feet with her support, a few without, this was working really well! He tilted his face towards her and, while sort of smooshing his cheek against her shoulder, said, I'msorry, I am not usu - usu - uh, typically like this. a mess? Sure. Drunk? Never.

Oh, she said quietly.  She wondered what kind of life he led here, what made him unusually happy.  She wasn't quite sure it was her and not the apples that made him feel good, but.. she'd like to think it was her, just because it'd make her ego swell a little bit.  Probably.  That's the only reason why.  Good, I'm glad.

She tried to ignore the way her heart leapt to her throat when he swayed against her.  Turns out it was pretty easy, because his swaying motion sent her toppling over.  She stumbled over her own feet, the ground, whatever and next thing she knew he was on top of her.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

um she said even quieter, dizzy and kind of panicked, help?  but she didn't know if he could even move.

There was a sudden shuffle, like her limbs were going out from under her and that meant his limbs were no longer supported so great; it was like they were dancing an awkward side-step, and before he knew it they were both down (falling was so much fun!) — and Screech was uncomfortably pinning her down. Oh, oops.

Why did he always end up on top of girls?

You're not supposed to be there, he commented, almost saying the first thought that came to mind (see above), but instead slurring something similar. He took a deep breath (sorry Fire for the crushing) and tried to lift himself up or roll or something to make her feel better, and managed to stand for a few seconds before fwump! he just kinda, hit the dirt.

There!! Betterrrr.

Oh, thank god, he moved.  Because not only was it embarrassing, he was also kind of crushing her??? And it made her burn and tingle and her head was fuzzy, and she didn't know if it was from the lack of oxygen or because this very drunk boy was suddenly on top of her.

Nope, she wasn't moving him from here.  She curled up next to him in the dirt instead, praying that nobody from the Redhawk clan showed up.

Maybe, um, you should take a nap.  You'll feel better when you wake up.  I'll be.. right here.

He liked the idea of a nap. Yeah, that sounded great. He didn't take nearly enough naps. Everything was such a good idea right now, especially when she said it — oh! She was warm. They were together, cuddled up in an almost-neat pile, and he felt so safe and so happy and so good; not knowing when he'd get another chance to spend time with a pretty girl (or to sleep with one like this) made him a bit self-reflective but, that didn't last long. He kind of murmured something as he hunkered in to the dirt for his nap, but by the time she could've heard the mumble he'd already plopped his head down, and the spinning soon slowed down for him, because he was asleep.

Sleep was nice. He could sleep for days, here.