Chapter Text
The World was a sad cruel place. Branch thought as the latest in a series of disasters took yet another caretaker from him. From them he reminded himself, as the other kids gasped in disbelief.
The plant swallowed Gritty whole, their orange hair vanishing between sharp teeth as the scream suddenly cut off.
Lesson one, everything wants to eat you. Branch hadn’t realised that also meant the plants. He cursed himself silently that he hadn’t suspected the plants.
His hand reached out to Creek, the movement silent and hidden, the other troll risking a slight tilt of his head before gasping Branch’s hand in his.
Branch nodded slightly to the younger trolls, frozen in shock and fear.
Their group was small, so small. The adult trolls were very aware of the risk of children, so Poppy was the youngest, the last born before their escape.
Silent tears ran down her face as the colour drained out of her. She hadn’t seen the others die, hadn’t understood what it meant that they were gone.
Branch couldn’t help but regret that he hadn’t been able to shield her, he hadn’t been able to protect any of them.
Creek’s bright green hair had flickered to grey first, his warm purple becoming shadowy when they watched Sizzler snatched up by a bird.
Creek had fought it, and he had been able to be his normal colours in front of the adults. Branch didn’t know how his friend had managed that.
Fardirge had stepped in the wrong place. A hole had opened up beneath him. Massive white teeth. Guy Diamond had lost his sparkle. Biggie hadn’t spoken since.
And now Poppy’s Pink was gone. Branch’s heart broke as the last of his hope fled.
Branch ran down their options, he was the oldest, he was in charge now. Their hiding place wasn’t safe, the plant might get hungry again! The adults were gone, looking for food and a safe place to rest.
They had to move.
Branch didn’t let go of Creek’s hand as he scooped up the Princess, she was so tiny as she clung to his shirt, soaking the material in silent tears.
That seemed to signal to Biggie and Guy Diamond that they could move, Biggie wrapping himself around Branch’s back and Guy Diamond squeezing between Branch and Creek to huddle between them.
They cried silently as Branch tried not to freeze again. He wasn’t used to being in the centre of a hug, even a sad hug like this.
Branch took a steadying breath, they were Grey, but Creek had already proved they didn’t have to stay grey. He could do this. Safe place, food. They had to move.
He took one final look at the plant, memorising its shape and markings, fixing the grave marker in his mind. Fardirge had been kind to the others, even if he hadn’t wanted to touch Branch.
His black hair looked weird against the dull white of Guy Diamond’s, and Branch tried to ignore the brittleness. It was a bad sign, but so was going Grey in the first place. They were alive, that was important. It looked better with Branch’s black threaded through the white, almost interesting.
Branch reached behind to do the same to Biggie, expecting some resistance from the too short hair, but the bigger troll reached back easily, his tight grip on Branch loosening slightly.
Creek slipped into the braid with his usual sly subtlety, supporting Branch’s efforts as long as the adults weren't looking.
Poppy was too young to join the braid, and it was a sad thing, dull white, greys and black chequered between them instead of a shimmering rainbow.
It didn’t matter, Branch reminded himself, he wasn’t going to lose them like this. He wasn’t big enough to hide them in his hair, all he could do was hold them tight and trust they wouldn’t let go.
He crept forward, the others moving with him. There was no bounce in their steps, no song in their hearts, just silence and grief and determination to survive.
They crept away, leaving no footprints, making no noise, and leaving not a smidge of glitter or colour behind them.
Later, when the adults returned, they would only find the faint imprints of a cuddle pile, and a well fed carnivorous plant.
Later, when they mourned with their traditional athems, the children would only hear the faintest notes, and shiver in fear, for grey hearts were not drawn to song when their own were so freshly silenced.