GF   Merde!

GF   What are you doing, you pomme freak?

Said freak suddenly starts and scampers off of the trail, into the foliage. This wouldn't usually be cause for alarm, as he has a propensity for crawling up trees whenever he sees fit. But you were in the middle of an argument, damn it. And you're not leaving it as is. Your eyes dart around before cautiously following, making sure to take high steps over everything scattered on the forest floor.

GF   What has gotten into you?

GF   Ah, I got it.

GF   You're fleeing, out of defeat from my point!

GF   I would much prefer you prostrate your apology instead, but if you -

AR   stop yelling, frenchman.

AR   you'll scare them off.

As you follow the sound of his voice, you hear strange noises. Is that... barking?

GF   It pains me to ask, but...

GF   You aren't chasing some wild creatures, are you?

AR   ...

When you finally catch up to him, he's crouched down near what looks to be a burrow. You lean onto a nearby tree, since you're in no rush to brawl with a badger.

GF   Arash Lockewood, in his natural habitat.

GF   Prancing after whatever woodland critter catches his eye.

GF   Tell me - what are you trying to accomplish now?

AR   ...

AR   ...hm.

GF   That clears things up.

AR   you know, you're not obliged to stay.

GF   Ah, but then, who speak sense into your primitive brain?

GF   Especially when you poke your head into random dens.

AR   i'm just making sure.

GF   Last time I checked, we are in the flourishing bosoms of Mother Nature.

GF   What is out here will take care of itself, Anglais.

AR   ...no.

AR   there were some traps nearby.

You blink. You wonder if he's bluffing.

AR   look at your feet instead of your bottle, next time.

You scoff and peer over, getting a closer glimpse of the den. A handful of petit foxes are peeking their noses out, sniffing curiously. Then, you take a good look at what your feral acquaintance is doing.

GF   Bordel de merde.

GF   May I remind you that they are wild animals?

AR   they're not wild.

AR   they’re just… not domesticated.

GF   And what? You plan to tame them?

AR   ...

AR   some pets won't hurt.

Grimacing, you inch your way back over to the tree, letting it be the protective barrier between you and the inevitable frenzy.

GF   Foxes have sharp teeth.

GF   And claws.

GF   Ferocious little things.

AR   maybe they would be kinder if you shared your garden.

GF   Bah. Are you seriously suggesting I let them have a go at my produce?

AR   only if they're decent.

AR   knowing you, they're probably more sour than sweet, anyway.

GF   You don't know a thing, Anglais.

GF   And I'm not letting you have any of my medicine if they bite you.

AR   ha.

AR   don't need it.

AR   yours, especially.

GF   Hah! What's wrong with my supply?

AR   your damn concoctions.

AR   i don't trust you to keep water untainted, frenchman.

GF   For the record, that medicine is not what I'm referring to.

GF   I am actually a gifted healer.

GF   You would know, since you saw my performance as Champion.

AR   i saw a performance, alright.

AR   which is why i don't trust your help, ever.

GF   Je suis désolé, for not healing myself with sticks and berries.

GF   Your medieval ways will get you killed, one of these days.

He has the audacity to ignore you, like he does whenever you remind him how asinine his little Tarzan roleplay can be. Well, his loss. He wouldn't know a good time if it hit him with the pointy end of an arrow.

AR   they won't.

GF   What?

AR   they won't bite me.

AR   they promised.

GF   Did I hear that right? They promised?

AR   they promised.

GF   Ah, so you're as mad as I thought you were.

AR   they promised.

GF   ...

GF   The foxes have promised you.

Even crouched down, you can see him nod his head. You look up at the heavens.

GF   Merciful Grosa, put an end to all of this.

GF   Just kill this man already. He disrespects us with his audacity.

Some soft clicking sounds, as well as some disturbingly realistic chirps. He rifles through his bag and brings out some strange-looking scraps.

AR   (here.)

AR   (chicken.)

It suddenly strikes you how ridiculous this entire situation is, and you start walking towards the den; you came out all this way to come across this folksy freak, and he won't even give you the time of day? You're not standing for it any longer.

GF   Anglais, you -

AR   if you come closer, i’m putting you down.

You're back behind the tree, which graciously took an arrow for you. And, out of your own generosity, you decide to give him a few more minutes.

AR   ...

Eventually, he stands back up, returning to the trail with a somber look on his face. You follow.

GF   What? Didn't hear what you wanted?

GF   Those noises. As if you could communicate with them.

GF   You are a beast of nature.

AR   ...

He's tugging on his sleeve. You grab his arm.

AR   don’t touch me.

AR   i'm in no mood for your perversions.

GF   Don't flatter yourself, you dirty outlaw.

GF   I wouldn't sully myself with the likes of you.

GF   But you are clearly hiding something.

GF   So, out with it.

AR   i said don’t touch me!

AR   damned nosy fool...!

After some mutual struggling, you're able to pull back the sleeve. And all you can do is stare.

GF   Anglais.

GF   Are you for serious right now.

AR   ...

GF   I cannot believe this.

GF   Why do I put up with this?

GF   You cannot keep doing this to yourself. It is asinine.

AR   they're young.

AR   they don't know better.

GF   You know better.

AR   no.

AR   i do.

He wrestles his arm out of your grasp and continues down the trail. You huff. Maybe you'll let him die of whatever disease he'll catch, rather than patching him up. That'll teach him. Then, you'll finally be rid of this nonsense, too.