Don’t Trust A Leafwing



Bowman and Jacob, Mischief Managed (from a much older prompt list that I am far too lazy to go dig up)

Bowman flitted to and fro while Jacob walked along the forest floor, his heavy steps crushing twigs and leaves beneath his boots. The pair made an odd sight navigating the woods. Where one was only four inches tall and glided on wings mimicking the leaves all around them, the other stood over six feet tall and sported a worn out hoodie.

They were as different as they could be, but they’d managed to build an easy friendship over Jacob’s visits to the forest. Bowman, despite all of his complaints about human nonsense, never stopped coming up with more questions.

Up ahead, Bowman saw something glinting in the sun and grinned. He had an idea.

He drifted downward to fly in a circle around Jacob’s head. The human stopped to avoid bumping into him and raised his eyebrows. “Yes, Bowman?” he said, a smirk growing on his face. “You have my attention.”

Bowman hovered at Jacob’s eye level and pointed toward a pine tree with long, spindly branches and golden drops of sap glistening upon them. The sun filtering down through the leaves above cast light over the sap so that it almost glowed invitingly. “There’s some pine sap over there. You should try some!”

Jacob frowned critically. “Isn’t that, like, super bitter?” he asked. Even so, he resumed walking when Bowman led the way towards the tree.

Bowman scoffed. “It’s delicious,” he countered. “Figures you humans would know more about phone things than what’s good to eat.

Jacob snickered as Bowman came to a landing on one of the branches. Where Bowman could deftly find a place to stand, Jacob had to stoop slightly to avoid being poked by the sharp green needles of the tree. He peered skeptically at a large glob of sap sitting on the branch.

Bowman rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a sprout about it,” he complained. “See?” he stooped to grab a flake of bark to scoop some of the sap up. With relish, he ate the sticky amber sap and gestured with a wing for Jacob to try it.

Jacob sighed and it ruffled Bowman’s hair, but then he shrugged. “I guess. You’ll know better than any wilderness guidebooks,” he reasoned aloud. He took a smear of the sap on his fingertip.

Any second now.

The minute Jacob tasted the sap, his face morphed into one of complete disgust. “Oh Jesus Christ,” he lamented, his mouth turned downward in a tight frown. The overwhelming bitter flavor, a favorite of Bowman’s, was stronger than he ever could have expected.

Bowman cackled. “Oh, Spirit, I can’t believe that worked.”

“Oh my God,” Jacob rolled his eyes, still with a note of disgust in his voice. The taste of the sap would linger with him for hours. “You’re such an ass.”

Bowman fluttered up from the branch. “And you’re such a giant. Congratulations, Jacob. You’ve been had by someone the size of your finger.” He held up his hand with his index finger extended for emphasis.

Jacob mimicked the motion, but before Bowman knew what he was up to, he poked at Bowman’s chest in midair. Bowman faltered and glared, and Jacob smirked. “I’ll put you in my pocket,” he warned.

Bowman narrowed his eyes. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Definitely Fairy Tales canon. Definitely only happened once. Jacob learns quickly that Bowman is a stinker, and here you see he definitely employed the right technique. Just poke him.

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