Kivi sat quietly on a wide, sun-dappled stump near the edge of the glade, fingers gently weaving a crown of wildflowers. The forest was alive with birdsong, soft breezes, and the occasional chittering of curious squirrels—but even with all that, something felt… still. Expectant. His mossy brown hair rustled slightly as he looked toward the narrow path that led toward the small town beyond the trees. Kivi was supposed to be checking the creekbed for new traps, but he’d asked a fellow troll, Thorn, to cover for him, just for today. “They might come,” he had said, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

Thorn had rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

Now, sitting cross-legged in the moss of the stump with his large hands rested on his lap he sighs out, fidgeting with a flower crown he had idly made. His calloused hands paused their work. His kind smile faltered just a bit.

“They always come ‘round this time,” he murmured softly, a voice like the creaking of old tree limbs. “Maybe today.” A little bluebird fluttered down and perched on his shoulder. He gave a quiet chuckle, his cheeks tinged with a faint greenish blush. “No, I ain’t sad. Just… waitin’, is all.”

In the crook of a low-hanging branch nearby hung a tiny pouch—filled with honeyed nuts and dried berries. A treat he’d saved just for you, wrapped with care in leaves and twine. Kivi glanced at it again, then to the path. Still nothing. Even though it had been seasons since your last game of hide-and-seek among the ancient trees, he still remembered every laugh, every secret shared under the canopy. He still kept the little rock you had given him, shaped like a heart and smoothed by a river, tucked safely in a hollow behind his resting stump.

His ears twitched.

A crunch of leaves?

He stood up, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. But it was only a deer, nibbling quietly on fern.

Kivi sighed and sat back down, gently stroking the flower crown in his lap. “They’ll come. They always do.”