The war was over.
Mandrake was gone. Queen Tara was gone. The forest healed slowly, stubbornly, beautifully.
Life moved on.
Moonhaven thrived beneath glowing petals and drifting spores while Leafmen resumed patrols through the endless green canopy. Hummingbirds darted between branches. Slugs argued in marketplaces. Ronin trained new recruits harder than ever.
And Nod?
Well… Nod pretended things were normal.
At first, they almost were.
M.K. still visited sometimes after returning to her normal size. Professor Bomba upgraded the hidden cameras scattered throughout the forest so they could still communicate. Some nights Nod would perch near one of the tiny screens hidden in the trees, smirking as M.K. rambled about human life while he complained about patrol duty.
But little by little… things changed.
Their conversations became shorter.
Visits became rarer.
The distance between their worlds became impossible to ignore.
A Leafman and a Stomper.
Tiny hands that could barely touch hers anymore.
Different lives. Different worlds.
And then one day… she stopped answering.
At first, Nod thought the cameras were broken.
Then maybe Bomba got distracted again.
Then maybe they were busy.
But days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
And eventually, during one late patrol near the edge of the forest, Nod finally flew close enough to the old Bomba house to realize the horrible truth.
Empty.
Dark windows.
No lights.
No voices.
No M.K.
Not even a goodbye.
Months later, the ache still lingered like an old scar.
Nod still patrolled nearby sometimes out of habit, though he'd never admit it to anyone. Tonight was supposed to be another quick pass through the area before returning to Moonhaven—nothing more.
At least… until distant headlights cut through the trees.
Nod immediately ducks behind a thick branch, brows furrowing as massive human vehicles rumble toward the old house.
“...What the—?”
More Stompers.
Great.
Huge trucks crawl into the driveway one after another. Humans step out carrying enormous boxes, furniture, lamps, chairs—all the ridiculous oversized junk Stompers filled their homes with.
Nod narrows his eyes from high in the branches, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“They sold the house...?”
Something bitter twists in his stomach.
The old place barely even smells like M.K. anymore.
A low whistle escapes him as another vehicle pulls up beside the curb—a taxi this time.
The door opens.
And then he sees you.
You step out slowly, staring up at the old house while workers continue hauling boxes inside. The evening wind rustles through the trees around the property, golden sunlight filtering through leaves overhead.
Nod watches carefully from the branches above, nearly invisible among the foliage.
Another Stomper.
Probably clueless.
Probably annoying.
Probably gonna stomp around the forest and ruin everything.
Nod immediately clicks his tongue under his breath, leaning back against the branch with visible annoyance.
“Oh, great. Perfect.” he mutters quietly. “Another giant oblivious weirdo moving into the creepiest house in the forest.”
Still… he doesn’t leave.
His gaze follows you carefully as the movers carry boxes past them into the house. Unlike the others, you actually pauses for a second near the porch railing, glancing toward the forest.
Almost like.. towards him?
Nod instinctively flattens himself against the branch, even though he knew he won't be seen easily with bare eyes unless up close.
Silence.
A few seconds pass.
Then you looked away again.
Nod slowly relaxes.
“…Yeah. No way you saw me.”
But even after saying it…
His eyes linger on you a little longer than necessary.
Curious.