I haven't written a Trav FF in awhile, but it was really good to do so again. Hope you like!
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The most renowned ship in the Copper Kingdoms sat cradled in the bows of the largest tree its crew had ever seen, but the ship sat empty, inhabited only by the sounds of creaking wood and rustling leaves. The crew was aloft, climbing the higher branches of the vegetable behemoth, their jackets specks of color on its rugged skin. Their intrepid leader was higher, hidden in the press of the canopy, boisterous calls and the flash of scarf indicating his ascent.
“Cap’n’s really getting buggy. Climbing a blasted tree at 5 o’clock in the morning?” one young crewman shook his head, sweat trickling down his furrowed brow. “What if we fall to our deaths?”
Before his shaggy-faced companion could reply, a ringing answer came from above, amongst the leafy green.
“Fall from these trees?” The captain laughed, his upward progress muffling the sound. “They have spring leaves! One bounce’ll send you right back up again!”
The men looked down. The tree’s leaves were the size of dinner tables, growing in bunches below them. The two exchanged glances. In a matter of moments, a spyglass whistled toward the leaves. In nearly the same amount of time, it came whistling back up again, preceded by a distinct ‘sproiiinggg’. The shaggy-faced crewman snatched it out of the air and pocketed it.
“Well, I guess that answers that.”
They proceeded upward without another complaint. There was an incident with some sap on the higher branches that proved to be a very sticky situation, but none of the crew emerged any worse for wear. A few emerged with a little less clothing, however.
By the time the rosy sun was blushing over the mountains, the crew was puffing and wheezing their way past the last leaves. They looked like bedraggled pixies clambering over the ungainly foliage, half of them sticking to it. A lean, chestnut-haired youth with eager eyes and a long scarf whipping about his shoulders appeared first. It could’ve been because the rest of the crew was wrestling with plantlife, or, more likely, that he was Captain Trav, which no sap ever seemed to stick to, no fire ever seemed to burn, and no obstacle ever seemed to impede.
The young captain sat down among the oversized leaves, facing east, a contemplative smile upon his face. Each of his crew members sat, after brushing souvenirs of their climb from clothes and hair. They looked around and looked at each other as the watery sun slowly rose.
“What’re we waiting for?” a freckled crewman whispered, not even sure why he was whispering, but feeling it was appropriate.
“Nearly time,” Trav announced, producing an umbrella no one had noticed before.
This made several members of the crew nervous until….
When the sun reached the apex of the crested mountains, scattering its rays over the huge leaves and into the eyes of the Phoenix’s crew, an astonishing thing happened. All around them, the canopy erupted with gouts of flying, twittering gold. Sun glinted off the feathers of millions of tiny birds as they rose to greet the day. Their wings stirred a wind of sweet-smelling nectar around the gaping crew who followed the awe-inspiring sight with their eyes. No one noticed Captain Trav open his umbrella.
From the glittering sky there came a goopy white rain that brought a sudden and very rude end to the sky-gazing. A few crewmen had managed to duck under leaves before getting the worst of the sour shower, but only the captain remained unsoiled. He lifted his eyebrows at his stunned and soppy crew.
“Someone once told me ‘always bring an umbrella, because… you never know.’” He stood up with a smile. “Come on. There should be a really big puddle down there with water that removes any smell.”
And with a hum on his lips, his umbrella resting on his shoulder, he disappeared into the leaves. A troop of sullen, soggy crewmates followed after him.
“How does he do that?” a slippery ginger muttered to a portly crewman.
“What, keep smiling even though birds just –?”
“No. How does he know to bring an umbrella?”
“Well, you never know…”
The redhead shoved him. The other man chuckled and shrugged his round shoulders.
“There’s more to the captain than we know. Heck, there’s more to the captain than even HE knows!”
When they got to the bottom of the tree, less than a mile away was a really big puddle that truly did wash away any smell.
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The most renowned ship in the Copper Kingdoms sat cradled in the bows of the largest tree its crew had ever seen, but the ship sat empty, inhabited only by the sounds of creaking wood and rustling leaves. The crew was aloft, climbing the higher branches of the vegetable behemoth, their jackets specks of color on its rugged skin. Their intrepid leader was higher, hidden in the press of the canopy, boisterous calls and the flash of scarf indicating his ascent.
“Cap’n’s really getting buggy. Climbing a blasted tree at 5 o’clock in the morning?” one young crewman shook his head, sweat trickling down his furrowed brow. “What if we fall to our deaths?”
Before his shaggy-faced companion could reply, a ringing answer came from above, amongst the leafy green.
“Fall from these trees?” The captain laughed, his upward progress muffling the sound. “They have spring leaves! One bounce’ll send you right back up again!”
The men looked down. The tree’s leaves were the size of dinner tables, growing in bunches below them. The two exchanged glances. In a matter of moments, a spyglass whistled toward the leaves. In nearly the same amount of time, it came whistling back up again, preceded by a distinct ‘sproiiinggg’. The shaggy-faced crewman snatched it out of the air and pocketed it.
“Well, I guess that answers that.”
They proceeded upward without another complaint. There was an incident with some sap on the higher branches that proved to be a very sticky situation, but none of the crew emerged any worse for wear. A few emerged with a little less clothing, however.
By the time the rosy sun was blushing over the mountains, the crew was puffing and wheezing their way past the last leaves. They looked like bedraggled pixies clambering over the ungainly foliage, half of them sticking to it. A lean, chestnut-haired youth with eager eyes and a long scarf whipping about his shoulders appeared first. It could’ve been because the rest of the crew was wrestling with plantlife, or, more likely, that he was Captain Trav, which no sap ever seemed to stick to, no fire ever seemed to burn, and no obstacle ever seemed to impede.
The young captain sat down among the oversized leaves, facing east, a contemplative smile upon his face. Each of his crew members sat, after brushing souvenirs of their climb from clothes and hair. They looked around and looked at each other as the watery sun slowly rose.
“What’re we waiting for?” a freckled crewman whispered, not even sure why he was whispering, but feeling it was appropriate.
“Nearly time,” Trav announced, producing an umbrella no one had noticed before.
This made several members of the crew nervous until….
When the sun reached the apex of the crested mountains, scattering its rays over the huge leaves and into the eyes of the Phoenix’s crew, an astonishing thing happened. All around them, the canopy erupted with gouts of flying, twittering gold. Sun glinted off the feathers of millions of tiny birds as they rose to greet the day. Their wings stirred a wind of sweet-smelling nectar around the gaping crew who followed the awe-inspiring sight with their eyes. No one noticed Captain Trav open his umbrella.
From the glittering sky there came a goopy white rain that brought a sudden and very rude end to the sky-gazing. A few crewmen had managed to duck under leaves before getting the worst of the sour shower, but only the captain remained unsoiled. He lifted his eyebrows at his stunned and soppy crew.
“Someone once told me ‘always bring an umbrella, because… you never know.’” He stood up with a smile. “Come on. There should be a really big puddle down there with water that removes any smell.”
And with a hum on his lips, his umbrella resting on his shoulder, he disappeared into the leaves. A troop of sullen, soggy crewmates followed after him.
“How does he do that?” a slippery ginger muttered to a portly crewman.
“What, keep smiling even though birds just –?”
“No. How does he know to bring an umbrella?”
“Well, you never know…”
The redhead shoved him. The other man chuckled and shrugged his round shoulders.
“There’s more to the captain than we know. Heck, there’s more to the captain than even HE knows!”
When they got to the bottom of the tree, less than a mile away was a really big puddle that truly did wash away any smell.
