Moved to cave-of-the-owl-witch

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“When I close my eyes and listen to the rustling of the leaves, I can almost pretend that things are the way they used to be.”

Somewhere deep in the heart of Ventureland, a Gremlin pair was perched high in the mossy branches of a tree. They were far from the sounds of pirates drinking and carrying on, and the only sounds were the occasional call of a bird or gust of wind. Gus leaned his head back against the sturdy trunk, closing his eyes and listening closely. She was right; the sounds of kapoks and ferns were little different from the oaks and blackberry bushes of yore.

“It’s times like these that make me think that things here aren’t so bad,” he replied. “That perhaps we could have a life here, instead of pining away over what could have been.”

He felt her shift against his chest as she peered up at him. Cracking one eye open, he saw she was smirking.

He let out a low chuckle. “And just what is that look for?”

“Oh, nothing,” she replied coyly. “It’s just that your sentimental side is showing.”

“Yes, well... After keeping everything and everyone together for so long, I’ve earned it, haven’t I?”

This time, Fifinella laughed. “Many times over,” she said, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze in return.

The two of them sat there together as the jungle grew dark around them, each content and comfortable in the other’s silence. It was going to be an early day tomorrow, but neither of them wanted to leave just yet.

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“...That was the last time she and I got to be together. A few days later came the Thinner Disaster, and then the Blot Wars. The last time I saw her, she and a dozen others were flying off into a darkened sky...”

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“So, er… do you fellows ever eat real food?”

Gus glanced indignantly up at the pilot as he munched on a postage stamp; they may have agreed to help these Humans, but sometimes their manners still left a bit to be desired.

“What I mean is, I’ve only ever seen you eating those stamps. That’s not exactly what they were meant for, you know.”

The chief popped the last bit of his snack into his mouth and stared his counterpart down as he chewed and swallowed it, and only then did he respond. 

“Well, we Gremlins like them well enough, thank you,” he said curtly. “…But no, they aren’t all we eat. Most of us are fond of fruits, honey, grains, and even some meat now and then when we can get it.”

Pilot Gus seemed to find this odd. “But then why bother with the stamps at all?”

“It’s the glue,” he replied, leaning back in his seat and lighting his pipe. “It has a sweetness to it that tickles our tongues just right, you see.”

This apparently didn’t make things any clearer, if the look on the man’s face was any indicator. “I’ve licked many a postage stamp in my day, but I never thought any of them were particularly sweet. That is, I suppose they have some flavour to them, but I would never dream of eating one.”

Gus puffed twice, mulling over this new information. The pilot’s nose twitched a little as the strange, herbal smoke curled towards him.

“I think, perhaps, that our Gremlin tongues must be able to taste things that your Human ones can’t. Otherwise you would know what you were missing out on.”

Pilot Gus frowned slightly, looking as if he was about to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead, he pulled a rumpled paper bag from his duffel and unwrapped it to reveal a fluffy… thing with still more paper on the bottom. “What about this, then?”

The Gremlin blew a smoke ring and leaned in to get a better look. Whatever it was, it smelled lovely, and it seemed to be topped with chopped nuts. “…What is it?”

“A banana-nut muffin; a rare treat, what with the rationing and all. I smuggled the last one from the mess this morning,” the man said with a conspiratorial wink. He broke off a large chunk and held it out for Gus to take, which he did with utmost curiosity; it was almost spongy, but not in an unpleasant way. It sort of reminded him of a soft bread.

He gave it another sniff, easily making out walnut and… something unfamiliar… that must have been the banana. Without further ado, he gave it an experimental nibble.

It was sweet- much sweeter than postage stamps, but not the same kind of sweetness as honey- with a pleasant blend of fruitiness and the rich flavour of roasted nuts. He decided immediately that he liked it and eagerly took another bite.

The pilot let out a hardy chuckle. “I had a feeling you might like that better.”

Gus finished off the last little morsel of the muffin piece, once again staring the Human down as he returned to his pipe. “Delicious as that was, I’m still going to eat postage stamps; now you’ll just have to watch your muffin things, too.”