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It was quiet. Painfully, suffocatingly quiet.
None of them knew for how long. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. Or days. Or longer.
None of them liked to think that it could be longer.
But there was really no way of telling, from inside here. Not now. Maybe not ever.
It felt like an eternity.
None of them dared to admit that though.
And then the silence was broken.
It was a delicate sound. Starting as a quiet little thing. And if it weren’t for the absolute silence inside the tree, they probably would have missed it. But as things stood, a tiny sound was all it took in the quiet darkness to make the oh-so-almighty beasts jump.
Shadow Milk was the first to whip his head around, finding the source in the non-existing light. The others followed suit only seconds later.
All but two:
Silent Salt, who didn't need to turn and could just glance from the peripheral of his eyes, and Burning Spice, sitting with his back turned towards the rest of them. Shaking.
The sound came undoubtedly from the red beast. Starting as something that might have been mistaken for a sob, before it grew into a low snicker.
Eternal Sugar cringed at the sound. Her eyes weren't as well adapted to the dark as Shadow Milks, but what she lacked in dark vision, she could substitute for in proximity. Tentatively she reached out her hand, across the space between her and the blue jester, to touch the shaking shoulder of her friend… of the one who betrayed them, and then joined arms with them anyways later. She stopped just shy of touching him, as the snickering turned to full on laughter. Manic as it bounced around in the hollow of their wooden prison.
“Tikka..?” The worry in her voice was thick, yet the little nickname came out as nothing more but a whisper.
She willed herself to close the distance. Leaning forward slightly as her fingers brushed against red dough, light like a feather.
Burning Spice recoiled immediately, as if the contact, however light, had burned him.
Because it did. Not physically, no. But it burned nonetheless. The gentleness of it, the familiarity, the intent to comfort! It burned like molten fire inside his strawberry jam.
“Don’t touch me!” The beast hissed, the sound too weak to be a roar, but still louder than necessary in the quiet space. The flightless angel recoiled on instinct. And as much as it had burned, part of him immediately missed the warmth in the cold darkness.
The others watched as Burning Spice's hands went up, up, up and buried themselves in his loose hair as his head lowered, shoulders hunched up. “I knew it! I knew this would happen!” The quiet laughter returned, self-loathing and miserable.
There was endless darkness around him. He could feel it creeping closer as he spoke, thicker the longer his pinpricks of yellow irises stared at it. It felt like it was starting to wrap itself around his body. Breathing came harder as his fingers tugged at his hair.
“History always repeats itself!” he had been a fool to have hoped for the contrary.
“Well, you didn't really help with that”, Shadow Milk cut into his old friend's self-pity, rolling his eyes while he did so, arms crossing over his chest.
The blue jester was conscious of his movements. Had been so when he had turned around, as well. For all the hovering and floating around he prevered…outside, he sat almost uncharacteristically still now. Because the dark, while torture for some, was a hidden blessing for him. Even with his vision, the dark hid the walls from him. Which meant he could trick his mind into believing the space was bigger than it probably was… The only thing that kept him, personally, sane in the moment.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Shadow Milk!” Burning Spice growled in response, keeping his back still turned.
“Why? You know it’s true!” The keeper of honesty continued flippantly. “You teamed up with the enemy, threw us under the bus, and when I tried to talk to you, you had me gagged!” He counted on his fingers, eyes drifting from the red beast across from him towards the dark ceiling.
Part of him wondered how high it was. Or how low. If he reached out a hand, would that be all the space he got before his fingers would brush unyielding wood…?
The thought was quickly forced into a little mental box as Shadow Milk snapped his eyes back down, focusing on Burning Spice once again. Their gaze meeting as he noticed that at some point, the other had partly turned around.
“At least I was taking action! I only allied with that demon because she promised me that THIS-”, Burning Spice was gesturing haphazardly towards their non-existent surroundings, suppressing a shudder as it brought the darkness into even more focus, “wouldn’t happen!” He bit out.
“Well, maybe, you would have had more success with that, if you had talked to us, instead of hot headedly doing your own thing!” Shadow Milk countered, rising to his feet ever so carefully as he glowered down towards the other.
“Blueberry…I’m not sure this is the right time-?” Eternal Sugar's meek interference went nearly unheard. If she still had her wings, they would probably be fluffed up like those of a bird in distress. Her gaze flicked from one to the other, one hand raised halfway to tuck at Shadow Milk's sleeve, but stopping just shy of actually touching.
Fighting in here would be catastrophic. They all knew that. But tension was a dangerous beast, more dangerous than them even. And it kept her voice captured, preventing it from rising above a whisper. Preventing the boys from listening to her, as well.
“You should have taken a page out of Mystic Flours book!” Shadow Milk continued, vaguely gesturing in the direction of the white queen, who outwardly seemed to regard their arguing with indifference.
They knew she had her own demons to battle right now. Her hands still clutching Dark Cacaos bracelet silently.
“Contrary to YOU, Mystic actually talked to me! We tried to work together to find a solution!” Shadow Milk went on, anger burning in the multitude of eyes that all glared at Burning Spice. He was stressed, he was frustrated, but most importantly: he was stuck. Stuck in this terrible, small, tree. Away from Pure Vanilla. Away from Vanilla Crescent! He didn't even have a way of knowing if they both were okay! And right now there was only one cookie he could actively blame to relieve his misery.
Just unfortunate that said cookie wasn't one to simply take a beating from him, verbally or not.
“YEAH?! And see where that got you! Got all of us!” Burning Spice snapped back, rising to his feet and whirling around in one smooth motion to face Shadow Milk head on. Contrary to the jester, the warriors movements were exaggerated, one arm coming short of accidentally hitting Silent Salt as he gestured wildly at all of them.
“You are sooooo good at talking all high and mighty!” Burning Spice snarled, taking a step forward as his fists balled at his side.
Shadow Milk instinctively took a step back, posture tensing.
“You can go ahead and pretend your plan was better all ya want! But it doesn't change the fact that, in the end, your efforts were just as useless!”
Another step back. Red loomed over blue.
“Go ahead! Brag how great your team work was!” Burning Spices fangs were bared, meanwhile Shadow Milk had his shoulders hunched up, his hair moving in the dark in restless waves.
“In the end, it still got us trapped, AGAIN!” A hand reached out, a shove, just lightly, against blue shoulders. Shadow Milks back hit a wall. The wood behind him uneven as it twisted and wove into the solid structure of their prison. His breath hitched.
Every retort he might have wanted to utter, if any, died on his lips. Because now he knew.
He hadn't counted his steps. But he knew.
Knew just how suffocatingly tiny this tree prison was.
He couldn't retreat with solid wood against his back. He couldn't move forward with Burning Spice standing so close in front of him. The sides weren't an option either. The space was too small. He was trapped. Trapped. Trapped. Trapped!
Bi-colored eyes clamped shut, the ones littering his hair followed suit, as Shadow Milk tried to regain his breath. Regain control. To not unravel at the seams.
And all of a sudden, Burning Spice found himself faced with even more darkness as he was denied eye contact. The sudden lack of the minuscule glow that had hailed from Shadow Milk's eyes made the dark seemingly ten times worse as Burning Spices eyes had to readjust all over again. It made a wave of clarity wash over him, the shock dousing the flames of his anger, making him stumble a step back. And then another as his ears picked up on Shadow Milks stuttered breathing, uncomfortably loud in the returned quiet.
“Wait. Don’t-”, the Destroyer nearly choked on his own words. Worry, shame and fear all fighting with each other on his face. “Don’t do that. Please. I didn't mean to-!”
Another step back. He stopped when Shadow Milks shoulders tensed, and another voice cut through the dark.
“This won’t help our situation…” Mystic Flours voice wasn’t much louder than Eternal Sugars had been earlier. But her tone, deceptively cold and flat, demanded attention nonetheless.
She had her back turned towards her companions once more. Thumbs brushing over the cold bracelet still clutched in her hands, ever so gently.
The boys arguing was inconsequential. It wouldn't change anything, besides making being stuck here even more miserable. But she also couldn't find it in herself to stop it more thoroughly as silent tears began to roll down her cheeks.
A sliver of blue met red as honesties eyes opened once more, just a fraction, to look at reluctant protection.
With a light push against rough bark, Shadow Milk took a step away from the walls, into the newly acquired free space between him and Burning Spice. He took a deeper breath as air came just a little bit easier to him. He didn't miss how Burning Spice took another step back, giving him more room.
Both of them averted their eyes in silent agreement to speak no more, for the time being. Mystic Flours words hanging like a shroud over all of them. Leaving them to battle their own sorrows alone. Because they all knew she was right.
Very fittingly, the one who broke the tender mournful silence next, would be the knight who called a literal graveyard his home, as angry purple glared holes into closed off red.