Chapter Text
A little gray trolling sat on the edge of a dusty road, a worn looking bag sitting beside him. Branch held his ankle with both hands, it throbbed with pain and he was struggling not to cry.
A few weeks ago Branch had decided to leave his village once and for all. He was tired of being bounced around from foster home to foster home, full of people who either hated him or tried to turn him into something he wasn’t. He was tired of living in a village full of trolls who didn’t care how close they were to Bergen Town, that one loud party could lead the Bergens right to them.
So he packed a bag of his prized possessions and a few essentials and snuck out in the middle of the night.
At first things were great! For the first time in years Branch didn’t have overbearing adults looking over his shoulder or other kids staring at him and whispering behind their hands. Branch could just… Be. He could just exist without hurting anyone.
And then he left the forest and ended up in this desert of a wasteland, Branch did okay at first. He was careful to ration his food and slept with a weapon in his hand. Not wanting to be caught off guard and lose his life.
But today everything came crashing down, literally. Branch had gotten his foot caught in some kind of hole and tripped and now his ankle really hurt. He quickly found that he was unable to put any sort of weight on it without facing an antagonizing amount of pain.
He sniffed and whipped at his eyes, trying not to cry. Branch didn’t know what he was going to do. He was stuck here with a hurt leg and he had run out of food last night.
But before he could come up with any sort of plan a strange clip-clopping sound filled the air. He reached into his bag and pulled out a small knife. He was alone out here and who knew how many things out in this strange land liked to eat trolls.
Dust had risen up into the air as the thing approached and got into Branch’s eyes, he tried to rub it away as the strange sound got closer and closer. When his vision had finally cleared he saw the figure that matched the clopping sound.
And….
It was a troll?
The troll looked like one he had never seen before, she had orange skin and red hair which did remind him of the trolls back home. But that was where the similarities ended, for she had four legs with hooves and a fluffy looking teal tail. Her clothes weren't neon, pastel, or covered in glitter, but fairly plain looking; with a few dirt stains and patches. The woman seemed to notice him too for she started to walk over to him, the clopping sound following her.
“Hey sugar” she said, her voice sounded strange with a light, singsong tone to it. Nothing like Branch had ever heard before. “Why’re you out here all alone?”
Branch sniffled and tried to scoot away on his bottom, dragging his injured leg along the ground. The hand holding his knife shook a bit.
“Hey, hey” the woman said, her voice gentle. “s’okay, I’m not gonna to hurt you.” She knelt in front of him “what happened?”
Something about this woman felt calming and she had an earthy smell to her. Branch didn’t know why that relaxed him so much. “I tripped,” he said, tears finally spilling down his cheeks. “It hurts really bad.”
“I’m sure it does” the woman said “mind if I take a look?”
Branch hesitated before nodding, the woman knelt down and carefully took his ankle in her hands. He winced a bit in pain but stayed still. The woman tutted softly “looks like you sprained it honey.”
“Oh…”
She pulled out a piece of dark green cloth and tied it around his ankle. “We'll have to put some ice on it.”
“I don’t have any ice,” Branch said.
“Not to worry,” she smiled at him, “town’s not too far from here.”
There was a town out there… In the desert?
“How?” He asked, “it hurts to walk.”
“Climb on my back” she said “I’ll carry ya.”
“Won’t that hurt you?”
She chuckled “you’re sweet, sugar, but not to worry. I’ll be fine.” The women helped Branch climb onto her back before slowly standing “hold on darlin’.”
Branch held his bag in one hand and to the women’s shirt with the other. And she began to walk, the clopping sound following them as her hooves hit the ground. It was then Branch realized he had no idea what this lady’s name was.
“Ms” he said “I’m sorry but… What’s your name?”
She chuckled “no need to apologize hon. I’m Delta Dawn. What’s your name?”
“Branch.” He said “my name is Branch.”
—--------
It didn’t take too long before they made it to the town Ms Delta Dawn had been talking about, a wooden sign declared the place to be called ‘The Lonesome Flats’ and it looked nothing back in the forest.
Back in the village the whole place was bright and colorful, full of flowers, glitter, and lights. The Lonesome Flats was nothing like that, there were string lights and lanterns strung between buildings and instead of big colorful flowers the main decor was cacti and the smaller flowers growing on them.
It seemed like the main colors were browns, gray, oranges, and dark greens and reds. Unlike back in the forest village which was full of pinks, purples, blues, and yellows. Branch found he preferred the colors of The Lonesome Flats, it didn’t feel like he was going to get a headache just by looking at a building.
The trolls were also different, like Ms Delta Dawn they all had four legs. And unlike the trolls Branch grew up with they wore clothes made out of burlap, denim, flannel, and gingham. Fabrics the trolls back home wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.
Ms Delta Dawn walked through the town, still carrying Branch and several people turned to stare at them. Branch shrunk in on himself, wondering if they were staring because of his grayness or his lack of four legs. Probably both.
They soon reached a house with a wrap-around porch and planter boxes with some flowers Branch didn’t recognize growing inside.
The house was nice and cool inside, offering relief to the dusty, sandy, dry heat outside. The inside looked nothing like the pods Branch was used to. The floor was made with shining, polished wood and the walls were wallpapered, cream colored with little flowers.
Branch was carried to what must have been the dining room and kitchen, but the table was short and close to the ground and instead of chairs there were cushions. Which made sense, Branch figured that it was hard to sit in chairs when you had four legs.
“Alrighty” Ms Delta Dawn said “home sweet home, I’m just gonna put ya here sugar while I get some ice for that leg of yours.”
Oh right, his ankle. “Okay. Thank you.”
She carefully lifted him off her back and set him on one of the cushions and disappeared into the kitchen. And Branch took a better look around, the table was decorated with a red and white checkered tablecloth and vase full of some of the flowers from outside. The walls were decorated with a few paintings and framed photos.
Ms Delta Dawn soon returned with some ice wrapped up in a towel. “There you are.”
“Thank you Ms” Branch said, taking the ice and setting his ankle.
Ms Delta Dawn smiled at him “was no trouble, now, you hungry? Thirsty?”
“No,” he lied, not wanting to be any more of a bother than he already had.
Unfortunately for him, Branch’s stomach decided to betray him. Letting out a loud growl. Ms Delta Dawn smiled knowingly “I’ll go whip ya up somethin’.”
“You don’t have to” Branch protested “I don’t want you to go through all that trouble.”
“Nonsense” she waved a hand “think nothing of it.”
Before Branch could protest further she had already headed back to the kitchen. He sighed and looked down and he poked at his ankle, it was already starting to feel better.
Ms Delta Dawn came back over with a plate of what looked like biscuits, a jar of jam, and a glass of some kind of brown liquid with ice. “Here ya are, sugar.” She set the food in front of him.
The woman sat down across from him, carefully folding her legs underneath her. Branch looked down at the plate before picking a biscuit up, unable to deny that he was hungry. The bread was soft and a little crumbly and didn’t taste like much.
Branch must have made a face because Ms Delta Dawn laughed lightly “it’ll probably taste better with jam.”
“Oh” Branch blushed “sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” she said, pushing the jar closer to him.
Branch hesitated, in his experience jam was full of added sugar, often to the point where you couldn’t taste the fruit. But he didn’t want to be rude so he used a knife to carefully spread a little on a biscuit.
The bread was still crumbly but now there was an added sweetness, but unlike the jam he grew up with, this one had a more tarty taste. “Mmm” he hummed involuntarily. “This is really good, what is it?”
“That’s fig jam honey” Ms Delta Dawn said, Branch nodded and looked down at the plate. Not wanting to be greedy. “You can have another.”
“Really?” He looked up at her.
“Of course.”
Branch ate a few more biscuits and drank what the older troll called ‘iced sweet tea.’ When he was done she looked over his ankle, the swelling was starting to go down and she predicted that he would be ‘as right as rain’ by the end of the week.
He didn’t know how to tell her that he wouldn’t be here for that long.
—--------
When Delta Dawn had set out to Grumble Gulch she hadn’t expected to find a young, strange looking trolling hurt on the side of the road.
The boy, Branch, had gray skin and black hair and only two legs. He wore a too-big vest made of fabric leaves and a pair of worn shorts. She had never seen anyone like him before but she wasn’t about to let that stop her from helping him.
She brought him home, put some ice on his sprained ankle, fed him, and now she wanted a few answers. Branch only looked to be no older than eight and was quite dirty and skinny. Clearly someone hasn’t been taking good care of him.
“Are you feeling better?” She asked.
“Yes Ms” he said politely “thank you.”
Branch had to be one of the most polite children she had ever met. Parents around here may teach their young good manners but they were still children. They still ran around like a bunch of miniature whirlwinds, causing ruckus and destruction wherever they went.
“Branch” she said, keeping her voice casual “it’s not often someone your age is wanderin’ about by themselves. Where’re your parents?”
“Oh um…” Branch looked down “they died… When I was an egg.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She said gently, “do you have someone takin’ care of you?”
There was a pause before he shook his head “no” he said softly “not anymore. Nobody wants to take care of me.”
“I see…” Delta Dawn said “may I ask why?”
“What do you mean why?” He looked up at her, gesturing to himself “I mean… Look at me! No one wants to take care of a gray troll!”
She frowned, why would that…. Oh.
Delta Dawn had heard stories of trolls who had lost all love and joy for music losing their colors. But she had never seen it before. And she had definitely never heard of one so young.
An idea began to form in Delta’s head, it was clear that this child had no one to take care of him. That the adults in his life who were tasked to do so clearly didn’t want to or had failed to.
“Well darlin’” she finally said, mind made up. “If you don’t have anywhere else to go then you’re welcome to stay here.”
“Here in Lonesome Flats?” Branch said.
“Yes,” she confirmed “with me. But if you don’t want to” she added “I can find someone else to take care of ya.”
“Do I have to stay with someone?” Branch asked, “I can take care of myself.”
“Honey,” she said, “even if that’s true you can barely walk right now.”
The boy seemed to consider that, frowning at the ground with a thoughtful expression. After several moments Branch seemed to come to a decision and nodded to himself, looking back up at her.
“Okay,” he said “I’ll stay. But only until my ankle is better.”