Darcy had known, within his gut and within his head, that crossing through the seemingly endless field of wild wheat that towered far above his golden curls was a terrible idea. Nonetheless, he followed his heart- and the commandings of his tiny company- into the pale yellow maze of stalks that reached their arms towards the white hot orb in the sky.
The only way the boy could navigate through such dense walls of wheat was by following the crow flying just above the child, circling. Though, Darcy could barely make out the shining black bird as his only hand was too full from carrying a little porcelain cup, with boots and gloves tucked neatly inside, to be able to block the rays of the sun from blinding him.
Fed up, the golden child took to talking to himself, as he huffed, ‘ It is a wonderful thing that blasted blackwell cannot hear me from down here, or I am afraid this field would have been turned to nothing but ash!’
‘Why, if only.’ Darcy added while shoving his way through wheat, ‘That would make navigating this field much easier.’
Up above looking like a black smudge against the sky, Cuppy had just been thinking the same. While he swore to himself he did not remember ever crossing such a vast wheat field before, he reassured that he was much too familiar with these winding woods to be lost. Besides, it was always much easier to tell where you are headed from high above the ground.
Glancing down to check on the little nuisance under him, the boy struggled to follow his lead as Darcy decided enough was enough, and stopped trailing. The blackwell lowered down from the air and landed among the dirt from which the wheat grew, and the golden child followed him down as he slumped with a groan to sit upon his heels.
‘I do not care to hear how long we have been doing this silly song and dance,’ Darcy prefaced, ‘do just tell me: Are we there yet?’
The bird rolled his eyes, ‘Do not be so impatient! We are making progress, that is what matters. Unless you would like to be stuck in these woods forever, you are better off following my lead!’
‘Do you happen to know how far it is from that cliff, then?’
Cuppy hesitated, shifting his wings in his crow shape in silence as he seemed to think- to which the boy raised a skeptical eyebrow.
‘You do not know, do you?’
‘Why, I have a very sound idea of where we are going!’
‘An idea is not enough! It has already been a whole day, and I refuse to believe you were able to carry me as far as this.’
As Darcy spat, he placed down the porcelain cup onto the dirt floor with a soft thump. The crow before him hopped along towards it, until he was close enough to shudder and lose his shape so that he may slither back inside his cup. The blackwells’ form almost melting into it while boots and gloves bubbled up and out onto the ground as Cuppy took back his shell.
The golden child watched on with a reluctant curiosity, trying his very best not to stare as staring was considered very rude. As the blackwell slipped stick thin claws into ratty gloves, Darcy noticed his legs were still that of a birds’. However, as he continued to watch- and Cuppy seemed to take note- a sudden ‘snap!’ cracked from the cups’ first ankle, breaking forwards into a leg that resembled that of yours or mine. The child winced at each pop of the legs, to the amusement of the cup, who felt nothing.
‘I will admit, I do not recall dragging you quite this far… But do not misjudge me, I could if I so wanted to!’
‘So that is it then? We are lost?’
‘We are not lost!’
‘Then tell me, where are we?’
‘We are south, I know that.’
The boy tossed up his hand in irritation, before dropping his head into his palm with nothing but a harsh whine.
He waited a moment, Cuppy looking on as the child never picked up his head. One, two, three seconds and Darcy refused to move. The cup huffed, rolling his eyes once again as he turned on his heel with his arms behind him.
‘If you would like to try steering us through this maze, be my guest.’ he teased hautily, ‘ I can watch upon your shoulder as you truly get lost!’
And suddenly a hand reached out to grip the cup in a sudden hold, the golden child plopping Cuppy down onto his shoulder before the wicked thing could think to bite his palm without much grace.
‘You have been little help, so I will take that offer!’ Darcy spat as he started off into the sea of wheat once more.