Chapter 22: Stop Whispering My Kinks, You Leafy Perverts!
The elf skipped along, humming to herself as she followed after Finn, with Majestria catching up beside them in a huff.
"What is your problem back there?" Majestria snapped. "First you dropkicked Larry like he owed you money, and then you insulted the troll! Do you just... hate goblins or something?!"
"Yes. I absolutely do," Finn replied flatly, eyes dead ahead, giving her zero attention.
The elf watched the exchange with a dazed smile, her choker pulsing softly. For reasons even she couldn’t explain, watching Finn ignore Majestria was... hot?
Fog began to settle again over the path ahead—this time thinner, more like misty breath than thick clouds.
Finn stopped in his tracks, fists clenched, seething.
"What is it with this world and fog?! I’m TIRED of it!" he shouted, stomping hard enough to shake a few leaves loose. "Did I die and get taken to Canada?!"
He looked down at the box in his hand, tempted to chuck it into a tree—or possibly at Majestria’s forehead—but paused when he glanced at the map.
"Oh. We’re still in the Whispering Forest," he muttered, suddenly calm. "That makes sense."
He resumed walking like he hadn’t just screamed at a tree ghost. Majestria gave him a confused glance but followed. The elf trailed behind, cheeks flushed.
As they moved deeper into the woods, the trees began to whisper again.