The Golden Apple
“Hurgh… c’mon… there, finally!”
With one final heave, the apple rolled into its place on the center of the stump. Its porter, Wren, let out a belabored sigh before slumping down against the side of the apple to rest. Despite how tired he was, he smiled, pleased with his efforts and excited for the work to come.
Now, rolling an apple onto a stump might not seem very hard to the average person, but average in size Wren was certainly not! For he was a Picori; a member of a race of people so small that he could take shade underneath a four-leaf clover. To him, this apple was large enough that he could comfortably fit inside it if he hollowed it out. And, as it so happened, that was exactly what he intended to do.
This apple had caught his eye yesterday, as it fell from a tree near his home. The moment he saw it, it had captivated him, as it was no ordinary apple– it was a golden apple. Without hesitation, he had rolled it all the way to his home, and as he’d done so, he’d brainstormed as to what exactly he’d do with it. He’d eventually decided that he’d carve into it and make it into an extravagant centerpiece in his bedroom. He could carve a nook for him to sleep, with cubbies that could store any number of things, from books to snacks… just thinking about it made him grin eagerly, so as soon as he got the apple to the stump he called home, he rolled it up on top of it, and began the messy act of carving the thing out. He’d spent the entirety of yesterday’s afternoon chipping away at it, and when that evening came, he’d stashed the apple away in his bedroom, moving his mattress as well as some of his belongings into it. He’d slept in it that night, though he knew his work on it was far from over. There was still so much more to be done!
Wren stood back up, having fully recuperated. He peeked inside the alcove he had carved out yesterday. It was of decent size, and his mattress sat at the bottom of it (with his bed made neatly, of course). But he wanted it to be bigger; he’d felt somewhat claustrophobic sleeping in it yesterday. He also wanted to add some more cubby holes, as the few small ones he’d already carved were filled up with his personal journal, reading lamp, stash of rock candy, and a small assortment of other knickknacks. He’d definitely have to carve out a lot more than that in order to fit in all the goodies he wanted to.
Oh, but enough wanting. It was time to do! Wren pulled out the hammer and chisel he’d stashed in his pocket. He crawled into the alcove and pressed the chisel against the roof of it, steadied himself, then whacked it with a precise strike of his hammer.
And instantly, his face was met with a cold splash of apple juice.
“Yeesh, I forgot how messy this was,” Wren muttered to himself, quickly wiping his face dry. “Hm… maybe I should take my belongings out of here for now, just so they’re out of the splash zone.” As he was thinking about it, he looked back up at the ceiling, where he’d just tried to hew. Keyword being ‘tried’– it looked like he’d hardly made a dent in it. He frowned, looking down at the culprit: his chisel. After all the work he’d done with it yesterday, it was chipped and dull. If he wanted to get any work done today, this wasn’t going to cut it. Or chisel it.
Grumbling, Wren crawled out of the apple. He didn’t know how to properly fix a chisel himself, though he knew that the town blacksmith would likely be able to. Still, he was annoyed– with the time it took to get there and back, this was going to set him back at least an hour. And was it even safe to leave the apple out in the open for that long? What if some animal came by and snagged it?
No, no, stop worrying. It’s not like he could protect the apple from something like a deer, even if he was there. He recognized that. He also knew that the tiny clearing his home was located in was so secluded that animals almost never came by. Worry was only creeping up on him because he’d already spent so much time on this project, and it’d pain him gravely to lose all the work he’d done. But unless he was insanely unlucky, that wasn’t going to happen… surely.
Hastily, he began making his way toward the main village. This chisel had better get fixed A.S.A.P.
Thankfully for Wren, his journey to the Minish village was a successful one. The blacksmith was more than happy to fix the chisel for him. It was a quick and easy job– the blacksmith grinded the thing down with his metal file like it was nothing. Wren paid him for his service, said his farewells, then rushed off as quickly as he could. More than anything, he wanted to get back home to finish carving out that apple.
As he neared the entrance to the town, however, he was met with an unusual sight. A group of fellow Picori were gathered, chittering amongst themselves. They formed a circle around one Picori in the center, who was holding onto a vibrant blue feather that was three times as big as he was! Wren thought this was all very odd, but he also wasn’t keen on wasting any more time, so he tried to scurry past them to exit town. Unfortunately, the Picori holding the feather seemed to have other ideas.
“Hey, hey! Wren! Come check this out!” he hollered, stopping Wren in his tracks with the worst kind of shackle: social convention.
Wren turned to face him, scowling slightly. “What is it, Nori? Make it quick; I’m busy.”
Nori’s expression drooped. “Oh, I’m not trying to be a bother. But this is important! Especially if you’re heading outside the village walls.” He gestured to the feather he was holding, wiggling it around. “Did you see this?”
“It’d be hard not to,” Wren replied dryly.
“I know, right! It’s the biggest feather I’ve ever seen!” Nori exclaimed. “I’m lucky it dropped on the ground, too, because there’s no way I could’ve plucked it off of where it came from.”
“Big feather means a big bird, right?”
Nori nodded. “Yeah yeah! I’m not exaggerating when I say this bird was MASSIVE. I only got to see it for a few seconds before it wandered off, but it had to have been twice as tall as a Hylian! Maybe even more! I’m lucky it didn’t notice me. Gosh, my heart’s still pounding…”
“So, you just wanted to warn me about it?” Wren asked. “I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. I’ll just lay low on my way back home. I’ll be fine.”
Nori looked concerned. “I hope so. Be careful out there, alright?”
“Will do,” Wren said, already backing away. Before Nori could keep him any longer, he turned tail and darted off, heading back home. Glancing behind him, he saw Nori turning around to show off his newly-acquired feather to more people. To be fair, it was a very pretty feather– if Wren came across that bird, he might have to get one for himself. It’d go well with his golden apple.
Wren was making good pace. He knew the path back home well, and upon reaching the final stretch, he felt renewed with a new sense of vigor, and started running even faster than before. He was so excited! But as he ran, something made his ears perk up. An odd note, drifting in the wind– it definitely wasn’t a bird call. What was it? He slowed down, trying to get a better listen. It almost sounded like… someone was playing a song? But who could even be doing something like that, out here of all places? The sound was coming from up ahead, so it seemed like he would be getting an answer one way or another.
As he continued, the noise kept getting louder. It was definitely a song of some sort being played, though not a tune he recognized. A calm, languid melody, played against lush chords that sounded just lovely, even from a distance. He didn’t recognize the instrument that it was coming from, but the notes had a rich, reedy quality to them, like they were being pumped through a set of woodwinds in perfect unison. For a moment, Wren just stood there, totally enamored by the music, but then he remembered that he had to find the source of it! Determined, he bolted down the final bit of the trail, bursting out into the clearing that housed his home.
What he saw made him gasp. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Sitting atop the stump that was his home was… well, it looked like a bird, but it wore clothes and stood upright like a person! It was seven or eight feet tall, adorned with vibrant blue feathers, and a large, black beak that resembled a parrot’s. It looked to be wearing a scarf and a chestpiece, but much of its outfit was obscured by the instrument it was holding: a big, bulky accordion, which it was squeezing slowly and rhythmically to play the song that Wren had been hearing on the approach to the clearing.
For a moment, Wren could do nothing but stare in awe. He’d never seen anything– or, rather, anyone like this before. The bird was huge, imposing, its size demanding attention in the small clearing, yet with the way it played its soothing song… it had a peaceful aura about it. It was a giant, sure, but it seemed to be a gentle giant. At least, Wren hoped so. His gut told him that the bird would be friendly, so he took a deep breath, quelled his worries, and stepped out into the open.
“Excuse me! Hey! Big bird!” Wren yelled, waving his arms above his head, trying to get the bird’s attention. “You’re sitting on my house! How’d you even get here? Can you hear me?”
Oblivious, the bird kept on playing its tune. It couldn’t hear Wren’s tiny Picori voice over the sound of the accordion. Wren huffed in frustration. “Well, shoot… I’ll have to find some other way to get his attention.”
Wren thought for a moment, but he couldn’t think of anything besides just getting closer and trying from there. So, tentatively, he approached the great bird, walking until he reached the base of the stump it sat on. For a bird of its size, its legs were proportionally short, and Wren’s stump-home was decently tall, so the bird’s feet didn’t touch the ground as it sat. It had small leather coverings wrapping around the soles of its feet, held in place by tight straps, but besides those, its talons were bare, its sharp claws lazily hanging out in the open air. The sight of them made Wren shudder, but he knew that as long as he kept a safe distance from them, even the most sudden of the bird’s movements wouldn’t cause him harm.
Still, though, he was in quite the dilemma. Climbing up the bird’s legs wasn’t possible, though that probably wasn’t a very smart idea even if it was. He could try to get on top of the stump and get the bird’s attention from there, but he was at an even greater risk of being unwittingly squashed from there. If he wanted to be safe about it, he would have to get the bird’s attention from a distance, but his voice wasn’t an option, so…
“I know, I’ll chuck something at ‘im!” Wren declared. Without any further hesitation, he darted into the small hollow at the bottom of the stump– the main entrance to his home– looking for something he could lob. It’d have to be something small that he could easily throw, but hard enough that the bird would notice it if it hit it. Something round and ball-shaped would be best. Wren scanned the foyer, but nothing immediately caught his eye. He ran through the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, opening drawers and cupboards like mad, looking for suitable candidates, but he wasn’t finding anything that really satisfied him. Until, that is, he made it to his room and threw open the closet. He didn’t find just one candidate, but a whole barrel full of them!
“Aha!” he exclaimed, pulling one of the round, woody orbs out of the barrel and feeling its weight in his hands. “My stash of Jabber Nuts! Right!” Internally, he berated himself for not thinking of these sooner. Even if he had been able to get the bird’s attention, he would have needed one of these anyway, as the bird certainly wouldn’t have understood his language without it. The Jabber Nut allowed anyone who swallowed it to understand the Minish language– and, equally as importantly, it was ball-shaped and very hardy. Perfect for getting the attention of oblivious birds.
Wren chuckled to himself as he carried the Jabber Nut outside with him. “Alright, time to knock out two birds with one stone. Er… one bird with one nut, more accurately!” Nobody was around to hear it, but in his opinion, a joke like that was too clever not to say out loud. His giddiness faded, though, as he looked back up at the immense bird and was immediately reminded just how much larger it was than him. He was still trusting that it would be friendly, but if it wasn’t… well, he was very much prepared to make a quick escape into his home, but hopefully it wouldn’t have to come to that!
He took a few steps back, getting some distance from the bird while gauging the best place to aim his throw. The higher up he could hit, the better, so he was looking to aim for the head. If his throwing arm was strong enough to even chuck the nut that high, that is. Well, there was only one way to find out! Gauging things one last time, he gripped the nut, reared his arm back, and with all his might, sent it flying into the air!
Wren was impressed with himself as he watched the Jabber Nut fly through the air. It whizzed up in a high arc, careening towards the bird’s head, where it collided with the side of the bird’s hard beak. It resounded with a satisfying plunk, loud enough to be heard even over the bird’s accordion playing, much to Wren’s glee. And, indeed, it was enough to get the bird’s attention, as it abruptly stopped playing its accordion. It looked around from side to side in confusion, then down, its eyes lighting up as it noticed the nut that had just fallen into its lap. It picked it up, squinting at the small nut, which looked even tinier between its massive, feather-like fingers. Then, it opened its beak, allowing a small murmur of its voice to dribble out. “Now what in Hyrule is this…?”
The bird’s voice was soft and airy, but definitely masculine. Wren had had his suspicions that the bird was male, just based on looks alone, but he didn’t want to make assumptions, especially for a species as exotic as… whatever this bird-man was! The voice all but confirmed it, though, and what a voice it was! Even as the bird hummed and mumbled, pondering over the strange nut that had fallen into his lap, his voice had a warm, calming quality about it. For a moment, it almost made Wren forget what he had been trying to do in the first place. Almost.
Right! Now was his chance to get the bird’s attention! “HELLO! Mr. Bird! Can you hear me?” Wren shouted as loud as he could, jumping and waving his arms above his head, trying as hard as he could to get the bird to notice him. “Down here! Look, look!”
It took a second, but Wren saw the bird begin to look around, as if something had caught his ear. “What’s that squeaking?” He mumbled, before suddenly, his eyes happened to drift exactly where Wren was, and his face lit up with recognition. “Oh!” he gasped. “My goodness, just what are you?”
Wren smiled, proud of himself. “So you finally noticed me! Good going! My name’s Wren, it’s a pleasure to… oh, wait.” Right, the bird still couldn’t understand him– he still needed to eat the Jabber Nut. Wren racked his brain as to how he could communicate this to the bird without being able to speak, and the best he could come up with was by doing charades and hoping the bird could even tell what he was doing from there. Wren stretched his arms out as dramatically as he could, then pointed to his wide open mouth in an exaggerated fashion.
The bird tilted his head. “Little one, are you trying to tell me something?” He squinted, doing his best effort to pick up on the tiny Picori’s motions. “It’s… your mouth?”
Wren shook his head, then pointed at the bird. “Me?” the bird asked. “Oh, do you mean my beak? What about it?” The bird rested his chin in his hand, mulling it over. Wren could almost see the cogs turning behind the bird’s eyes– he could tell he was thinking about it very intently. Slowly, the bird looked over his other hand, the one that had been holding the Jabber Nut. It was still there, pinched snugly between his fingers. “You were the one that threw this at me, weren’t you?” The bird asked. “Do you want me to eat it? Is that what you’re asking?”
Wren nodded eagerly. The bird had understood him surprisingly quickly, how impressive!
“Well, alright then. Wouldn’t be the first thing I blindly gobbled up today, anyway.” The bird spared no time in popping the Jabber Nut straight into his beak. Wren heard the faint sound of a swallow, but the nut was so miniscule compared to the bird, it didn’t even make a visible bulge in his throat. “Now, that’s not going to do anything bad, is it?” The bird laughed. “Perhaps I’m too trusting.”
Wren hesitated to respond. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for the effects of the Jabber Nut to activate. There was a brief moment of silence, then Wren realized it was probably awkward of him to just stand there and stare at the bird like he was. “Oh!” he blurted. “No, no, nothing bad. If you can understand me talking now, then, well… that’s what it did! Can you–”
He was interrupted by a sudden gasp from the bird. “Goddesses above! You’re speaking!” he exclaimed, staring at Wren with his beak slightly ajar. “Um… sorry, but I didn’t catch any of that. You caught me off guard there! Is that what that little seed did, let me understand you?”
“I certainly didn’t expect to startle you, my apologies,” Wren giggled. “But yes, that’s exactly it! That was a Jabber Nut– it allows you to understand Minish, and it amplifies the voice of those who speak it, too, so I don’t have to yell. It’s very convenient.”
The bird blinked, taking a moment to process all that he had just heard. “Well, I’d have to agree there. That is useful!” He leaned down in his seat, bringing his head closer in order to get a better look at Wren. “Now, may I ask with whom I have the pleasure of speaking to, exactly?”
Wren grinned. “The name’s Wren, don’t forget it! I’m a Picori– or Minish, either term is fine. But I prefer Picori, personally. It has a nicer ring to it.”
“Picori…” the bird breathed, trying out the word on his tongue. “Fascinating. I’ve never heard of your kind before. Do you know of the Rito?”
“Is that what you are?” Wren asked.
“Yes,” the bird nodded. “We’re a people of Hyrule, which I’d say isn’t far from here, but… for someone of your size that might be a different story!” He chuckled to himself. “Ah, lest I forget introductions– my name is Kass. It’s nice to meet you, Wren.”
“Same to you, Kass!” Wren chirped. “Heh, y’know, it’s funny how one of us here is named after a bird, and it isn’t you.”
That earned a hearty guffaw from Kass. “Ha, indeed! Now, Wren…” he paused for a brief moment, looking at the tiny Picori inquisitively. “Was there any particular reason you wanted to speak with me? I imagine you wouldn’t go out of your way to get my attention for no reason. Did my music catch your ear, maybe? I could play you a song if you’d like.”
“I did hear your music from afar! It sounded quite enchanting, you seem to be very talented at the accordion. But even if I hadn’t heard you playing, I would’ve come here anyway,” Wren explained, “because, er, you see… you’re kind of sitting on top of my house right now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Kass blurted. Suddenly, the bird leapt to his feet, hopping off of the stump and landing on the ground with a dull thud. Well, it sounded dull to him– from Wren’s perspective, his huge feet came crashing down onto the ground, quaking the earth beneath them. Wren was physically jolted, and it took a moment for him to get his bearings afterwards, upon which he was greeted with the sight of Kass’ dark, pointy talons dangerously close to him. Looking up didn’t give him a much more flattering view, either; Kass’ puffed-out chest blotted out the light from above, replacing the high-up canopy of leaves and branches with one of feathers and fabric.
“K-Kass!” Wren shouted, dismayed. “Be more careful, would you!?”
Above, Kass was frantically swiveling his head, looking for where Wren had gone. Upon hearing the tiny Picori’s voice coming from below, he looked straight down, having to crouch and shuffle back somewhat to even see where Wren was. “Oh, goodness! Wren, are you alright? Did I scare you? Perhaps I shouldn’t have moved so suddenly… I’m terribly sorry.”
Wren grumbled. “It’s… fine. But why’d you even jump down like that to begin with? Your feet got way too close for comfort there…”
“Again, I’m dreadfully sorry,” Kass said remorsefully. “It’s just– you said I was sitting on your house, and that seemed inappropriate of me.”
“I never said you had to get off of it. I was just pointing it out. I mean, my home’s a stump. That’s about as sturdy of a seat as you can get. You can sit back down if you want, go right ahead,” Wren said hurriedly.
Kass shook his head. “No, no. I’ve been sitting there for long enough. And I think I have a better idea.” Delicately, he lowered one of his hands to the ground, palm facing upwards, right beside Wren. Wren looked at him worriedly, but after a brief moment of hesitation, the Picori climbed into his hand, sitting on his palm and holding onto one of his fingers to keep steady. The bird’s feathers provided a comfortable cushion for Wren to rest on as Kass gently lifted his arm up, bringing Wren up to the height of his waist. He then turned back to the stump, which he rested his hand on top of, allowing the Picori to hop down onto it safely.
Kass sat down on the dirt, his legs criss-crossed. He was still looking down on Wren, but the height difference wasn’t nearly as drastic now. “There we are!” he said proudly. “This is better, isn’t it? Now we can see more eye-to-eye.”
“I suppose it is,” Wren admitted, “but I could have climbed up here by myself, you know.”
Kass chuckled. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? I think my way was more efficient.”
“Hmph. Maybe so,” Wren huffed, and decided to sit down like Kass was. The wood of the stump was hard underneath him, but not uncomfortable, and it was oddly warm. Looking up at the huge bird in front of him still made his throat clench a bit, but he was starting to feel more relaxed in his presence. “Um… Now, Kass, may I ask what you’re doing here? You said you were from Hyrule, right?”
“Why, yes, I am from Hyrule!” Kass grinned, eager to answer Wren’s question. “I was born and raised in Rito Village, which is quite the lovely place, especially so with my wife and children keeping me company. But, well, that’s the thing… for the past five years, I almost never left the village, feeling as if I was obligated to stay there and take care of things after my absence.”
“Absence?” Wren asked.
Kass nodded. “I had to be away for a while. It was for an important reason, yet I felt guilty about it, leaving Amali and the girls for so long…” He sighed. “But once that quest of mine was finally complete, I had a new task: to make up for the time I was away, and be the best father and husband I could be. And I’d say things have gone pretty much perfectly over the last five years. I’ve gotten to see my daughters grow up, become more mature and independent– I’m so proud of them! Gosh, it’s only been a few days, and I already miss them so… my wife, too, I almost want to fly back right now, just to see her beautiful face, but–”
“Kass,” Wren said sternly. He knew he had to interrupt, or this bird was just going to keep on rambling. It was very sweet, yes, but it was still rambling. “You’ve still not explained why you’re here.”
“Oh! Yes, right!” Kass blurted. “I was, er, just getting to it. Ahem, as I was saying… my life was wonderful, but as time went on, a yearning feeling started bubbling up within me. And old passion resurfacing, one might say. I was beginning to itch for the far expanse of the outside world, to take flight in the open skies as I had previously. I hadn’t had the chance to really spread my wings in years, and with my children growing up and being able to better take care of themselves, I figured it would be okay to finally go out and explore the world again! And this time, I’d be able to come back home as soon as I got lonely, instead of being forced to stay away for months on end. So… well, that’s why I’m here! I just flew wherever the wind took me, and I ended up in this lovely little forest of yours.”
Wren arched his brow. “So, that’s it? You’re just here because you wanted to explore?”
“Do you not find that a satisfying answer?” Kass asked.
“No, no, it makes sense, but…” Wren pointed a finger at the bird in an accusatory fashion. “You landing in this forest is all well and good, but how did you end up here, at my home? We Picori keep ourselves very hidden and secluded; not even a wild animal could find this clearing of mine, I’m sure of it. I don’t know how you could just stumble in here.”
Kass laughed nervously. “Wren, you’re overthinking it. I just took the path less traveled every chance I could, and I ended up where I am now. I’d say I did a pretty good job of exploring.”
“You’re sure nothing led you here?” Wren pressed. “I only ask because I’m worried that if you could find this place, less friendly creatures might be able to make their way here, too.”
“Ah. Well, in truth…” Kass paused, looking away from him. It almost seemed like he didn’t want to give a reply, but after a brief moment, he continued speaking. “My beak led me here. There was a sweet scent in the air, and I followed it. But it’s, uh, gone now. You oughtn’t worry about it.”
A sweet scent? Kass’ words were only confusing Wren further. What could the bird have even smelled? The only sweet thing he owned that he could think of was his bag full of rock candy, which he’d stored securely in…
Oh no.
The realization hit him like a boulder. How had he forgotten about his precious golden apple!? Well, it was actually pretty obvious why he’d forgotten– Kass’ presence had stolen all of his attention since he’d gotten back home– but now that his focus was back on the apple, a deep worry was starting to set in. He’d left the apple on top of his stump, precisely where he was right now, but it wasn’t there anymore. There was a pretty likely explanation as to where it had gone, only evidenced further by the anxious look on the bird’s face in front of him, but he really, really didn’t want it to be true.
“…Kass,” Wren said slowly, trying his best to keep his cool.
Kass looked back down at him, a ginger smile on the corners of his beak. “Yes, Wren?”
“I left something on this stump when I went to town earlier,” the Picori continued. “It was an apple. A golden one, no less, which was very important to me. Do you happen to know where it went?”
“Oh, that was yours?” Kass asked, though Wren could tell he already knew that. “Um, well… yes, I did see it. It was quite the sight, frankly– I’d never seen a golden apple in person before, I thought they were a myth of some kind.”
Wren looked Kass sternly in the eye. “You’re dodging the question. What did you do with it?”
“Well, I did what anyone would do upon seeing such a sight,” Kass said sheepishly. “I, er… ate it.”
With those words, everything came crashing down. Wren had wanted so desperately to believe that his apple was fine, but the bird’s confession shattered his hope and then stomped on it. “No, no!” Wren shouted. “You can’t have eaten it! Say it isn’t true!”
“Look, Wren, I’m really sorry,” Kass mumbled. “I can find you another one if you’d like. I know they’re rare, but–”
“It’s not just about the apple!” Wren interrupted. “Kass, how didn’t you notice that there was stuff inside of the apple? I was carving it out, making it into… I’m not even sure how to put it. It’s like… a fancy bedframe! My mattress was in there, along with my journal, and, and… look, these things just aren't replaceable! How didn’t you notice!?”
Kass gawped. “There were things inside of it!?” He put a hand on his stomach, as if it were suddenly hurting. “Maybe I should have looked at it more closely… I kind of just scarfed it down in one bite. I was eager, okay?”
“Wait, you’re telling me you ate the whole thing in one bite?” Wren asked, starting to feel light-headed from all of the shouting he was doing. “I know you’re huge, but I have trouble believing that.”
“I have a beak, Wren. I can’t exactly chew. I’m used to swallowing things in big chunks.”
“So you didn’t even chew? Wait, hold on…” The gears in the little Picori’s brain were starting to turn. “Kass, how long ago did you eat the apple? It can’t have been that long.”
Kass scratched his head. “You’re right that it was fairly recent. I don’t know, maybe fifteen, twenty minutes ago? Time kind of flies when you get lost in the music…”
“The exact time isn’t super important! What matters is– do you think you could cough it up? It’s still probably mostly intact in there. Even if I could only salvage the stuff inside of it now, I’d be happy.”
“Well…” Kass frowned. “I’m certainly not as experienced as a wild bird when it comes to regurgitating my food, but it’s worth a try.”
The bird took a deep breath, steeling himself. He placed his hands on his upper stomach, squeezed his eyes shut, and began making strained, guttural noises from the depths of his throat. His body shuddered, and Wren could tell he was really trying his hardest to regurgitate the contents of his stomach.
Wren could also tell he had no idea what he was doing.
“Kass, I don’t think that’s going to work,” Wren said sternly. “Why don’t you try just activating your gag reflex?”
Kass opened his eyes and gave Wren a confused look. “Gag reflex?”
Wren grumbled impatiently. “You know, that thing that makes you barf? It should trigger if you poke your uvula.”
“I… don’t think I have one of those,” Kass said.
“Which one, the gag reflex or the uvula?”
The bird scratched his head. “I’ve got a uvula… at least, I’m fairly sure that I do. I don’t look other Rito in the beaks that often, but I’ve definitely seen that they have them. What I’m more certain of is that I don’t have a gag reflex. I mean, I can swallow anything that fits in my beak just fine, so why would I need one?”
“Can you just try it anyway? Please?” Wren pleaded.
Kass gave a quick nod. “Alright.” He opened his beak slightly, sticking his pointer finger inside of it. He ended up having to open it quite a bit wider as the rest of his hand followed it in, his finger worming its way deep within. Wren couldn’t see inside Kass’ beak from where he stood, but he could tell Kass was really trying to poke as far back as he could, especially with the muffled choking noises he was making. The bird kept at it for the better half of a minute, but eventually he drew his finger back out, the digit coated with a thick layer of saliva that connected to his tongue with several droopy strings of drool. Kass didn’t say anything, only giving the Picori a solemn look.
Okay, so that didn’t work. Wren put his head in his hands and groaned in frustration. He didn’t want to give up, but what else was there to do? If Kass couldn’t regurgitate the apple, there wasn’t any way of getting it out of his stomach. It seemed hopeless. Completely, utterly hopeless.
But he had to think of something. If there wasn’t any way Kass could get it out himself, surely there was something he could do. Surely the big bird wasn’t completely incapable of barfing, right? He almost wanted to climb in the bird’s beak and treat his uvula (assuming he had one) like a punching bag until he upchucked the apple. Deep down, though, he knew that that almost certainly wouldn’t work. But he couldn’t think of anything else, except…
No, he couldn’t do that. That’s completely, utterly ridiculous. Pretty much a death wish.
Oh, but he had to.
“Kass!” Wren shouted suddenly. “Wait right there! I’ll be right back!”
“What are you…?” Kass trailed off, watching as Wren zoomed into the entrance of his stump. Inside, Wren could be heard running around frantically, his footsteps making barely-audible pitter-patters. Then, a loud clattering sound could be heard, followed by more footsteps, heavier this time, until Wren reappeared from the stump’s entrance, holding a spool of thread that was as large as his body over his head.
Wren carried the spool to the top of the stump and set it down. Kass watched as he unraveled the end of it and began looping it around his waist, tying it in a snug knot. “Wren, what’s that for?” Kass asked curiously.
“It isn’t obvious?” Wren said. “Listen, I need you to hold the spool, and don’t let go, alright?”
Kass silently obliged, delicately grasping the spool between his thumb and finger. He lifted it carefully, making sure the thread unraveled properly so he didn’t drag Wren along with it as he brought it closer to his body. With the spool firmly in his grasp, Kass gave the Picori a concerned look. “Wren, please tell me you’re not about to do what I think you’re going to do.”
“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” Wren replied through gritted teeth, “but I have to go in.”
“No, you most certainly do not!” Kass squawked in objection. “Wren, that’s an insane idea! You are not going into my stomach! What if something happens to you?”
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. You have to understand how important this is to me,” Wren insisted. “Besides, I’ll be safe! That’s what the string’s for. If I need pulled out, I’ll just give it a tug. Foolproof, right?”
Kass shook his head in protest. “Wren, you know a thousand things could go wrong. Are you really, really sure?”
Wren looked Kass squarely in the eyes. “Absolutely. Come on, Kass, it’ll be quick. Just in and out with an apple in tow. I’ll do my best not to die.”
“That’s not very reassuring…” Kass said, looking away. “But… if you insist, I’ll let you do it. This is my fault in the first place, so it wouldn’t be fair of me to stop you.”
Wren let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’m glad we could come to an understanding. Now, open up, will you?”
“Hey, hey, slow down!” Kass objected. “One step at a time.” The bird opened up his free hand, laying it flat and lowering it down to Wren’s level, allowing him to climb on. He then lifted his hand up to his head, but he hesitated, not opening his beak.
Wren tapped his foot impatiently. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
“Sorry, I just have to… mentally prepare,” Kass said with a heavy exhale through his nostrils. With how close to the bird’s beak Wren was, it rustled his tunic a bit.
“Believe me, I’m not thrilled about this either,” Wren grumbled. “But it must be done.”
“If it must.” And with that, Kass began to gingerly open his beak. A wave of hot, humid breath washed over Wren, who couldn’t help but stare wide-eyed and frozen in place at the view that was unfolding in front of him.
Wren had been able to get short glimpses inside Kass’ beak as he’d talked, but those glimpses didn’t compare in the slightest to what he was seeing right then. The pink, fleshy expanse seemed to stretch impossibly wide with how close he was to the beak, his view dominated by the palate and huge, meaty tongue that framed the entrance to the abyss that was Kass’ throat. Light reflected off of the excess of saliva in the bird’s beak, giving it a bright, sparkling sheen, but it got darker and darker the further back in the maw one looked. It was rather ominous… after all, it was meant to be a point of no return. Food goes down there. Small, intelligent woodland creatures were very much not supposed to go down there.
Suddenly, the beak closed up with a quiet clack, snapping Wren out of the trance he was in. “Wren?” Kass asked softly. “Are you having second thoughts?”
Wren gulped nervously. He wondered if Kass could tell that he was sweating. If anything, he might be able to taste it very soon. “M-my bad. Turns out I need a second to mentally prepare for this, too.” He took a deep breath. “But I’m not turning back. Open up again.”
Kass silently complied, cracking open his beak. Wren was faced with the view of the bird’s mouth once again. The dark throat was still a frightening sight, so he couldn't help but avert his gaze from it, instead looking down at the tongue that sprawled out before him like a pink carpet. The gullet was a problem for later, he told himself– for now, he just had to take things one step at a time.
The tongue rested flat on the floor of Kass’ beak. It quivered slightly, almost as if it was eagerly anticipating Wren’s presence. Wren, on the other hand, was not so eager. Tentatively, he stepped towards the edge of Kass’ beak. He started by sticking his leg out, his foot crossing into the mouth and hovering over the bird’s awaiting tongue. As a Picori, he didn’t wear shoes, so he really was about to step on it with his bare foot. Goddesses above, this was going to be gross… he steeled himself, and very gently–
Squelch. He planted his foot down. The bird’s tongue unconsciously reacted, lifting slightly in response to being poked, only causing his foot to be pressed into the flesh even more firmly. It felt just as weird as Wren expected, like he was walking on a mattress filled with mud. It was wet, sticky, bumpy, and uncomfortably warm. Every nerve in his body was telling him to lift his foot up, to get it off of this slimy, living surface, but he knew that that would be wholly unproductive. That would just result in him having to put his foot back down and endure the grossly tactile sensation all over again– it was in his best interest to just press onward and get this over with. He lifted his other foot, stepping off of Kass’ hand and fully into the beak, planting that foot into the tongue as well. The tongue reacted to the new point of contact with a tiny twitch, almost knocking him completely off-balance, but he managed to steady himself after a bit of frantic arm-flailing, saving himself from the undignified fate of face-planting onto the tongue.
As he stood in place getting his bearings, he noticed the ceiling above him– the roof of Kass’ mouth– start to lower. Kass didn’t close his mouth completely, still leaving it partially open to let some light in, but it still made things a fair bit dimmer and more cramped for the Picori inside. It took a moment for Wren’s eyes to adjust, and as they did, he set his sights on the back of the mouth. The tongue was somewhat inclined, with the part that disappeared into the throat being slightly raised, as well as being thicker, wider, and peppered with large bumps. A pair of protruding tonsils adorned the sides of the throat, contracting and expanding with each of the bird’s slow breaths, and above the tongue, attached to the roof of the mouth at the throat, was a wobbly, dangling uvula.
So he did have one of those. Maybe the gag reflex idea still had some merit.
Wren took a step forward, then another. It was a delicate ordeal, having to steady himself with each step as the living muscle he was balanced on jittered and trembled like it had a mind of its own. As he neared the back of the tongue, he noticed the roof of mouth was on a downward incline, and he was able to reach up and touch the hard palate. The feeling of slick flesh sliding against his fingers was hardly pleasant, but compared to the tongue he was standing on, it was much firmer and drier, and the extra point of contact helped him keep his balance much more easily. So, he kept his arm raised as he continued forward. He could feel the ceiling above him sway up and down ever-so-slightly, in sync with Kass’ breathing as he held his beak ajar. Wren appreciated that the bird was doing his best to stay as still as possible, but there were still these unconscious movements that couldn't be helped, and they were forcing him to move very delicately and gradually, lest he slip and fall. He was beginning to worry that he was taking too long, as every second that he spent dawdling was another second that his apple spent stewing in Kass’ belly. Maybe he ought to hurry it up.
Looking ahead of himself, Wren locked his eyes on Kass’ uvula. It hung in place, peaceful and undisturbed, gently swaying back and forth in rhythm with the bird’s breathing. It was only a few paces in front of him– he could nearly reach out and touch it– and it would likely make for a much better handhold than anything he’d come across in the beak so far. If he just jumped forward a bit, he could probably wrap his arms around it to catch himself. That would save a bit of time. He just had to be careful not to miss and splat face-first into the tongue, or worse, overshoot and tumble down the throat prematurely. He tried not to think about that possibility.
Wren crouched, compressing himself like a spring, took a moment to make sure his balance and trajectory were perfect, and then, at last, he leaped! The cushiony tongue was pushed down as he springboarded off of it, which unfortunately for him, ended up absorbing most of his momentum. He didn’t fly nearly as far as he expected, and he panicked midair as he only had a split-second to try and salvage his failed launch. He desperately extended his arms, attempting to grab the uvula to catch himself, and it sort of half-worked– he landed on his knees with a splash, while his upper body collided with the uvula in a haphazard hug. His face and chest ended up pressing into the fleshy surface, drenching him in gooey saliva. Great, so much for not getting soaked.
With a grumble, Wren pulled himself back up onto his feet, using the uvula to keep himself steady. Being right up against it, it was bigger than he expected, being about as thick as his torso, or maybe even a little bigger. And while it was the closest thing to an anchor point he’d had inside this cavernous beak, it still wavered back and forth precariously, forcing him to squeeze it a little more tightly than he’d like. The flesh of the uvula was spongy and wet just like the tongue, but it was firmer, more resilient to being squished. Still not exactly pleasant to the touch, in Wren’s opinion, but he could put up with it.
What’s with this thing, anyway? Wren wondered. Why does he even have one if he doesn’t have a gag reflex? He squeezed the uvula a little bit harder, trying to see if it would stir any kind of reaction. Maybe it wasn’t entirely vestigial, and he could induce vomiting if he prodded it intensely enough. But no matter how he squished, shoved, and twisted it, it didn’t seem to do a thing. Damn it, was he really going to have to–
“Hey, Wren?”
Kass’ sudden words startled Wren, causing his grip to tighten– not just out of surprise, but out of necessity. As the bird spoke, his tongue lashed and convulsed, completely rocking the poor Picori’s world. Even with just those two words, Wren was hanging onto the uvula for dear life while his feet scrambled for purchase below him. When the tongue finally settled, he was able to set his feet back down and catch his breath. After a brief moment of respite, he opened his mouth to reply to the bird, but then he had a thought. If Kass was going to keep on talking, it would be wise not to have to rely on the tongue for stability at all. So, with a tiny hop and some belabored self-hoisting, he climbed onto the uvula, his arms and legs wrapped around it in a full-body embrace.
“What is it, Kass?” Wren belatedly replied.
“I’m just checking in,” Kass said, a concerned waver in his voice. Wren watched as his tongue writhed into action once again, now from a safe distance. The bird’s words jostled the uvula a little, but it was still a lot more manageable than being on the tongue. “Are you alright in there?”
“I’m fine, mostly. You kind of startled me.”
“Oh, sorry!” Kass gasped. “I wanted to give a warning, but I couldn’t think of a way how.”
Wren sighed. “Don’t worry about it. But, um, also, could you maybe tone down the volume? My ears are ringing here.”
“Oh!” Kass yelped, before quickly realizing his mistake. “…Sorry again,” he whispered. “I guess I didn’t consider just how close you were to my windpipe. I wanted to ask what you were doing back there, anyway.”
“Well, as it turns out, you do have a uvula. Can you feel me touching it?” Wren asked, giving it a gentle prod to emphasize his statement. “I was trying to see if I could activate your gag reflex, but… no dice.”
“Yes, I can feel you poking around back there,” Kass replied. “It’s odd, but I wouldn’t call it… unpleasant.” He paused for a moment, taking his time before making a fuller assessment of the sensation. “That part of my mouth is more sensitive than I realized. But unfortunately, whatever you’re doing isn’t seeming to make me want to throw up.”
Wren frowned. “I suspected as much. I guess that means…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought.
A murmur of concern crept up from Kass’ throat. “Again, Wren, are you really sure about this? This is your last chance to back out.”
“I have to, Kass! I’ve come this far already,” Wren asserted. He fiddled with the thread around his waist, making sure it was completely, 100% secure. “I’m ready, I just need you to swallow me now.”
“Swallow you?” Kass blurted. “Do I have to? Can you not just… you know, drop down?”
“I don’t think I can fall down your throat on my own. If my knowledge of anatomy serves me right…” He stopped himself. What good did that knowledge serve him when he could just look down and confirm his suspicions directly? His eyes darted downward, and immediately, he was reminded why he’d been avoiding looking down into the throat. A wave of vertigo washed over him– below him was a pit that descended into near-total darkness, ridged rings of flesh spiraling in a descent to the bird’s stomach. Wren found himself clutching the uvula harder than ever before, not wanting to slip and fall– even though he knew he’d soon be traveling down that path anyway– but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that it wasn’t a straight shot down, but rather a junction, with one passage being much wider than the other. “…Okay, yeah, there it is. Your breathing gear’s blocking the way down.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” Wren watched as the vocal cords flapped as Kass spoke– it was a bizarre sight, to say the least, but it was fascinating to watch all the same. “So,” the bird continued, “if you fell down right now, you’d end up in my windpipe instead of my stomach?”
Wren nodded, then realized his nodding wasn’t to much effect since Kass couldn’t see him. “Er, yes. And I’m not too keen on being a choking hazard. So I think it’s best if you just swallow me.”
“Is that really the only way? I imagine it’ll be uncomfortable for you, and I don’t want to treat you like a piece of food–”
“Just do it already!” Wren interrupted, anxious to get it over with. In his impatience, he hopped off of the uvula, landing back on the tongue, teetering just over the edge of the throat like a morsel to be gulped down. “Have we not wasted enough time? My apple won’t last forever in your stomach, you know!”
A heavy sigh washed over Wren, nearly knocking him over. “Alright, alright,” Kass relented. “Brace yourself.”
Wren didn’t have even a second to think before the whole world suddenly lurched around him. The back of the tongue jolted upwards, turning into a slope that shoved him head-first towards the throat. He grazed the tonsils, which squished inwards to momentarily break his fall, only for the uvula to plunge downward to push him past, along with the base of the tongue and the walls of the throat squeezing him in a tight, controlled descent, sending him straight down the esophagus. Swallowed effortlessly by a giant.
The poor Picori was compressed so firmly by muscle that he could barely even squirm. All he could do was wait to arrive at his dreaded destination, but even that felt like it was taking forever. Everything was dark, it felt uncomfortably tight and slimy, and his ears were filled with nothing but a cacophony of squelching spittle against flesh all around him. Though he did start to pick up on a new sound as he descended deeper– a bassy th-thump, reverberating about once a second, like a ticking clock. That must be the bird’s heartbeat, he reasoned, though he was surprised by its slow rhythm compared to his own racing heart. The beat became louder, then quieter, as he passed through the bird’s chest, which told him that he was just about to enter the stomach.
His descent slowed, and he saw a glimpse of warm light ahead of him as the entrance to the stomach opened up to squeeze him through. Wait, light? Where would light be coming from inside of a stomach, of all places? He didn’t have any time to think about that, however, before he was abruptly pushed through the esophageal sphincter into the stomach. And then he was falling.
Wren flailed around helplessly mid-air, though thankfully, the fall didn’t last long– he landed after only a split second, face-planting onto something smooth and hard. As he sat up and got his bearings, he realized what he had landed on: his apple! Oh, thank goodness, it was his apple! Its golden sheen was as beautiful and perfect as he remembered it, and it seemed to be wholly in one piece, its skin unbroken, even being still upright with its stem at the very top. Honestly, the condition it was in was nothing short of a miracle considering it had been stewing in a stomach for who-knows-how-long.
Now, Wren couldn’t celebrate yet. He was still in a stomach, after all. This wasn’t exactly a safe place… for good measure, he checked the string around his waist. Still secure. That gave him enough confidence to stand up and check out his surroundings more. He peered over the edge of the apple, looking down at the bottom of the stomach. There was a shallow pool of translucent liquid, which he surmised to be digestive juices, and floating within them was the Jabber Nut he’d thrown at Kass earlier. Interestingly, despite the bird not having chewed, the nut appeared to be split open, and glowing red fumes were wafting out from the crack in its shell.
Is that where the light is coming from? Wren wondered. That’s lucky for me. It’d be a lot harder to do anything in here if it was pitch-black. And I might be the first person to ever see a Jabber Nut’s magic in action. It’s interesting that its magic seemingly activated despite it not having been digested… I guess it wouldn’t be as fast-acting as it was if it needed to be fully processed. Can it somehow sense that it’s been swallowed?
He made a mental note to jot these findings down in his journal later. Oh, but that reminded him– his journal! It was still in the apple, along with his other belongings! He ought to check if everything was still intact. He looked over the edge of the apple again, trying to find the hole he’d chiseled in it. Though, he was having a strangely difficult time finding it…
“Wren?”
Kass’ voice echoed, startling him. The bird’s speaking voice was muffled, yet it sounded like it was coming from every direction at once. “Wren, can you hear me? It’s been about a minute since I swallowed you. Everything alright in there?”
Good grief, was that disorienting to listen to. “I can hear you! I’m fine!” Wren shouted as loudly as he could, but his voice felt quiet in comparison to the bird’s heartbeat, breathing, and the groaning of his noisy gut.
His concerns that his voice wouldn’t be heard were thankfully dashed, though, as Kass quickly responded. “You don’t have to yell, I can hear you loud and clear! But that’s very good!” It seemed the Jabber Nut’s magic did an even better job at amplifying his voice than he thought. “The apple is still intact, I hope?”
“Actually, yeah. It doesn’t look like there’s any damage, even at the bottom where it’s sitting in your stomach acids,” Wren replied.
“Really? That’s surprising. I would’ve expected it to be at least a little melted by now.”
“An ordinary apple likely would be. But golden apples are blessed by a fairy’s magic; not only are they extra delicious and have rejuvenating properties, but their skin is super strong and their flesh never rots. I’m sure the acid would eventually eat away at it, especially if it were to get into the hole that I carved. But your stomach also seems to be inactive right now, so it’s not like it’s trying very hard to digest it either.”
“Oh, very interesting! I was wondering about that. Now it makes a lot more sense that you were trying to turn it into a piece of furniture,” Kass remarked. “And it’s also a good thing that my belly’s not acting up right now. Probably makes things a lot easier for you.” There was a brief moment of silence. “Say… what’s it like in there, anyway? Just curious.”
“Well…” Wren wasn’t really sure how to put it into words. Especially when there was so much that he could describe. The way that the wrinkly flesh of the stomach walls slowly undulated, with mucus and fluids dripping off of every surface, which pooled at the bottom where they bubbled and sloshed around at any slight movement. The cacophony of noise, from churning liquids to squelching flesh, to the resonant rhythm of Kass’ heart and lungs. The stuffy heat and humid air. And the slight acrid stench… which was certainly the least pleasant out of any sensation that was bombarding him at the moment. Not that any of the other sensations were pleasant, no, no, definitely not! This would be the only time he’d ever visit a stomach, that’s for sure. Or, at least, he hoped so.
“It’s hot. Muggy. Everything’s slimy. And your gut may be inactive, but damn is it loud. I definitely wouldn’t want to be in here if it were actually digesting something… for a lot of reasons besides the noise, too, but you get what I mean.”
“Gosh. Well, I hope you’re holding up alright in there. That sounds like an assault on the senses.” Kass replied softly. “Oh, and Wren, another question– what’s your plan to get the apple out? Tie your string around it and then have me pull?”
“That’s pretty much it, yeah,” Wren affirmed. “Good that we’re on the same page. But before we do that, I just want to check the inside of the apple. Shouldn’t take long, though I’m having a bit of trouble finding the hole I made at the moment…”
“Take your time, then,” Kass said. “Actually, wait, no– try to be quick. I don’t want you staying in there for too long. This is risky enough as it is.”
“Don’t worry so much, Kass,” Wren reassured. “Everything’s going a lot better than I expected. I don’t think it’s that urgent.”
The bird sighed. “Still, there’s no reason to dilly-dally. I can’t imagine it’s pleasant to be in there. And having this string in my throat is kinda uncomfortable, you know…”
Ah, so there was his true motive. Wren rolled his eyes. The bird could survive for a few extra minutes. Not like this was going to take long anyway, it was just a matter of finding the… oh, there it was!
The golden apple wasn’t completely free-standing in the stomach– it was leaning against one of the walls, which was the only thing keeping it from tipping over. And as it so happened, the hole that Wren had carved in the apple was facing that very wall, partially obscured by the slimy gut lining. And he’d have to push past it in order to get in there… he sighed. Might as well get it over with.
Using the string to steadily lower himself, he started to climb down the side of the apple. There wasn’t much distance he had to go, but he took things extra slowly to ensure that he wouldn’t slip. As he approached the hole, the space between the apple and the stomach wall became smaller and smaller, and Wren soon found himself sandwiched between the two– the feeling on his back was that of dripping ooze and uncomfortable warmness, not to mention how the rippling flesh seemed eager to press against him, as if it noticed his presence and wanted to inspect him closer. Wren took that as his cue to hurry it up, and with some effort, he shoved his way through the final stretch and managed to wriggle his way into the hole.
It was dim inside, as it seemed like the Jabber Nut’s light didn’t reach into the hole, especially with the stomach wall blocking most of the entrance. It took Wren a few moments for his eyes to adjust and see just how much of a mess it was! His mattress was the only thing in its proper spot, while his blankets were strewn about, his journal was wedged in an awkward corner, his lamp was knocked over… he hastily tidied everything up, and much to his relief, all of his belongings seemed to be accounted for.
Happy to see that he hadn’t lost anything, Wren took his leave, squeezing his way past the stomach lining for a second (and hopefully final) time and climbing back up to the top of the apple. Now, there was only one thing left to do.
Wren gripped the string around his waist and began to untie it. It was rather difficult, with how tight he’d made the knot to begin with, but eventually he managed to free himself. He still held the string, but now, there was nothing anchoring him to the outside world. If there was any point where things could go wrong, it would be now. Very cautiously, he knelt down and tied the loose string around the stem of the apple, triple-knotting it for good measure.
“Alright, Kass,” he said, a nervous tremble in his voice. “I’ve got the apple fastened to the string. It’s ready to get pulled up when I give the command.”
“Is that so?” Kass replied. “Just to be sure… you’re completely, totally certain that everything’s in order? I’ll try my best to be gentle pulling you up, but if anything goes wrong…”
“It should be good to go,” Wren reassured. “It’s tied up super tight. And I’m holding on with all my might, don’t you worry!” He gripped the stem firmly, situating himself in the small divot around the stem for maximum security. It’d take something fierce to knock him off. “I’m ready when you are.”
“Okay. Just give me your word.”
“Alright, on the count of three.” Wren took one last deep breath and braced himself. “One… two… thr–”
Before he could even finish the word, Wren’s entire world lurched beneath him. The wind was knocked out of him as the string was yanked upward, apple and Picori in tow, promptly smashing into the roof of the stomach. The top of the apple squished against the esophageal sphincter, and that unfortunately meant that Wren was squished against it, too. He was pressed more tightly than ever before against the firm yet slimy flesh as Kass continued to tug, attempting to force the apple through. It seemed like it wasn’t going to work, with the agitated sphincter remaining firmly shut, but after a few more yanks, it suddenly widened, causing Wren to be rocketed upwards once again as the apple finally squeezed its way through.
Wren watched as the flesh of the esophagus stretched above him as he ascended. It was a very similar view to when he had been swallowed down, just in reverse this time. Considering how tight the tube had felt as it had squeezed him down the first time, it was astonishing how much it could expand in order to accommodate something as large as the apple, though since Kass couldn’t chew, that was likely by design.
It only took a few seconds for the apple to reach the peak of its ascent, emerging at the back of Kass’ throat, though to Wren it felt much longer than that– it was impossible to tell where in the gullet he was as he was coming up, and he was hyper-focused on holding on tight to the apple stem. But as the apple passed from the throat to the mouth, it turned abruptly onto its side, being pulled forward by the stem instead of upward. Despite Wren hanging onto the stem as tightly as he could, he wasn’t prepared for this sudden lurch, and he lost his grip. He tumbled backwards as the apple slid underneath him. He grazed the side of the apple as well as Kass’ soft palate, but both were too smooth for him to get a proper foothold, especially with how he was spinning and flailing around.
His trajectory was stopped as his back crashed into something soft and sticky. Looking down, Wren realized that he was just above the bird’s yawning gullet, so he must be on the uvula once again– and he also realized that saliva wasn’t much of an adhesive, and he was starting to slip! He quickly scrambled to turn around and get a hold on the uvula, squeezing it tightly with both of his arms and his legs in order to slow his descent, and he managed to come to a stop just before his feet slipped off of the bottom of the dangling lobe. His heart was still pounding in his ears and his breathing was heavy, but he was safe at last.
The world began to suddenly dim around him. It seemed that Kass had shut his beak, the apple finally out of his mouth. “Yeck… my throat’s gonna be sore for a while,” the bird mumbled, letting flashes of light into his maw as he spoke. “Oh, but it seems like the apple’s still in good condition! That’s great, isn’t it… Wren?” His voice was suddenly fraught with worry. “W-Wren? Wren, where are you!?”
“Kass! Don’t worry, I’m okay!” Wren called back. “I’m still in your mouth. I slipped off of the apple and managed to grab onto your uvula.”
“Oh!” Kass breathed a heavy sigh of relief, which caused his uvula to wobble quite a bit, but Wren managed not to lose his grip. “Thank goodness you’re alright,” he said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Do you want some help getting out of there?”
“Just… give me a moment to calm down,” Wren wheezed. The rush of adrenaline was starting to fade, but he was still feeling pretty frazzled.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in my hands? My feathers are nice and warm and dry.”
Wren considered it. That did sound comfy, but… it wasn’t like he was uncomfortable currently. It was nice and warm where he was, just wet instead of dry. And part of him dreaded having to step out into the cold open air and dry off. It would be fine to stay in here… just a little while longer.
“It’s fine. I li– I mean, I’ve gotten used to it in here,” Wren blurted.
Kass chuckled. “Well, if you insist. Just let me know when you do want out.”
Then, it was quiet. Wren’s heartbeat had slowed down, and all that filled his ears now was the ambient sound of Kass breathing. The bird’s idle inhales and exhales washed over Wren, the warm air soothing him… he was finally starting to feel relaxed.
He heard some shuffling noises from outside– a gentle plunk against wood as Kass set the golden apple down, then a wooshy, musical sound as he picked something else up. Wren suspected that it might be the bird’s accordion, and just a few seconds later, his suspicions were confirmed as Kass lightly squeezed the huge instrument, producing a simple, but beautiful chord.
“How are the acoustics in there?” Kass asked, a tinge of amusement in his voice.
“Sounds great to me. Are you going to play a song, Kass?”
“Indeed I am!” Kass replied. “I figure I still owe you for putting you through all of that, and the best way I can think to repay you is with a personal performance.”
“Ooh, sweet! Thank you!” Wren said eagerly. “I’m all ears!”
Kass smiled. “It’s my pleasure. Though…” His head tilted slightly, shifting Wren and his perspective of the beak. It seemed that he was considering something. “I can’t really sing with proper volume while you’re still in there. I could give you a more complete performance if you came outside.”
Now that was tempting. Kass did have a lovely voice, after all, and he could only imagine how much more lovely it would sound singing alongside his accordion. But he also didn’t want to leave just yet.
“What if you hummed the melody instead?” Wren suggested.
Kass took a moment to mull that over. “Hmm… If you really want to stay there, then I suppose that could be serviceable. I’ll try to hum quietly– tell me how this is.”
He began playing his accordion. It sounded familiar to Wren… was this the song Kass was playing when he had first encountered him? It was slow, but it had an upbeat, heroic vibe. Kass played a phrase of the song, then started a second phrase, which he accompanied with his humming. The sound resonated in his beak, making everything inside, including Wren, vibrate gently. The humming was loud, but it didn’t overpower the sound of the accordion, and the two sounds balanced each other out beautifully, entwined in a harmonic duet. Melody and harmony, perfectly in tune with one another.
Kass stopped the song at the end of the phrase, awaiting feedback from Wren. The Picori had been so entranced, it took him a second to realize he was even supposed to say something. “…Oh! Kass, that was perfect. Please keep going.”
The bird nodded his head once, making Wren bob up and down. “Great to hear. Allow me to continue…”
The song picked up where he’d left off, and Wren found himself getting completely lost in the music. He could tell Kass had been playing the accordion for many, many years– his technique was immaculate, and it was reflected in the timbre and dynamics of his performance. Wren hardly even noticed as he concluded the first song and started up on the second, which had a much more dark and somber tone.
About halfway through the second song, Wren’s focus from the music was broken as he realized his arms were starting to get tired. Squeezing the uvula was nice and all, especially as it was vibrating with the bird’s humming, but he couldn’t keep squeezing forever. He sighed, and finally stepped down from the dangling nub onto the back of Kass’ tongue. He could tell Kass noticed he did this, as the tongue shifted to accommodate his weight, but the bird continued on with his performance, allowing Wren to move about as he pleased in his beak.
Wren sat down on the tongue. The squishy surface sank down like memory foam where he sat, making for a very warm and comfy seat. To think, only minutes ago he was loath to even set foot on the slimy muscle, but now he was actually enjoying it. The only part that could really be described as bad was the wet, sticky saliva, but he’d long since gotten used to that. He almost wanted to lie down, but part of him was worried that he’d fall asleep, and that would be pretty rude to do while Kass was performing!
A few phrases later, the second song concluded, and Kass began the third. It continued the trend of each song getting slower than the last, and this one was also quieter. Wait, was this… a lullaby?
Is he trying to get me to fall asleep? Wren wondered. Surely he has to know how exhausted I am… but maybe lying down for a moment wouldn’t hurt.
He flopped backwards, his body colliding with the tongue with a muffled splat! He found himself nestled in the small divot that ran down the middle of the tongue, the supple flesh gently cradling him on all sides. Wren closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the heavenly feeling and Kass’ accordion playing, though it was becoming a bit difficult to hear with taste buds on either side of his head, smushed up against his ears…
When Kass finished the lullaby, he heard something surprising– snoring! Had Wren really fallen asleep in his mouth? He wanted to laugh, but he stopped himself– he didn’t want to disturb the little Picori. It was only fair to let him rest, after all he’d been through today. When he woke back up, he’d get an encore performance with some proper singing. But for now, it was time to let him rest.
And at the very least, the little guy didn’t taste half-bad.