That day was when Kalle started dreaming of a life on the road, learning about magic. Although it took him quite a while to decide what to do with his Class, and more importantly how. I know I can't do it alone. Not from the start anyway.
As he watched Harold recover himself from the handful of stings and reconsider his approach, Kalle considered what to do. His bangle was on the upper branch, basking in the moonlight, and he knew it was not charged yet. It might last him a few minutes, but without knowing more of the younger fellows' plans, it was a tough decision.
His patience paid dividends as he watched Harold gather his courage and run up to the nearest trees, hanging his sack on a branch and getting to palling their apples.
But just as Kalle got ready to cast his [Wailing Bolt] and catch the thief, he noticed Harold was doing something more than gathering apples, he left the twig bare but rubbed it until it shone with a slight but intense green light before proceeding to the next. It somehow reminded Kalle of pure life.
As Harold kept going on his 3rd tree, Kalle saw the branches that had been picked first were hanging lower even than before, looking like their bounty had doubled. As he looked too close from his precarious footing, the branch suddenly heaved and he almost fell off. Stop messing with me granny smith! Is that kid a specialist [Farmer]? Why choose such a Class when you’ve got a tavern?
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Things had been going swimmingly, besides the wasps, once Harold recovered and actually got to palling apples. He wasn’t at the usual spot, but these trees looked just as nice.
But as was par for the course, nothing could go right this night. Barely having started on his 3rd tree, Harold heard a heavy rustle and looked up at the top of the hill, to the largest tree, only to see the supposed [Farmer] staring down at him in the darkness.
He panicked. What the hell, what the hell, I’ve only done this once before. What kind of psychopath is already sitting ready for me to come back!?
Harold’s legs were already working overtime to get him out of there. It has to be some kind of Skill or he's been there all week!
Less than ten seconds and he had cleared the green and gotten past the treeline back into the woods. Just as he got past the Farmgard field, he obviously realised the wasps would still be waiting, and he was barely twenty metres from the spot they were still buzzing madly at, but he didn’t know which he feared getting caught by more. He was still under the impression there weren’t more than fifteen of the buggers.
“Hey, hold it!” Was yelled somewhat shrilly from behind.
Before he could consider heading away from both threats equally, he heard the heavy steps of the sprinting farmer approaching from behind and had to keep going straight ahead.
It seemed this [Farmer] would follow him even past the treeline, despite the fact he must have been watching earlier. No luck with the wasp-phobia, damnit.
He kept dodging behind obstacles and slowing down to not run out of breath when he made some distance, but as he ran up a well-placed root and got onto a boulder, he jumped off and in the air he saw the wasps boxing him in.
With the wasps in front and a boulder behind, he panicked once more; heart already beating thrice for every normal beat, from the fear and the run.
He went for the weaker side in a mad dash, and as the wasps encircled him, a small wailing ghost appeared from above and scattered the beasts for but a moment, unbeknownst to Harold who thought it targeted him.
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A vaguely heard voice might have shouted “Wait!” but who were they kidding?
Wasps, ghosts and wails and shouts followed him past the distant town with the occasional sting egging him on to keep the desperate pace up. But the last bit up to the Hare’s Retreat was uphill. They all finally caught him.
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Harold realised he’d fainted, but had no way to tell for how long. He felt sweaty and hot, and like his body had intense sunburn in large spots all over. He opened his eyes and winced at the sunlight which should have been unable to penetrate his clothes.
He was still at the start of the hill. What is going on, what happened?
He turned over on his back and looked up at the sudden buzzing sound that started up, eyes widening.
Kalle was hidden by the treeline and saw Harold had finally woken up.
No, Kalle had not been waiting there all night. He had gone back to get his bangle.
As the warrior wasps caught the kid last night, something very peculiar happened. The majority of them had stung him, only for the boy to cry out and that same intense green light as back at the apple tree to show up, at the precise spot of each of the wasp’s penetrating stingers.
That was when Harold fainted, and the second smaller wave of wasps arrived for the fatal finish.
And then things turned strange. The original attackers took great offence to these late arrivals, and ganged up to viciously attack them until the threat was dealt with.
Now the kid was waking up, only to realise what the source of that heavy buzzing was. Finally some answers.
Except it seemed clear the lad was in a panic of sorts from the proximity of the wasps. It seemed not even he knew what was going on.
“Lad, hey lad! Relax, they like you for some reason,” Kalle tried.
It took Harold a good 30 more seconds to get it, he kept scrambling closer to the trees where Kalle was hiding, whimpering, but eventually he realised the wasps weren’t going for the kill.
He froze, they froze.
“What the hell is going on?” He tried asking the wasps.
Kalle was shaking his head and opened his mouth to respond. “Last night you d-…"
He didn’t get further before the wasps noted his proximity and went to engage.
“Kid, what the hell!? Call them off right now you loon,”
The strange guy was already sprinting away, with Harold looking on and still feeling groggy and slow to react.
By the time he thought of trying some way to follow the suggestion, the strange man and the wasps were long gone. The strangeness was making him wake up more swiftly now though. Did he say they like me?
As Harold looked around he noted the other six dead wasps. And the fact that it was clearly a few hours into the morning.
So, the wasps had been protecting me? It was the only conclusion he could think of. At least it was good news and meant he had nothing to fear from the critters. Guess I have some explaining to do.