Olifur liked his quiet little life. She was at peace in her little cottage with her garden and her art, where she’d moved to escape the chaos of her old home. Here, on the outskirts of Kilpisjärvi, he could operate at his own pace, going into town only on occasion to see what meat was on the market. Everything else they made themselves, from home-grown vegetables to paints made using wildflowers, right down to their favorite sweater.

Of course, all that quiet made the knock on her door almost frighteningly loud. She’d been finishing up a sketch with a piece of charcoal, but dropped the tool immediately when someone rapped loudly on her door. It was just beginning to grow dark outside, so he really couldn’t think of why someone would be out here this early – or out here at all, actually. They’d taken up residence in this abandoned little home specifically because it was far away from people.

“C-coming! One- one moment!” he called, setting down his things before hurrying towards the door. He sincerely hoped this wouldn’t be trouble. He was absolutely large enough to win in a fight against most other Trolls, but violence was best avoided in her book. The club above the fireplace was only for show, after all.

Swinging open the door, the first thing that hit Olifur was confusion. There was nobody out there, only the familiar w-

“OW!”

The second thing to hit Olifur was a surprisingly well-placed punch to the shin, followed by “HEY! EYES DOWN HERE!” in an indignant voice. Almost toppling over backwards in shock, Olifur clumsily caught her footing and looked down to see dark skin and a pointy red cap, hands on the little figure’s hips like a small child trying to be stern.

“H-hey! What w-was that for?” Olifur stammered out, feeling not unlike an elephant in front of a mouse.

The little figure shrugged, dark curls bouncing on her shoulders with the movement. “Sorry. It was the quickest way to get your attention,” the little Gnome stated plainly. Her tail swished behind her like an investigative cat. “Would you happen to know the way to Kilpisjärvi?”

That should’ve been such an easy question, but Olifur found himself absolutely unprepared to answer. This was part of why he lived alone. Every time anyone asked him a question, he immediately forgot how to answer. One moment, he could be certain his favorite color was blue, but once someone asked him, he barely even knew what colors were.

“Uhh… That way?” he said based on what few straws he could grasp at the moment, pointing a finger in the rough direction of West. “It’s not far.”

The little stranger beamed at him. “Thanks!” she chirped before turning around and shouting into the trees “WE’RE GOING WEST!”

The foliage rustled, with two other figures emerging. One was a soggy-looking young man with a hat and a tail like that of a fish. The other was a small fox with a tail blazing in the colors of the Northern lights, greens and blues against ruddy orange.

“Great,” the fox said. “Let’s go. The sooner we grab supplies, the sooner we can keep going… or rather, you can keep going. I think I’ll stay in Kilpisjärvi for the remainder of my recovery. I’m not sure the travel is good for my wounds.”

The Gnome’s face fell, earning an idle eyebrow raise from Olifur. “Awh,” she said, “But we’ll miss you, Helgi.”

The fox – Helgi – smiled softly. “Well, it’s not goodbye yet, and probably not goodbye forever.”

The boy with the hat sighed. “Come on, let’s get going. I don’t want to keep Esko and Greta waiting, and navigation might take us awhile,” he piped up, already turning towards the place from whence he came. Glancing over his shoulder, he paused, nodding his head politely. “Thank you for the help.”

Olifur nodded. “Y-you’re welcome. I… uh… I know a direct route, if you want me to guide you. You don’t look like you’re f-from around here.”

All three strangers paused, glancing amongst themselves before Helgi made a gesture with his tail, beckoning the younger two into a huddle. Olifur found herself watching in awkward silence as they murmured, probably deciding what to do with her offer. Part of her wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor like water into good soil.

At long last, after what was an eternity compressed into less than five minutes, the three turned to face Olifur, still standing in his doorway. The one in the hat leveled his gaze with Olifur’s own, giving another polite nod. “We accept your offer on the condition that all members of our traveling party are unharmed by you, no matter what they are.”

No matter what they are? Are they going to tell me they’re harboring some kind of dangerous fugitive or something?

It didn’t matter. “One- one moment, please,” Olifur said, ducking back inside. They grabbed their watering can in one hand and slung their club over their shoulder, then hurried back out, nodding to indicate they were ready to go.

“What’s with the club?” Helgi asked, tilting his head quizzically.

“In case you try to murder me.”

“And the watering can?”

“For good luck.”

---

They had not, in fact, been harboring a criminal. What they had been harboring was a tall girl with antlers and flaxen hair and one very prickly human who looked as if they were expecting a fight. Truthfully, Olifur had wanted to turn and run, but when the girl introduced herself as Greta and the human as Esko, that thought had defenestrated itself. Esko was, very obviously, in the same camp as Olifur. Queer. LGBTQ+. Not cisgender.

Olifur did not care if Esko was a human. If he was queer like them, then that made him a brother.

Leading the group on the route Olifur always took into town, they listened to the others talk and plan.

“So,” the fish boy – Olifur knew him now as Finner – began, “When we get to town, we leave Esko hidden with me. Olifur, Helgi, Greta, and Astrid will go into town for food, weapons, medical supplies, and to find Helgi a place to stay.”

“If they have a gun, I want it.”

Olifur turned to glance at Esko at the same time everyone else did. “Why would you want a gun?” they asked immediately in unison with Greta and Astrid, all in very different intonements.

Esko sighed as though they were all stupid. “A ranged weapon would be good for hunting with. Also, I can’t go toe-to-toe with an aggressive Troll like the rest of you can. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m still human.”

The point made perfect sense to Olifur. They nodded, taking the request into account. “There’s a few scavengers who might have one. I’ve seen vendors selling rifles before. I’m not sure about ammunition, though.”

“Beating someone to death with a gun isn’t out of the question. Neither is a makeshift bayonet.”

Olifur wrinkled her nose, then nodded. “I’ll see if I can find something sharp, too.”

She continued down the trail, listening closely to ensure she still had everyone behind her. “Do you even know how to use a bayonet?” she heard Finner ask.

“No, but stabbing someone with what’s basically a knife on a stick shouldn’t be a difficult skill to learn.”

That felt a little oversimplified to her, but Olifur was also in no way, shape, or form an expert on guns, so she couldn’t argue. She decided it would be better to focus on the path ahead. Not tripping on wayward roots or losing their way sounded like a good idea.

“I hope they’re willing to take in Helgi,” Greta murmured, having fallen into step next to Olifur. They frowned, hearing the clear concern in her voice.

“I’m sure they will. I don’t think the Trolls in Kilpisjärvi would turn anyone with an injury away,” he said in reply, turning to glance at her. “The population is fairly small, so it’s not like they’ll be too tight on resources to help a stranger.”

“Do you have friends there?”

“I… No, I don’t. Not really. I’m not good at talking to people.”

Greta raised an eyebrow. “You’re talking to me, aren’t you?” she asked with a tone Olifur knew was meant to make them feel better. They appreciated the effort, even if it wouldn’t work.

“Thank you for trying to boost my confidence, but just because I’m talking to you doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“Maybe I’m just used to being around people who are bad at talking to others, then.”

“I heard that,” Finner droned from a few feet behind them.

Greta shrugged sheepishly. “Well, I don’t think I’m wrong, am I?”

“You’re not.”

The walk fell into silence for maybe five minutes before someone spoke up again, right as Olifur was starting to forget that there were other people with him. He nearly startled out of his skin before registering whose voice it was, and breathed a sigh of relief. Right. Not an ambush. They’d been with him this whole time.

“Anyone here wanna play 20 questions?” Astrid asked from her position laying comfortably in Esko’s arms. “My siblings and I used to play it all the time back home in my village.”

“What the fuck is 20 questions?” Finner asked with a hint of genuine confusion in the voice that Olifur had been beginning to assume could only speak in a monotone.

“I’ve played it before,” Esko began, “It’s simple. Basically, someone thinks of a noun – animal, plant, or mineral – and can only answer questions about it with ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Everyone else has to try to guess it in 20 tries. You start by asking ‘is it an animal’ and so on until you find the category, then you guess other qualities like color or size or location until you narrow it down.”

“I can have us do a practice round!” Astrid volunteered. “I’m thinking of something. I’ve got it in my mind.”

“Is it an animal?” Helgi asked, sounding almost hopeful.

“No.”

“Is it a plant?” Greta suggested, turning to glance behind her.

“Yeah, it’s a plant.”

Olifur’s mind whirled with ideas. They were a gardener. They knew plenty of plants.

“Is it a tree?” Finner asked. He sounded a little uncertain about the game, but was playing along anyways, which made Olifur smile just a little.

“Nope, not a tree.”

“Is it safe to eat?” Olifur inquired. If it was edible, that narrowed it down significantly. There were plenty of plants out there that you shouldn’t be putting in your mouth.

“I’ve eaten it before and been fine, so yeah.”

Okay, Olifur could definitely work with that. “Is it a root, like a carrot or a beet?”

“No.”

Helgi asked this time before Olifur could. “What about an herb?”

“Not an herb.”

“A fruit of some kind, then?” Finner that time, sounding a little more engaged.

“Yeah, it’s a fruit.”

Finner again. “Wild?”

“Yeah.”

Only eight questions in. We’re doing good. A few more and we’ll probably have it.

“Is it a kind of berry?” Asked Greta, who seemed to be having some trouble hiding whatever growing excitement was building within her.

“Yep, berry.”

“… Blueberry?”

Everyone glanced at Esko, including Astrid. “Bingo!” she exclaimed, obviously elated someone had guessed correctly. “They grew all around the place where I grew up.”

Esko only nodded, seeming almost wistful. “I haven’t eaten a blueberry in a while.”

“I’ve never eaten a blueberry. Ever,” Finner admitted with a shrug. 

While Astrid gasped as though Finner had committed a crime worse than murder, Olifur found themself chuckling along with Greta. “Well,” they began, looking over their shoulder with a warm, genuine smile, “I bet there’ll be plenty of opportunities to fix that wherever you’re going.”

---

The plan to go into town went off without a hitch. Olifur made it a priority to drop Helgi off at the nearest healer – a kindly old Troll named Linnea – explaining the situation to her as best he could.

“He’s healing, but he needs a place to stay until he does,” Olifur explained while Helgi sat on the counter so Linnea could get a good look at him. “I hope it won’t be too much trouble.”

Linnea smiled and shook her head, long ears flopping with the movement. “Oh, don’t worry, it won’t be,” she replied in that warm old lady voice of hers. “It’s never too much trouble to help an injured soul. I wouldn’t be working this job if it was.”

Helgi and Olifur breathed a sigh of relief in near perfect unison. “Thank you,” Helgi spoke profusely, tail wagging in what Olifur assumed was gratitude. “I promise I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I’m better.”

“Don’t fret about it. You can stay as long as you need to,” Linnea replied. She finished writing something on a piece of paper, then reached out to take Helgi into her arms. “Come on, let’s go get you settled. I imagine you must be very tired.”

Helgi accepted the offer gratefully, climbing carefully into Linnea’s embrace and glancing over his shoulder at Olifur. Offering up a bittersweet smile, he tilted his ears back in a gesture Olifur assumed was a show of regret at the fact that they had to part ways. “Tell everyone I say ‘thank you,’ especially Esko. I hope we meet again somewhere further down the road. Take care.”

“You too,” Olifur replied. “And I will. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.”

As Linnea carried Helgi off into a separate room, they found themself leaning back, heaving a big sigh like a gust of wind. They had known Helgi for literally less than a day, but they found themself wishing it had been for longer. He seemed like an easy individual to get along with – and a little on the nervous side, just like Olifur was. What was more, they worried about how the other four would fare without Helgi with them.Turning to leave the healer’s hut, they let their mind wander to the four kids that had been traveling with Helgi. The oldest was probably 19 at most, a fledgeling rather than a full-grown eagle. They remembered being that age, being lost and confused away from home. Although they were only 24 now, they felt a nagging sense of responsibility for those young adults. It didn’t feel right to just leave them on their own, now that the adultier adult they’d been with was leaving them. Sure, they might’ve thought they’d be alright on their own, but Olifur knew deep down that wasn’t actually the case. The dilemma here was entirely about what to do about that.

“Olle!” Astrid’s voice called from down the street, and their head snapped towards the direction of the sound. There she was, tailed by Greta, carrying a variety of items. Some non-perishable food, a first aid kit, and a knife. Astrid looked like she was having the time of her life.

“We have the supplies,” Greta stated, shifting her grip on the basket full of items. “Thanks for spotting us for the money.”

Olifur smiled. “It’s fine,” she replied. “You’re kids. You needed some help, I just did the right thing.”

Astrid grabbed onto their pant leg, quickly trying to climb the larger troll, who was more than a little surprised by the action. “So, where’s the place where we can get a gun?”

Olifur took a deep, slow breath. This was the part they’d been dreading. There was always one scavenger who consistently had weapons from who-knew-where, and they were a terror to deal with. “This way,” they instructed, turning on their heel. “You two stay quiet, I’ll do the talking.”

I really hope they’ve gotten more amicable since last time.

The building with the sign that very proudly stated Viggo’s Scavenged Supplies was a few blocks down from Linnea’s place, but Olifur was very familiar with the route to the point where it barely felt like any distance at all. When they’d first come here, Viggo had been their main supplier for gardening tools and other items that they would use to improve the abandoned house they’d taken as a home. Viggo was by no means a hostile or unkind Troll, but they were notoriously picky about their deals and tended to be difficult to barter with. It was very, very easy to get mad at Viggo, and it was very, very easy to make Viggo mad at you.

With one heavy hand, Olifur pushed open the door to the well-lit shop, stepping onto the floorboards inside after ducking through the door. The bell above the door produced its usual sound – the dull clang of the cowbell that had replaced whatever was there previously.

“Who’s there?”

“Hey, Viggo,” Olifur sighed, standing up and glancing behind them to make sure the two girls were following. “I’m… uh… looking for a gun.”

Viggo poked their head out from the back room, squinting at Olifur. “What the hell do you need a gun for?” they asked immediately, luminous eyes darting over Olifur and their two companions. The twigs that made up most of their body rustled and clicked as they moved. “Where the hell did you get two kids?”

“I’m helping the kids buy a gun,” Olifur explained simply. She knew Viggo, and she knew they weren’t going to let this go until they had a satisfactory answer.

“Why do the kids need a gun?”

“They need to hunt.”

Viggo paused, seeming to think for a moment, then they nodded. “Alright. So a rifle. Got it.”

They turned around, darting into the back room once more before emerging with an armful of rifles, which they came out from behind the counter to dump on the ground. Viggo was not someone who could ever be bothered to organize things neatly, and instead lived in a form of chaos that they navigated flawlessly. 

“We’ve got a couple options,” they began, crouching on the floor and digging through the pile. “This one right here is really damn old, goes all the way back to a human war, I think. You probably don’t want the old one, though.”

The old rifle clattered away across the floor, discarded for the time being.

“This one is one of the ones humans use to defend their cities. Had someone trade it to me a while ago, so I’m not sure where it came from, though. We’ve also got this other one I picked up from a human corpse, though it seems a little fancy to be of use-”

“What about this one?”

Olifur had picked up a nice-looking rifle, lightweight in their grip (though that might’ve just been them) and was turning it over carefully. The barrel seemed long enough to stick a knife to, which Olifur felt made it an ideal candidate for a bayonet. Looking over their shoulder, Astrid and Greta seemed to be having the same thought.

“That one?” Viggo asked, glancing up at it. “I think that’s one I found on my own in an abandoned house.”

“How much for it?”

“How much you got?”

Olifur glanced down, patting through their pockets for something, but Astrid interrupted them. “Would this work?” she asked, holding out a shiny golden ring. “It was a gift for me when I was born or something, but I don’t have any use for it. It’s real gold, too.”

Viggo’s face lit up, and they swiftly leaned towards the offered item, looking it up and down with bright eyes. “Oh, that definitely works! Hell, I’ll throw in the ammo I found this thing with to boot!”

Astrid dropped the ring into their hand, and Viggo scrambled off, returning with a plastic bag full of bullets, which they happily handed over to Astrid. Scooping up the other guns, they waved with one hand as Olifur quickly ushered the two girls towards the door. “Good luck out there!” they called, and the door clanged shut.

---

“… Winchester 88,” Esko spoke very pensively, glancing over the gun he’d been given while trying his best to attach the knife they’d bought to the barrel with medical tape and bandages. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do for now until they could find better options.

“Looks pretty sturdy,” Finner commented. He was sitting next to Esko, sorting through the supplies from that day. “Think it’ll work?”

“It’ll have to,” the blonde boy replied, shrugging slightly. “And if it doesn’t, then we’ll have to find a way to change that.”

Olifur was seated comfortably against a tree, watching the four kids preparing to head out again. Their head buzzed with thoughts, many of which were worried. Can I really let them go on their own? Will they be alright out there?

“When are you heading out?” he asked softly, finally making up his mind. The socially anxious part of him fervently hoped he was doing this right.

“Probably after we all take a nap,” Esko replied, glancing over at Olifur. “Thank you for the help.”

Olifur smiled, shaking their head. “It’s no problem, really. Anyone with a heart would’ve done something,” they replied. “Besides, it’s nothing compared to coming with you.”

Esko raised an eyebrow, lips parting in genuine confusion. “… Coming with us?”

“I’m coming with you. I feel weird letting a bunch of teenagers just wander around the woods unsupervised. You need an adultier adult to come with you. I can grab us some more money, and we’ll all head out together.”

Finner squinted, seeming a little indignant. “Are you saying we can’t take care of ourselves?”

“I’m not saying you can’t do anything. I’m saying that I, as the older adult, don’t feel comfortable letting you walk off into potential danger without someone accompanying you.”

Those luminous yellow eyes narrowed. “We were fine before.”

“You had Helgi with you. He’s an older adult. Now that he’s gone, someone else has to keep an eye on you. Think of it like having an older sibling who keeps you from overestimating yourself.”

Greta, Finner, and Esko glanced between one another, but Astrid seemed absolutely thrilled at Olifur’s statement. “You’re coming with us!!!” she exclaimed jubilantly, shooting to her feet to sprint at Olifur and jump into their arms – which just barely caught her. “That’s awesome! We have so much cool stuff to show you. We killed a bear once!”

“… You killed a bear?”

“I stabbed it to death!”

Olifur glanced over at Esko, furrowing their brow in what could only be described as utter bewilderment and concern. Esko just shook his head and sighed.

“It’s true. She killed a bear.”

“I-I mean, I believe you, I just wasn’t expecting-”

“We also weren’t expecting it, don’t worry,” Finner assured her somewhat dryly. “But if you’re going to come with us, you’re going to have to get used to the unexpected. I’ve been thrown more curveballs in the past two days with these people than I have in my entire life.”

Letting their lips quirk up in a smile at that, Olifur began to laugh softly, the sound low and hearty in their chest. “Isn’t that just life? Events you never quite expect?”

Silence fell for a very long moment. Long enough for Olifur to begin wondering if he’d said something wrong. He could feel his breathing growing tighter, chest constricting until-

Greta broke the spell.

“Yeah. I think it is.”