Some Things Just Can't Be Understood

(fair enough)

Now that he had done everything needed, Maple decided to take a nap himself. He started going toward his room, remembered that the bed was broken, and then headed for another one. He was out almost as soon as he hit the bed.

Pheobie woke slowly. When she was fully awake, she sat up and stretched. Not wanting to disturb her bed-mates, she slipped out of bad and walked to the kitchen to get a drink of water.

Maple was still asleep, snoring away his bed. Groovy was curled up next to him, somehow sleeping through the noise.

Pheobie got her glass of water just as the ship let out the noise to tell them they had reached their destination. She set off to find Maple, only to discover him sleeping a short while later. She set her glass on the bed side table and shook him gently. "Maple? Maple, we're here"

"As the ruler of peanut butter-" Maple muttered, before fully waking up. "Huh?"

"We're here" Phebie stated before frowning. "Were you dreaming about peanut butter?"

"Apparently," Maple replied. "I have weird dreams. One time I dreamt I was chased by a giant turkey. As in 20-foot-tall turkey. That was scary."

Pheobie laughed. "Nice. I don't usually dream."

"Everybody dreams. It's just that a lot of dreams are forgotten once you wake up," Maple answered, sitting up and stretching. "Like that last dream. There was something about me and peanut butter and an army of pickles and some rainbow monkeys or something, but I don't really remember."

"If you say so" Pheobie laughed. She retrieved her glass and stepped out into the hall.

Maple got up and followed, going into the lounge.

"Now let's see. We need-" Maple began, before he noticed bursts of flame hitting on of the windows. Luckily the windows were fireproof. He looked outside to see an angry blond man, some embers trailing on his breath.

"What do we need?" Pheobie asked, confused that he had stopped mid sentence.

"We need to placate Voltaire apparently," commented Maple, watching the fire-breathing blond outside. The aqua-eyed young man began to yell something at him, but he couldn't hear what he was saying.

"Who?" Pheobie asked in confusion.

"Voltaire. He's a native I know here," said Maple, continuing to watch the firebreather's fit with amusement. "Apparently something about our very existence here has pissed him off."

"Hm. Wonder what." Pheobie shrugged.

"Who knows. He gets easily pissed off," Maple replied with an exaggerated shrug. "Go ahead and get some portable food and camping gear, dear. Voltaire can wait until then."

"Okay" Pheobie smiled, walking off to the storage room first.

________________


It took Pheobie ten minutes to get everything they needed. She gathered it all in the lounge where she left Maple. "Will this do?" She asked

"Yeah, that should be good," replied Maple, gathering up some of the supplies to carry them. He opened the door and then went outside, where an angry Voltaire soon greeted them.

"You just ruined my lunch," he growled, spitting fire to the side.

"Did we scare it away?" asked Maple cheerfully.

"You landed on it," the Hunter growled, pointing to the remains of a campfire just beneath the ship.

"I'll make you lunch as an apology. How's that" Pheobie stated. She had followed Maple out. "Fair?"

Voltaire bent around Maple to get a better look at her. "Who's this?"

"This is Pheobie, my assistant," Maple introduced. "And she is quite a good cook. So how about it?"

"...I guess," Voltaire answered, though he seemed skeptical.

Pheobie smiled. "What can I interest you in?" She asked "Any requests?"

"Something that can last for a while during travel," Voltaire suggested. He wasn't picky when it came to food.

"... I do have a kitchen to work from for the moment. Sure you don't want real food?" Pheobie asked sceptically. "I think all our traveling food is in Maple's backpack."

"I've got one hungry Hero and one big hungry bird to feed as well as myself," said Voltaire. "I don't need gourmet food. I need something that can last a while."

"How are Adair and Ava, by the way?" asked Maple.

"They're fine. Well, as fine as fine can be out here," Voltaire replied.