Sugar Treats

In the early morning hours the forest, blanketed in a thick layer of nightly snow, seemed still and quiet at first glance. The loudest birds have flown to warmer climates and some wildlife even strayed closer to the volcanoes' craters for its soothing warmth. If not, most have found shelter from the biting morning cold or simply avoided the icy winds altogether in these awfully early hours. It would pose a serene scene if it weren’t for a styracosaurus crashing, motivated and unstoppable, through the frosty undergrowth, followed by a particularly thin cryolophosaurus.

Raze slinked close behind the styracosaurus. Right in front of him, Gwenn plowed through the snow, her strong body clearing a path through the frosted snow with ease. What might be mistaken as a predator chasing its prey from a bird’s eye view, it really was just two friends bickering.

“I’m telling you, Gwenn,” Raze groaned, his breath trailing faint clouds in the air, “the sap from those sugar maples by the ridge might taste the best to your opinion, but I don’t think they’re for me.”

Gwenn huffed, her nostrils flaring as she kept her pace, not even thinking about stopping in her trail. “And I’m telling you, that you should start taking care of yourself. Give yourself a treat sometimes! It tastes really sweet and it’s not just for herbivores. You’ll like it!”

Raze frowned. Too bad she isn’t witnessing the contempt in his face. “I mean it. I did eat sweet fruity stuff before and I didn’t like it. You really don’t have to convince me otherwise.”

Gwenn snorted, playfully flicking snow at him with her tail. “This isn’t about convincing you or proving a point, dude. I just want to do something nice for you. You’ve never had sap before. It’s not the same as getting drunk on fermented fruit. Sap won’t mess you up like that, I promise.”

Raze groaned again, regretting the time she found him passed out in the farm arrays. Originally he just wanted to befriend Gwenn as a sort of meat shield in case he gets in trouble, but she is actually far more insistent to care for him and drag him along on adventures than he thought. On one claw it’s better if she really sees him as a dear friend, but on the other it’s slowly getting really exhausting. Trudging behind his hefty companion, he declared truce and stopped complaining.

The pair made their way to the meadow near abandoned barns, likely made for cattle ages ago. The journey has been rather peaceful even in Gwenn’s haste, the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet was the only sound filling the area. Frost clung to the remaining vegetation and the faint smell of sweetness in the air hinted that they weren’t the first to visit maple trees for their sap.

Raze followed the herbivore as she led the way toward the ridge, her heavy footsteps leaving deep tracks in the snow. When they reached the sugar maples, Gwenn stopped and gestured dramatically at the trees with an exaggerated nod towards them with her horn.

Unconvinced, Raze couldn’t help but merely raise a skeptical brow. “Now what? We just slice the tree and drink the liquid raw?”

Gwenn only chuckled at his question and answered with an honest, “Yeah, basically, but also not really!”

Not waiting for Raze to retaliate or think of more questions or reasons for him not to be part of this, Gwenn already turned and scraped her crest against the tree bark. It roughed the tree up pretty good as she simultaneously itched a spot she otherwise couldn’t reach. Getting its bark ripped, deep gashes were cut in the trees trunk till it soon bled fresh maple sap (not quite syrup) to seal the wounds.

“There’s actually a reason I wanted us to go so early in the day. It’s still so very cold,” Gwenn started to ramble while she moved forward, her large beak scraping the sap from the tree’s surface. “So the juice actually freezes and gets chewy really fast! So you don’t have to lick a tree to get to the sweetness. Getting a splinter in your tongue must really suck, we don’t really want that.” She chewed joyfully on her treat before giving Raze an encouraging nod toward the tree.

He hesitated. He did admit it didn’t have that strong of a smell, at least it didn’t sting his nose, as he got closer to smell the fresh sap running down the tree like dense tar. And he took a piece between his teeth and tore it from the bark. It was still very runny inside and the outsides chewy. It was so sweet and sugary, but not in a way that repulsed him. It was actually really nice.

“Alright, I’ll admit it. This is good,” Raze admitted slowly, meeting Gwenn’s expectant look. “Really good.”

“I told you,” Gwenn puffed out her chest, happy that her friend likes it. “Let’s get more!”

As they worked more bark and snacked on more sap, the forest began to feel alive again. With the sun rising higher and shining rays between wispy winter clouds, early birds flitted through the branches and sung their songs, their bright feathers standing out against the snow. A squirrel yelling squeaky complaints at them from a nearby tree, clearly displeased at the early comotion, also added noise to the scene.

At the end of their winter feast, so full of sugar it would send any child into day-long zoomies, Raze flopped into the snow with a satisfied sigh, his belly full of candy sap. “You know, Gwenn, this might be the best winter feast I’ve ever had.”

Gwenn settled beside him, her bulk sinking into the snow. “It’s not exactly healthy in the long run, otherwise I would eat sap every single day, but it was a good idea, coming out here.”

Raze laughed, feign biting her side playfully. Snapping without teeth getting involved. “Good job convincing me to tag along.”

Gwenn nodded, stretching her limbs in all directions as she settled deeper into the snow. “Agreed, that’s what friends are for. But next time, we’re finding that birch grove I told you about. Birch sap is supposed to be amazing.”

Raze rolled his eyes but smiled. “You never stop, do you?”

“Never,” Gwenn chirped with a grin.

(1061 words according to Google Docs)