Sydar’s eyes glistened with excitement.
“I’m sorry,” Treycore said. “I didn’t mean—”
“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of anything indecent. I was just wondering if you might help me with a little project I’m working on. I’ve been struggling with it for some time, and I think it would be helpful if someone assisted me. But let’s not get into that now. Just finish your meal and then I’ll show you what I’m talking about.”
When they finished, Treycore was glad he’d eaten the disgusting soup because he felt much more alive, more vital than he’d felt when they’d first entered the outerlands.
He agreed to help Sydar with his project. His host provided him with a similar loin cloth as himself and led him from the cottage, which on the outside appeared to be a giant pile of vines, bundled together.
He took Treycore into the woods, to a part where thick vines, as large around as young trees, hung from overhanging branches.
“I build my home with these vines,” he said. “They go bad after some time, and I’ve already noticed several starting to rot, so I was hoping you might help me nab a few more.”
“Absolutely,” Treycore said. “What do I need to do?”
“Well, they’re a little tricky. You have to pull them down and then slice off either end. Then we take it back to the house, and I change it out with another.”
Simple enough.
He set his sword on the ground beside him and gripped either side of a vine. His biceps bulged and his torso constricted as he yanked down, hard.
The vine plummeted to the ground and made a loud thumping sound as it hit.
It shook to life and tossed about violently, like an injured worm.
“What the—” Treycore began.
“Hop on it!”
Treycore did as Sydar instructed while Sydar retrieved a dagger from a holster at his side and began carving into the end of the creature.
Treycore was starting to think these weren’t vines at all. He tensed his legs, trying to restrict the creature’s movements, but it was fairly strong and bucked him off. The vine bent back so that its end was a few yards off the ground.
Treycore crawled to his sword and spun around just as the vine fell toward him, seemingly with the intent of crushing its attacker.
SLICE!
Treycore severed the end, which flew off as Sydar finished up with his side.
The vine lay before them, limp, dead.
Treycore took a deep breath. “You should have been more specific.”
Sydar grinned. “Where would the fun have been in that?”
Treycore liked this Sydar. He was fun, playful. He was the kind of fuck buddy he would have enjoyed in the early days of Heaven.
They worked together for the remainder of the day, fighting the vines and ending their lives. When they’d collected several, they returned to Sydar’s, where he showed Treycore how to remove and insert them into his home. By the end of their hard work, their bodies were soaked in sweat. Treycore huffed and puffed. His muscles ached. He was exhausted.
To recover from the arduous task, Sydar led him to a spring, where they bathed, removing the filth they’d acquired through their labors.
Sydar’s gaze shifted continuously to Treycore’s girth, which he could easily view since Treycore stood in less than two feet of water.
Treycore wiped water through the rifts in his abs and massaged it across his arms.
Sydar immersed himself while Treycore rinsed off his dick.
Treycore waited for him to rise back from his submergence, but he didn’t.
