Chapter Text
Scenery blending together was not a new thing to Ogrim. Between the Waterways and the Cliffs: a lot of the parts he frequented tended to look the same. Thankfully he always had a good sense of direction to help him.
That good sense of direction can, however, be hindered by a charming man making him laugh as they gathered bothersome vengeflies to cook for the next few days.
Mato cracked jokes about the tiny flies as they wandered in hopes to find bigger catches. Ogrim could only laugh along and try to think of worse jokes to make while following him, not realizing how little he was paying attention to where they actually were!
It was only three extra catches than normal that made him notice, holding the basket within his claws.
“Mato. Where are we?”
Mato looked up after cracking a dazed vengefly’s skull with the flat of his nail to make sure it was dead so he could toss it in the basket. “What do you mean? Haven’t we just passed the grave of the Great Mind?”
Ogrim caught the vengefly within the basket and set it down. “Dear, I regret to inform you but that's nowhere in my sight.” Ogrim widely gestured around him.
That sentence made Mato much more alert. He spun around, trying to spot the landmark. “I could’ve sworn I just saw it!”
They both looked at each other nervously as they looked around for a smidge of familiar ground to remember which way to walk.
“I think we should go this way!” Both of them pointed in opposite directions.
“Ogrim, I’m fairly certain that way leads towards your burrow.”
“This way leads to your hut! If we go over this hill, it should be right there.”
“I’d hardly call that a hill.”
Ogrim shook his head at him. “It could call itself whatever it wants. I would just like to go inside already! It’s that way!”
Mato tsked at Ogrim, sheathing his dirty nail. “The winds aren’t even that bad right now, come on.” He started walking in the direction he pointed to.
“I don’t want to be here when they pick up, and also why are you going that way?! I swear it’s this way!”
Mato turned to walk backwards. “I’ve lived here years longer than you, Ogrim. I know when I’m right about where we are.”
“Well, you’re going to feel so silly when I’m right for once!” Ogrim turned to walk off in the other direction before realizing that was a stupid idea two steps later.
He grabbed their food and turned back. “Dear, this is dumb. Just come this way!”
Mato looked back, waved for Ogrim to just follow him, and kept walking.
“Of all the stubborn Aspids to catch…” Ogrim mumbled under his breath, swallowing his pride to just follow Mato to his inevitable wrong choice.
He was looking forward to saying “I told you so.”
But before it could fully go down, something with mighty speed crashed against his back. “AGH!!” Ogrim yelled in alarm, making Mato turn around with all his stubborn pride immediately dissipating.
Whatever hit his back proceeded to flip off it, making Ogrim fall down. (Thankfully this didn’t spill their food.) Landing in front of him was a blurb of shadow, which stumbled to the side, spun its hands, and balanced itself before it could fall too. Turning around to face him, the little Ghost stared up at Ogrim with pride at its little scare.
Both men looked at the small child and then at each other. They both knew one thing.
Ghost was a master at direction. They could settle this score!
“My child! What brings you this direction? Would you like to return to the hut with me and Ogrim?” Mato rushed back over, offering his arms to the child. Ghost took the hug, a stiff and loose one.
Before they could answer that question, Ogrim amended. “Yes! Little one, if you would like to go back to the hut, do remember which way the grave of the Great Mind is!”
Ghost looked between them and crossed their arms. They knew that both of them knew that they knew which way was the correct way.
They shook their head, pulled out their map, and opened it. They looked around for a few moments, traced their finger on the map for a second before closing it. Just to mess with them. Make them wait in the howling winds with their complete stillness and silence.
They pointed east, a direction which neither Mato nor Ogrim had pointed. Both of them looked stunned, giving each other a sorry glance.
Ghost approached Ogrim, drew their nail, and drove it into their prey basket. They jabbed a particularly big one onto it and ran off in that direction.
A “DIBS!!” if one ever was. Both men threw their respective feelings of pride aside and chased their child home, laughing all the way.