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When Wurt feels the first chilly breeze of Winter, something within her shifts.
As a native to The Constant, Winter is a weird time for Wurt. Webber and Wortox can agree, something about the season makes them sluggish and sleepy. Wickerbottom spoke about it once, she called it hibernation.
Hibernation… Wurt still struggles to pronounce the word.
The evening sun continues to shine, hints of night looming. Entering the camp, Wurt hurries to put the reeds she collected in one of the many chests. There's a lot of preparation that goes into surviving Winter. Wurt, on the other hand, doesn’t need to worry; she only needs one thing.
Once done, Wurt surveys the camp, already feeling her body get warmer and slower. It doesn’t take long before her eyes land on a specific survivor.
Webber stands next to the crockpots with Wendy, clearly waiting for a late night snack. While Wendy is content with waiting, it almost looks like Webber is drooling at the sight of the bubbling crockpot.
Wurt waddles over to Webber, focusing on getting to him before the food is made.
“… I suggest we find Klaus’s stash. We can convince the adults to get us presents.”
“But last time we did that, Mr. Wilson got really mad!”
“Wilson won’t be upset when he’s dead.”
Before Webber can rebuttal, Wurt approaches Webber and casually burrows her face in his chest.
While Wurt finds it frustrating that she isn’t taller than her fuzzy boyfriend, she will admit that being shorter has its perks.
“Um… Wurt?”
Despite having her vision filled with Webber’s fur, Wurt can tell the duo are awkwardly staring at her. In spite of this, she refuses to move, finding Webber’s fur very cozy.
“Oh! Is it sleepy time?” Wurt nods her head, feeling more of Webber’s fur. “Can we get the meatballs first?”
After a moment of consideration, Wurt shakes her head no. Webber sighs with a smile, choosing to scratch Wurt’s head. She giggles and rubs her face more into Webber’s chest, making both of them happy.
“Gross.” Wendy announces, half joking.
“Sorry Wendy, we’ll get out of here.” Webber replies with a slightly embarrassed smile. Wurt picks up the cue and emerges from Webber’s fur, taking his hand instead and leading him back to her tent.
“I’ll bring you the food, but expect some of it to be eaten as payment.” Wendy waves to the duo, keeping her eye on the crockpot.
Eventually, they teach Wurt’s tent and duck inside. Although it’s Wurt’s tent, Webber usually ends up in the tent acting as a makeshift blanket, so some of his tools lay about; it takes a lot out of Wurt to not chew on his stuff.
A lantern sits near the bedroll Wurt and Webber share, keeping them safe from nightly terrors. Wurt turns on the lantern as Webber crawls inside the bedroll, keeping enough room for Wurt to join. And not long after, she does, a big sleepy smile accompanying her.
“Webby boy say funny story! With the fly!”
As the duo get comfy and cozy in the bedroll, Wurt asks her question half submerged in Webber’s fur. The spider boy responds quickly, seemingly more excited than Wurt is.
“Oh! Okay! Yeah, yeah! But, only if you’re the fly and we’re the spider!” Despite Webber’s voice being grungy thanks to his spider side, he speaks with the same enthusiasm and joy as a normal kid does.
“Mmhmm! Love being fly!” And Wurt, despite her words sounding half submerged in water, speaks just as excited.
Webber clears his throat, preparing to speak in his signature creepy spider voice. Wurt watches with anticipation, also preparing to speak with clear articulation.
“Will you walk into my tent? Said the spider to the fly… ‘tis the prettiest little tent that you ever did spy! The way into my tent is up a winding stair, and I have many curious things to show when you are there.” Webber leans close to Wurt’s face as his spider mandibles twitch creepily, trying to grab onto her. He puts a lot into his act, it fascinates Wurt.
“No! Say me…” Wurt speaks slowly and confidently. “Ask is in v-vain! For who go up your win-ding stairs never go down… again, flort!” Wurt exclaims happily, holding onto Webber’s fuzzy cheeks.
“We didn’t think you’d remember the words so well!” Webber hums, smiling with delight.
“Tell story, tell story!” Wurt insists, her sleepiness temporarily leaving to enjoy the fun.
“Okay! So… the spider said to the fly… sweet fly, what can I do for you? Oh sweet fly, with cheeks so soft and smile so bright, let me show my love for you.” Webber says, giving Wurt a soft kiss on the forehead.
“Hey! That not the words!” Despite her faint purple blush, Wurt keeps her focus on the story. “Webby boy too silly… make face all warm.”
Wurt pouts as Webber sleepily yawns, both trying to fight off the urge to immediately enter dreams.
“Aren’t you tired, Wurt? We sure are.”
“… little sleepy.” Wurt speaks as she struggles to keep her eyes fully open. “But want to be with you more!”
“Well, how about we play tomorrow? Sleep now and play later, we think that would be smart.”
“Fine… but you make breakfast…”
Before Webber can protest, Wurt nuzzles deeper in his fur, shifting so she can sleep comfortably. Instead of worrying about tomorrow, Webber gently pets Wurt as he drifts to sleep.
The duo huddle together, staying warm and happy. And for the rest of Winter, they will remain like this. The nights are long but the stories and laughs are longer.