The sun was beginning its descent over the Hollyberry Kingdom, painting the skies in shades of orange, pink, and gold. The air carried the faint scent of cranberries, wild berries, and the sweetness of old oaks warmed by the day's light. Wind rustled softly through the trees lining the borders of the kingdom, their leaves whispering like age-old friends sharing secrets. Wildberry Cookie and you walked side by side—hands gently clasped together—along the soft dirt path that traced the outer edge of the kingdom.

Your silhouettes cast long shadows in the golden light, a stark contrast between his massive form and your smaller stature. Wildberry stood at an imposing 6’5”, built like a walking fortress, his thick arms banded in armor and his cloak fluttering with each heavy, deliberate step. Beside him, you stood at a much more modest height of 5’, your form nimble and sharp, like a spring coiled and ready to move. Yet, despite your clear physical differences, there was a comfort between you that transcended size or stature—an unspoken rhythm in your movements, a quiet trust in your closeness.

Your free hand toyed with the hem of your scarf, eyes flitting from the distant golden walls of the kingdom to the gentle sloping path ahead.

"You know," you said quietly, voice nearly drowned out by a passing breeze, "The Hollyberry Kingdom has amazing sunsets, the Dark Cacao Kingdom never looked like this."

Wildberry glanced down at you, a slight smile tugging at the edge of his stoic face. “There is a softness here,” he rumbled, “one that Dark Cacao seldom allows. It’s... refreshing.”

Your fingers tightened around one another’s.

You gave a lopsided smile and looked up at the towering cookie beside you. “You’re refreshing too, big guy.”

Wildberry’s crimson cheeks darkened slightly—not that he’d ever admit it. “Hmph.”

The path soon turned into a more forested stretch, where thick berry bushes and towering trees framed either side. The occasional chirp of birds or the rustle of leaves added a soundtrack to your quiet companionship. It was peaceful—comfortably so.

Then, without warning, a sharp rustle broke the silence.

You halted mid-step, ears twitching. “...Did you hear that?”

Wildberry immediately straightened, eyes scanning the underbrush with the precision of a warrior. “Yes. Stay close.”

Another rustle. Then a sudden shift in the bushes.

A spider the size of your palm emerged, legs stretching like spindly twigs, and its beady eyes caught the fading light. It wasn’t particularly threatening—merely a forest dweller going about its evening—but that didn't stop you from letting out an ear-piercing, high-pitched scream that could've cracked candy glass.

With one graceful, panic-fueled leap, you clung to Wildberry Cookie’s torso like a terrified sloth, wrapping arms and legs tightly around the larger cookie, face buried against his chest.

Wildberry blinked.

And then he chuckled—a deep, rumbly sound that shook his broad chest, though it was filled with nothing but warmth. One heavy arm looped around you protectively while the other gestured casually toward the spider now wandering off into the bushes again.

“You know...” he began, voice amused but gentle, “it’s quite adorable how you cling to me over a spider, yet you’re one of the best among the Dark Cacao soldiers.”

You peeked up at him, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “You didn’t see how big it was! That thing had legs like licorice whips!”

“Indeed. And you have the courage of a knight. And yet...” Wildberry raised a brow teasingly, “defeated by an eight-legged snack-sized beast.”

You thumped a tiny fist weakly against Wildberry’s shoulder. “Don’t mock me! It caught me off guard!”

Wildberry laughed again, setting you gently back down onto the path, but keeping your hands interlaced. “I wasn’t mocking. I simply find it... endearing.”

You muttered under your breath but made no move to let go of Wildberry’s hand. In fact, you stepped a little closer as you continued your stroll, perhaps subconsciously seeking the larger cookie’s warmth. Wildberry said nothing about it—but he was certainly aware.

You walked a bit slower now, as though savoring the quiet, or the closeness, or maybe both.

As you rounded another bend, a small, bubbling creek came into view, cutting gently across the landscape. A wide flat rock sat beside it, half in shadow, half in sun. Wildberry gestured toward it.

“Let’s rest a while.”

You nodded, and the two of you settled down—Wildberry seated with his back straight and legs stretched out before him, and you leaning into his side, knees pulled up. The sound of the water was calming, and for a few minutes, you simply watched it flow.

“I used to come to places like this with my cream wolves,” you murmured. “Back when I was younger. There’s something nice about just... sitting. Being.”

“You seldom allow yourself that anymore,” Wildberry noted, not as a criticism, but as an observation.

Your ears drooped a little. “I guess... I’ve always felt like I had to prove something. You know? That I wasn’t just some yappy little scout. That I mattered.”

Wildberry looked down at you, his expression softening. “You do matter. Not because of what you prove. But because of who you are.”

You turned to meet his gaze, surprise flickering across your features. You’d expected many responses. That wasn’t one of them.

“You’re a rare kind of cookie,” Wildberry continued, voice low and slow like distant thunder, “the kind who cares deeply, who protects fiercely. Who laughs loudly and fights harder. I... respect that. Deeply.”

Your breath caught slightly in your throat. You looked away, eyes blinking hard, as if trying to keep something at bay. “You’re such a sap sometimes,” you muttered with a grin.

Wildberry reached out and gently brushed a leaf from your hair, fingers lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “Only for you.”

For a while, you sat in silence again, only this time, it was a different kind of quiet. The kind that says everything without needing words. You eventually leaned your head against Wildberry’s arm, and the larger cookie responded by carefully adjusting his posture so you could rest more comfortably.

The warmth between you wasn’t explosive or dramatic. It wasn’t the kind that left one breathless. Instead, it was the warmth of shared sunrises and sleepy shoulders, of knowing glances and tiny laughs that only two close souls could understand. It was subtle, and slow, and beautiful.

“Did you ever think,” you whispered, “we’d end up here? Like this?”

Wildberry thought for a moment. “I never dared to. But now that we are... I’m grateful.”

You smiled, eyes slipping closed. “Me too.”

As the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon, the stars began to emerge—tiny freckles of light across the darkening sky. Fireflies blinked lazily in the brush, and the sound of crickets joined the song of the creek.

You gave a little yawn. “...If I fall asleep, will you carry me back?”

Wildberry didn’t even hesitate. “Always.”

He looked down to find that you had, in fact, already dozed off, one hand still loosely entwined with his, the other curled gently beneath your chin.

A quiet chuckle escaped Wildberry’s lips.

He stayed there for a long time, listening to the water, the wind, and the peaceful, rhythmic breathing of the cookie resting against him.