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"Fell from the sky, din'nit, a leaf as big as me 'ead....yewr 'ead," Davy Bones said in a far less angry manner. In fact, it seemed that right now, nothing could bother the little blue bugger. "Just after yews went....where did yews go, anyway?" he asked, actually sounding interested.
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"To get this 'ere shovel," Sam says, thumbing towards the implement in Yui's hands. "Fell from the sky, eh?" Sam looks concernedly at Yui. For some reason, Sam believed the little bugger. "I think we been made, partner. Drugs just don' grow on trees. I mean, they do, kinda, but...argh, yeh know what Sam means. This'ns been distributed to keep our friend here occupado, if not poisoned." Sam turns back to Davy. "Tha's right, I sez poisoned yeh are, mebbe. Yeh kent go smokin' any damn thing yeh find out here, guy. Why don't yeh put it out, yeah? Let ol' Sam have a look at yer roll-up? I'm good with plants, I might be able to figger if yeh're gonna live or not. Tell us, how do yeh feel? In yer body, in yer head, like? Heart racin'? Sweats? Need a poo?" Sam wasn't a doctor and had little bedside manner to speak of, but he felt a kinship to the little blue hob, and concern.
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Davy Bones looks up at Sam like he's got two heads but passes him the roll-up regardless. "Don't need a poo, jus' been. That's when the leaf landed next to me. I thought 'tha's a stroke o' luck' 'cos I was almost out meself. Luckily, didnae take much wiping."
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Barkley nods at Davy. The wee bastard doesn't seem that out of it, he's still got his wits about him, but you just can't trust free drugs. Sam puts out Davy's joint on the path, knocking the blazing cherry clean off, then sits down cross-legged over his staff. He unrolls the smoke carefully and engages in a staring contest with it. After what must seem like years to the stoned hob, its Sam that blinks. "Bugger me, I got no clue. If yer ain't worried, neither is me. But I'll stick around fer a few minutes, make sure yeh don't sprout a second head a'fore I leave." He pushes the remains back toward Davy. Sam looks at Yui and shrugs. "I think we been made. No point in diggin', not here, at least. I'll keep my eyes out for any more of these bushes while I'm patrolling this side, let yeh know if I find anythin', yeah?"
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Yui stops breaking ground. "This is the main Trod. It may not have been the suspect." Yui leans on the shovel, puzzeling the ground again. He should have waited behind and kept sentry. "And this is the only lead I have on the villain. Without the bush there is no trail, not unless other bushes have been planted at other gates."
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Davy Bones watches incredulously as Sam stubs out his rollie, mouth going slack a the sight of his quiet smoke, well, going up in smoke.
He shifts slightly, hatchets appearing in both hands.
"YEW BASTARD! I WAS ENJOYING THAT!" he yelled up at the Wizened, chestbutting against Sam's boot.
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Sam nods at Yui- the ferret had a point, though the woodsman doesn't believe in coincidences. They could dig, just to cover their bases, he was about to say when Davy draws his hatchets. "So take it back, yeh wee idjit. Sam ain't hurt nuthin', just knocked the little part on fire off so he could have a look-see. See?" Barkley pushes what's left of the roll-up a little ways toward the disgruntled hob. "No need fer this ta come to blows over. Roll it back up and smoke yerself silly, see if Sam cares." Barkley's instincts are yelling at him to get up, get his stick, and bash Davy over the head before those hatchets come for him, but the tiny bit of reasonable wood up there tell him to save his strength for a true enemy, and wee Davy Bones ain't it.
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"You know anyone of our own with a taste for weed?" Yui can't recall seeing such behavior from known courtiers. Though, Yui admits he does not know many courtiers.
"Trudgeing into the Hedge high is a very careless thing to do. I suspect they didn't go far. They may have been waiting for us to leave. Waiting so they would not be seen. Davy, was there a shadow heading for the gate or anything? A sound?" Yui nudges Sam to offer the hob a light.
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Davy Bones muttered some words under his breath as he picked up the remains of his smoke and tried to slavage it as best he could. When Yui asked him a question, he looked up to the Beast as if he was stupid.
"WHA'? DIDNAE SEE THE RIDIN' WINGED THIN' FLY OVER? WHERE THE BLAZES WERE YEW BOTH?" he said before continuing. "I HEARD ITS WINGS SO DUCKED FO' COVER-LIKE. WHEN I POKED ME 'EAD OUT, IT WAS GONE AND I WAS LEFT WITH THE LEAF. MUSTAV FALLEN AS IT WHOOSHED BY."
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Sam isn't much for being nudged, but he says nothing and obliges Yui and Davy by producing a pack of matches from his pocket, along with a cigar butt. Sam lights his own musky dog-end before offering the pack to the hob. "No, Sam don't have any friends that smoke trees," he deadpans to Yui. "An' he don't know Puff the Magic Dragon, neither." All kinds of weird things flew in the Hedge, but Barkley is surprised he didn't notice the one Davy saw; maybe it went in the other direction. Or maybe Davy is hallucinating, the poor little bugger is stoned off his gourd. "Well, it'd be hard to tend to plants from the air, anyway," he says, rising to his feet and bracing his staff against his shoulder. "Well, this hole ain't gonna dig itself," he says, motioning for Yui to hand him the shovel. "Mister," he says to Davy, "we don't want yeh to tell anyone 'bout this here hole we gonna dig. What do yez want in exchange for yer silence?" The gnarly bastard cracks a smile at Yui. "Mebbe our friend here could bring yeh some more o'that smoke yeh like so much, eh?"
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