Chapter Text
Wiz Forlane was thirty-three years old, finally getting his chocobo ranch some real footing in the world, when he found a little boy in his field.
He stared out into the pasture, squinting and hoping he wasn't seeing that wrong.
Wiz whistled. The small flock perked up, slowly shifting towards him. The little figure he'd seen among them was briefly hidden by feathers and powerful legs. Concerned at the idea of a tiny child getting caught between the massive birds, Wiz jumped the fence and hustled over.
He whistled and clicked his tongue as he tried to weave through the chocobos who thought he'd brought them treats. Eventually he found the little figure tucked up against one of the mother birds. Her chicks had just left the nest and she'd been snappy as a result.
For the love of the Six, Wiz prayed his broody hen hadn't kidnapped someone's child.
When Wiz got within ten feet, she snipped her beak at him and warked.
“Easy there, Jessie.” Wiz held his hands up carefully. “Hey kid, you okay there?” He tried to peek around her spread wings but she just crouched down low.
Tiny hands peeked around the yellow feathers and pulled them aside. A round little face peeked up at him with the biggest blue eyes he'd ever seen.
Wiz wanted to crouch to be more his height but it was risky with Jessie rattling warningly at him. Wiz didn't plan on getting his chin kicked in by a protective hen.
“...hi.” The tiny voice said, wiggling around Jessie. The kid was a boy and naked as the day he was born. Blond hair near the exact same color as a chocobo's feathers was ruffled and messy around his head. Maybe about two or three years old? Wiz didn't know much about kids.
“Hey there, buckaroo.” Wiz tried to coax him forward. “You mind steppin a lil further away from my chocobo?” The priority was to get the kid away from the strong legs and thick talons in the flock. There were a great many reasons to keep chicks away from a full flock, and getting accidentally trampled was one of them. The hens didn't pose a risk, but the rest?
The little boy's nose scrunched up. He had freckles all over his face and shoulders. “Mm.” He made the negative sound without hesitation. He still stepped a bit closer to Wiz though, looking up at him curiously. Two year olds weren't good at talking, right? This one seemed to be a bit quiet.
It took a fair bit of soothing, but after ten or so minutes Wiz managed to grab the kid and hike him gently (if awkwardly) onto his hip. Jessie screamed gods almighty at him but then the little boy honest to gods chirped at her. She settled for pacing around Wiz angrily and snapping at his hat. The kid kept up a stream of chirps and whistles whenever she hissed and warbled.
Once the two of them were outside the gate Jessie keened mournfully, leaning her neck over the fence and reaching towards the boy. He reached a hand back with a wave and another happy chirrup.
No wonder the hen had downright adopted him, the damn kid sounded like one of the chicks himself. Wiz was a bit perplexed that a human being could even make that sort of noise. With the hair matching their feathers so well it was clear why the bird had made the mistake.
Jessie's mistake or not, Wiz now had the terrible fortune of having a birdnapped kid on his hands that he had no idea what to do with.
He took a minute or two to stare at the boy and panic internally. The kid just stared back up at him and tilted his head curiously. Well. Mama didn't raise no idiot.
First things first was to get the boy some clothes. Wiz didn't need to see all that. Then food.
He didn't have anything the kid would fit, but a few big shirts would work about as well as a dress. A clean pair of boxers would work as a pair of shorts, right? They were loose on him but the elastic would keep them from outright falling off.
The kid was content to let Wiz manhandle him, though he tried to be gentle with the poor fella. He didn't look too roughed up - just a few light bruises and scratches underneath grass and dirt stains - but who knew what the poor kid had been through. Once dressed he ruffled the kid's hair and knelt down next to him to ask him if he was hungry. After a moment’s thought the boy nodded.
The kid was plopped onto the couch of Wiz’s tiny little living room a minute later, looking around without a trace of fear in his eyes as he munched on a bologna sandwich.
“Now that we got that all settled, what's your name?”
The kid blinked up at him, then looked down at his lap. He kicked his legs a few times. Wiz absolutely didn't have any shoes that would fit the poor lad's dirty feet.
“Prom-p-to.” The kid said suddenly after a minute of silence. “Promp-to.” He said again, clearly practicing. “Prompto!”
Was that really his name? Most kids could at least say their own names… right? Wiz had no clue. Would a kid give him a fake name??
“Well, Prompto, it's nice to meet you. I'm Wiz.” He held his hand out to shake but Prompto just stared at it curiously. “Say, do you know where your parents are?”
Prompto’s nose crinkled up, freckles standing out on his pale skin. He shook his head.
“Alright. Do you know how you got in my field, then?”
Prompto thought about that for a second then lit up. “Cho'cbos!” He said proudly.
“The chocobos brought you to the field?” Wiz scratched at his stubble, uncertain.
“Cho'cbos.” Prompto repeated insistently.
He didn't get much more out of him. Prompto was apparently little enough to stick mostly to one word sentences. Wiz was lucky enough to get his name out of him. Any attempts at getting more details out of the child resulted in a long series of chirping and whistling that made no sense to Wiz. It was unnerving really how similar to an actual chocochick Prompto sounded.
Prompto followed Wiz around happily enough. He grabbed ahold of the farmhand he'd hired on last month to handle all of the ranch's chores for the day so he could take a look around the area. Driving up and down all day showed no signs of any cars parked by the side of the road. Looking around the havens in the area revealed none had been camped in recently.
So as far as Wiz knew, Prompto either came from very far away and was incredibly lost or he'd been abandoned on the road. He was too healthy and rosy cheeked for that though, unless the abandonment was rather recent. Only thing wrong with him seemed to be the chocobo noises.
Wiz brought them both back to the ranch, scratching his head for answers. Someone had to come looking for the kid eventually. Unless he really was abandoned. Six, Wiz hoped the poor thing wasn't abandoned.
Prompto was quiet for the most part - if you ignored his many chirps and coos - and stayed remarkably calm and curious for being dragged around willy-nilly by a strange man. Wiz was caught between concern the kid didn't seem to have any sense of stranger danger and happy that at least the kid wasn't putting up a huge fuss. This would be a great deal more of a hassle if he was throwing a tantrum or crying.
Wiz finally brought Prompto back into the house. Poor thing hadn't eaten anything but the sandwich Wiz pressed into his hands earlier. Kid even tried eating a leaf out of the birds’ trough that they passed by.
“Here, why don't you snack on this.” Wiz grabbed an apple and handed it to him. Kids liked apples, right? “I can make some more food in a few minutes. Gotta make a call.”
Prompto trilled happily - just like a chocochick getting a treat - and went to town. Well, this kid definitely liked apples.
With the kid happily munching away on the couch, Wiz went to his small kitchen and the rotary phone installed on the wall. He dialed up the Hunter's HQ.
“Auburnbrie.” Ezma's voice was familiar as ever. He'd had to coordinate a lot with the hunters to get a start on putting an end to the chocobo poaching. They'd been illegal to hunt since being officially declared endangered by the Crown some years back, but some folk still wanted to go after the wild birds for some godsbedamned reason.
“Miss Ezma.” Wiz smiled stiffly. Just cause she was retired didn’t mean Ezma wasn’t a woman to be feared.
“Ah, Forlane.” The older woman sighed. “What is it this time? Found more traps in the Nebulawood?”
“No, it’sa very different kinda problem.” Wiz peeked over the couch to the fluffy head of blond hair. “Anyone say somethin bout a missin kid around?”
“Not that I'm aware of.” He could hear her frown. “You seen one? Sure they don't belong to some campers?”
“Went and checked around the Slough, ain't seen nobody. Asked around at the Coernix but Ernie said he ain't seen the kid or anyone who looks like im.” Blond hair and blue eyes that bright would be pretty noticeable in Lucis. Wiz gave a brief description for her benefit, including Prompto’s name and his concern it might not be the kid's real name; along with the bizarre whistling and chirping.
“Damnit, Forlane, didjer birds kidnap some tourists’ boy?” Ezma sounded as baffled as him.
“It sure damn looks like it.” Wiz shook his head, pressing his fingers into his eyes and hoping to relieve the pressure headache building up. “That or the kid's special - like old Eugene and his radios - and he saw his favorite thing and toddled off after it. Ain't normal, how accurate his noises are. If I ain't seen him do it I'd think it was a real chocochick chirping for attention.” Prompto being obsessed with chocobos and getting distracted by them would fit, he supposed.
“I'll put a note out, let everyone know to keep an eye out for someone looking for their kid.” Ezma sighed. “Only you, Forlane.”
“Yer tellin me.” Wiz sighed. He peeked over at Prompto and found the kid peering out the nearest window at the nearest pasture. “Listen, Miss Ezma,” He lowered his voice to not be heard. “Unless the kid's a lot more special’n he looks, I don't think it's just him bein lost. Kid didn't have a stitch on him an hardly a scratch either. Not hungry or thirsty like he'd been out in the woods. He couldn't’ve been out for long. Won't say a word about his folks. Course could be cause he's so young, but he certainly ain't enthusiastic about it when I ask.” Prompto had downright pouted when Wiz tried to press.
“...you sayin someone mighta dumped him nearby?” Ezma sounded pretty upset at the implication. She had a teenager of her own, Wiz thought. Most hunters tended to be protective of kids.
“Seems it could be, ma’am.” Wiz said.
“Can you try to get a city outta him? A last name, even?”
“Tried. Listed off every city and town I could think of within a few days’ drive; he just shook his head for each one, if he even understood what I was goin at. He's just a little boy, not sure he understands much.” Wiz admitted. “Bout all I can get outta him is his own name and ‘chocobo’, nothin more concrete.”
Prompto was putting his hands on the window, pressing against it curiously. Wiz smiled.
“Can you keep ahold o'him for a few weeks, then? Until we find some sign of where he came from?” Ezma asked. “We ain't equipped to deal with little kids up here at the moment.”
Made sense. Meldacio was rough and hunters rarely stayed for long. Ezma may have retired from the field to raise her son there, but Wiz didn't feel too comfortable leaving Prompto with strangers while the poor kid was all alone.
Still.
“I ain't equipped either.” He said. “He's wearin my shirt like a dress and a pair of boxers that're clingin on by a hope an a prayer.”
“Fine. Drive him over, we'll get some pictures to make sure we have record of him, an you can grab Davie's old clothes. Or hells, I'll send someone out there for it.” Ezma said back.
“You really think it's good for him to keep kickin around the Post?” Wiz asked, scratching his nose. “Ain't very kid friendly.”
“Forlane, I've had six hunters go missin near here the last month.” Ezma huffed. “Ain't any better here. Least there you've got less wildlife to worry bout.”
Still the voreteeth and occasional gigantoad, but Wiz could admit she was right compared to the mess up north. He said as much.
“Give it a week, if we ain't found who he belongs to by then I'll start lookin for someone who can take care o'him longer term. Until then, I'll send Davie out to ya with a camera and his baby clothes. Still got those voreteeth muckin up your fence lines, right?”
Wiz hung up the phone ten minutes later. Dave was a good kid. He'd do fine hunting and patrolling around the Post’s borders, so long as there was no poacher activity nearby. If he could help encourage the voreteeth away from Wiz’s lands that’d be more than enough.
“Hey Prom-” Wiz turned his head to find the toddler gone. “Dagnabbit.”
A cursory search led him out the open door and back to the pasture visible from the window. The chocobos out in this pasture were mostly his riders; ones he rented out to folks for transportation. He wasn't concerned Prompto would be attacked, but again: chocobos were very big and heavy birds. Not all of them understood that humans were a lot more fragile.
“Prom!” He called, jogging towards the fenceline.
Sure enough, Prompto was immersed in the flock. The chocobos seemed curious about the tiny human-shaped-chocochick and preened at his hair while he giggled.
“You cain't be runnin off like that, buckaroo.” Wiz sighed and approached. He practically had to swim through birds to get to the boy and pick him up.
Prompto whistled sadly, hands reaching back out to the chocobos.
“It ain't safe, kiddo.” Wiz lectured. “Yer real little and they're real big.”
“Mm-!” Prompto grunted, hands flexing. After a minute he grumbled and leaned back into Wiz’s arms.
It gave him a curious warm feeling in his chest. Wiz had never had any relatives Prompto’s age, nor any plans of starting a family of his own. He'd never really been around children so young. He was awful cute and well-mannered despite his lack of words.
“Alright then, let's get you back inside while I go find you a spot to stay, huh?” Wiz hiked him further up his hip. “Dave’ll be here sometime in the next few days. Until then you'll just have to settle for my old shirts, kay?”
“Kay.” Prompto said easily, hands grabbing hold of Wiz’s overalls to steady himself. He was perfectly happy to be carted around it seemed.
Dave came by and brought a bag of clothes that would fit Prompto, heading out into the woods to hunt down any beasts near the Post.
A week turned into two weeks, then three. The hunters heard no word of anyone missing a little boy with Prompto’s description. Wiz’s Chocobo Post was becoming a bit of a tourist destination so Wiz had plenty of travelers to poke at for news. Nobody'd heard anything.
Ezma did offer to look for someplace else to take Prompto, but Wiz ended up turning her down. Prompto was a doll. Very well-behaved, if a wild child, and more than happy to toddle along after Wiz doing his daily work. When Wiz was very briefly busy where he couldn't take a two year old, he left Prompto with his farmhand. Of course Prompto always seemed to escape the poor fellow’s oversight and end up with the chocobos… but Wiz knew after a few weeks that there was nowhere Prom was safer than a flock of fierce and protective chocobos.
The birds still seemed to think Prompto was a chocochick without wings and while sometimes baffled by Wiz insisting on taking him away from them, the chocobos were gentle and watched him as carefully as their own chicks. Wiz started thinking he ought to just leave Prompto in the nesting stable when he couldn't watch him. He didn't, of course, but he thought it would be a good bet in case of emergency. Prompto somehow managed to charm every nesting hen Wiz had into thinking he was one of their chicks. There was probably nowhere safer in all of Duscae for him.
Despite his reservations about growing attached, Wiz didn't mind Prompto staying at the Post until his family was found. Prompto was a good kid and he grew on Wiz. He just hoped the boy's family was out there looking for him.
The longer he stuck around the more Wiz was certain Prompto was a little special. Distant minded and strange in a way that couldn't just be blamed on age.
Prompto could sit and stare at the chocobos for hours while Wiz worked. Wiz kept an eye out, but Prompto genuinely seemed perfectly pleased to sit and chirp at the chocobos for hours on end with nothing else to do. He'd tried asking Prom if he wanted to go play. Prompto almost always shook his head and turned back to the birds.
The few times he did play, it was always with the chocochicks. The hens didn't mind a lick that the human child was sprinting and scuffling around with their babies. Anyone else brought near a nesting mother's clutch would risk losing a finger or breaking a bone. Even Wiz, having earned their trust over the past few years of working with them and sometimes even raising the hens in question, had to be very careful to avoid getting the dickens clawed out of him.
Prompto didn't seem to understand what was food or not. That part was pretty typical for his age, Wiz learned when he asked around, but it was bizarre. Prompto ate like the chocobos. He had to be prodded into eating anything that wasn't a vegetable. He'd eat meat, sure, but always poked it curiously first. Wiz was constantly having to tell him to not eat the chocobos’ feed. He'd even nibble at their pellets if left unmonitored around them. Seriously, that could not taste good. But if Wiz let him he’d eat the damn things by the fistful.
Prompto also seemed to be under the impression that he really was a chocochick. Wiz had to keep guiding him back into the house at night until they crashed; him in his bed and Prompto in the cot he'd set up in the guest room. The kid bundled his blankets and pillows into an actual nest. If left to his own devices he tried to sleep in the stables or out in the fields with the birds.
All told, despite the minor troubles, Wiz didn't mind if the kid was different. He'd known old Eugene since he was a boy himself. The man couldn't focus for shit, hardly spoke, and didn't understand social niceties no matter how hard his mamma tried. But damn if he wasn't a real whiz with a radio. Any machine brought in front of him old Eugene could fix, and he did so for barely a gil. He was a good man, a kind one, even if odd and hard to understand.
If Prompto was like old Eugene and liked his chocobos so much he damn well thought he was one, Wiz could live with it. He was still a sweet kid. He didn't pull on the birds’ feathers or upset them. He didn't get into trouble or throw tantrums. He seemed like the model of a well-behaved child.
It was a tad unnerving, truthfully, but then old Eugene had been a bit unnerving too sometimes. Wiz didn't mind.
He hoped the kid had a family to go back to, but as the weeks stretched on he found he didn't mind it if Prompto hung around.
“Hey Prom, whatcha got there?” Wiz asked the boy tiredly.
Prompto waved a bundle of gysahl greens with a wide smile. He bit into one like it was the tastiest treat. The chocobo whose food bowl he'd taken it from pouted behind him, nibbling the boy's hair. Wiz had seen Joseph get his hand bruised the other day for lingering too close to Jamie’s trough.
“Yanno you eat too much of that and you'll fill up before dinner.” Wiz said and flashed back to his Ma saying the same thing, except about him getting sweets at the county store.
Prompto shook his head and crunched further down the leaf, crumpling it into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out like a hamster. He gave a satisfied coo.
“Well fine, but try not to keep that up young man.” Wiz pointed a finger. “They ain't bad for ya, but they're still chocobo feed. You need more'n that to live.”
Prompto considered that and then pointed to the trough full of nutrient pellets. He chirruped triumphantly.
Wiz rubbed his forehead. “No, Prom, those're for the chocobos.”
Prompto patted his chest. “Me!”
Wiz sighed. “You sure do love em but you ain't actually a chocochick, kiddo.”
Prompto’s face screwed up in the way that meant he was thinking of an argument. Then his face brightened.
Prompto shoved the greens back in the bird's bowl, which pleased Jamie nicely. Then he… sort of… poofed? Feathers and smoke went everywhere.
Wiz yelled and fell backwards, scrambling forwards a moment later. The smoke faded within seconds and Wiz stared.
Where Prompto once stood, a round and fluffy chocochick now sat. It chirruped happy as can be and waddled over to the food trough, neck barely long enough to nip at greens hanging over the edge.
Jamie warked at the little chick, seeming unbothered by the smoke and feathers that had gone flying. The chocochick chirped pleadingly until Jamie gave a greatly put upon sigh and grabbed a beakful of gysahl greens to drop in the ground. The chick tore into them happily.
Wiz kept staring. The chocochick tilted its head at him.
Chocobos had black eyes, or brown. On occasion they could be any shade from black to red if they had a melanin variation. They never had blue eyes.
The chocochick had blue eyes the exact same as Prompto’s.
“...Prompto?”
The chick chirped and nodded, waddling forwards with his beak stuffed full and plopping down in Wiz’s lap. Reflexively Wiz pet the chocochick with one hand and cradled him with the other.
“...well I'll be.” Wiz mumbled.
Prompto’s oddities became a lot more understandable after that. Along with the understanding the boy seemed to have with the chocobos.
“Hey, Prom?” Wiz asked the boy, only a week after seeing him poof into feathers the first time. Now that Wiz had seen him, Prompto spent half his time with feathers and the rest without.
“Mm?” Prompto looked up from his lunch. Wiz had no idea what was appropriate to feed the kid or not at this point. He was just going to settle for feeding him correctly for whatever shape he was at the time. Right now he had thumbs so he was eating a sandwich and apple slices with peanut butter.
“You know how Lucy's gotta lame leg, right?”
Prompto tilted his head. He nodded.
“D'you think you could tell her I just need to give her the medicine to make her feel better again? I can force it down her beak, but she's expectin and I don't wanna stress her or the eggs more'n necessary.”
Prompto blinked. A small little smile grew on his face, something that felt precious to witness. He nodded, turning back to his food with a pleased look on his freckled face.
After lunch Wiz took Prompto out to the stables and stood in the stall door well out of reach. Prompto clicked and cooed his way right into her nest, snuggling into her side. They sat there for a few minutes making low noises to each other. Then Prompto looked up at Wiz with an attention grabbing whistle.
“Med'cine.” He demanded, pointing to Lucy.
Lucy was mighty displeased with the taste of her syringe full of anti-inflammatories, but she didn't put up a fight or struggle. Wiz fed her an apple and even got to stroke her crest feathers for a minute before the gravid mother-to-be fussed him out of her nesting stall and went back to cuddling Prompto.
Life just seemed to keep going. Wiz liked having his little chocobo whisperer following him around the Post. Prompto couldn't make a chocobo do something they didn't want to, but they sure did like to do what he asked. Things just fell into place. It felt so natural to have Prompto running around the Post that he was genuinely surprised when Ezma gave him a call and he realized it had been over a month since he first found that little boy in his pasture.
“Nobody's had any word of where he might’ve come from. You may have to think about keepin the kid longterm, Forlane.”
Wiz didn't even need to consider it, he felt like. It was just a foregone conclusion to his mind. He'd already decided to keep Prompto. He just took this long to realize it.
“...d'you want me to send feelers out for someone to take him?” Ezma asked, since he'd been quiet for too long. “Or Lestallum's got an orphanage, it ain't too bad I hear. Far as orphanages go.”
“No.” Wiz said firmly. “I don't think that kid has anywhere to go back to. I'm keepin im.” It was even true. Wiz didn't think Prompto had parents in the traditional sense. And he'd been adopted by all of his flocks too.
There was a small chuckle over the line. “Never thought I'd see the day. Thought if you ever had a child it'd have feathers.”
Wiz couldn't help the snort he gave. “This one's more'n good enough.”