Petunia Pig pulled back her hair and sighed into the spring breeze. Why did she have to be so amazing? Peter and Pascal wouldn’t stop fighting over her. More than once she’d caught them in a heated confrontation. Her beauty and charm had beguiled them both, but she was ready to choose. Then she could share her big secret with the love of her life.

     The three of them had lived in the woods ever since their village was invaded. Terror struck in the middle of the night. The wolves usually just ransacked food stores and made a mess of things. This time they burned the place down. They could never go home again. The three pigs had found each other a few miles from the village and stayed together to keep safe.

     Their food was almost gone. There was no hay, sticks, or bricks for shelter and they’d been living up in trees for the past month. The birds were not excited at the amount of mud brought up into the branches - but, hey, they’re pigs. A pig’s gotta wallow.

     “Petunia! Lunch is ready!” Pascal called.

     She adjusted her frilly collar. Even in the wild one had to look presentable. She pondered the necessity of Pascal in her life. Give him a few mushrooms and greens from the field and, Voila! Master Chef. With the food supply dwindling, he was essential to keep around.

     But Peter was useful in other ways. He could navigate by the stars and find the best mud. Right now, he was off in search of a new tree for them to inhabit. They moved to a new location each week. With his bravery and cunning, he could defend them from any wild animal they encountered. But Pascal, he could definitely cook it.

     Decisions, decisions. But today she would crown one of them her King.

     Pascal stirred the pot filled with “mish mash surprise,” his Tuesday specialty. Through the smoke he watched Petunia pat her flaxen hair. Guilt twisted his insides and he swallowed his conscience. He knew she thought he had feelings for her. But he couldn’t hold back the truth any longer. He was in love with Peter. He planned on confessing to them both today.

     Along the edge of the woods, Peter Pig paced back and forth. A sudden tap on his shoulder made him jump.

     “Oh, it’s you,” Peter stammered.

     The Wolf loomed over him. “Well? Did you decide?”

     He nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

     “You’ve made the right choice.” The Wolf clapped him on the shoulder and leered with heated breath. His curved teeth shone in the dusk. Then he slipped back into the dim interior of the forest.

     Peter’s insides quaked at the deal he’d struck. There was no turning back now. He stood silent under the maple, basking in deception. Pascal and Petunia would never understand. They trusted him, the ultimate Con Pig, after he’d made them both fall in love with him. Their adoration would be missed.

     Slowly, he made his way back to their tree. The smell of Tuesday mish mash made him wrinkle his nose. Why Petunia thought Pascal could cook was beyond him. Soon, neither of them would be his problem. This would be their last meal together.

     He watched Petunia sashay towards him, her coy smile beaming at them both. Pascal doled out the food, giving him a wink and an extra ladleful. Peter smiled like the decent pig they believed he was. Maybe they would somehow live happily ever after once he left.

     Three homeless pigs pulled up to a blanket laid out with good intentions, each with their own agenda. The sun shone down, the mish mash bubbled, and up in the tree the birds celebrated, knowing the pigs and their mud would soon be gone.

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This flash fiction originated from a Writing Prompt Party through Stop Writing Alone, using Pitch Wars Cards. Card One: Card one: Three homeless pigs. Card two: A complicated love triangle.