John Dory loved the outdoors.

This was something that he had known ever since he was a small Trolling in diapers, and Spruce was just a mere egg. There was something about nature that he felt connected with, though he couldn't pinpoint what exactly; Maybe it was the green of the leaves, some of which nearly matched his hair color exactly. Maybe it was the way the breeze caressed his skin like silk, light and soft. Maybe it was how the air smelled of fresh grasses and sweet summer flowers. Whatever it was, he just liked the outdoors. A lot. So much so that it didn't bother him now to be living off the land, with no set place he exactly referred to as 'home.'

He could sneer at anyone who called his way of life as that of a 'bum.' He wasn't a bum, he was a wanderer. Wandering his way around the land the way he did when he was a young Troll, taking a break from the pressures of being leader to have a little of what he liked to call "Me Time." Only now, after a relaxing stroll in the woods, he wasn't required to return to a pod and have to change a diaper, or listen to any blubbering, or fall victim to a silly prank, or be forced to listen in on some cheesy dating tips. John Dory was free to do as he pleased, how he pleased, and whenever he pleased. And the feeling was great! Now, he really was living large and in charge – in charge of his own life, that was. And with him only having to lead himself, things were so much easier. If John Dory wanted to go mountain climbing, he went mountain climbing no questions asked. If he wanted to take a hike along some new trails, he did just that without a problem. If he wanted to down a whole pack of marshmallows for his dinner, then heck, he'd ensure that the rest of the bag he held in his hands would get finished pronto! Why, he could even chew as loudly or quietly as he wanted to, and nobody would complain. If he accidentally burned a marshmallow in the flames, he wouldn't hear it from anybody (except maybe his belly, growling in disappointment at the loss of a treat).

John Dory hummed, his mind far gone in the delectable flavors that his desserty-dinner was providing him, as well as the natural naturesque sounds that were surrounding him. A simple rustling of leaves or the beating of small insect wings wasn't nearly as exciting as a totally bro-dacious Pop song, but these days the sounds comforted him, especially since he'd taken a bit of a break from the whole performing ordeal. John Dory tried not to think of it much, but sometimes, it couldn't be helped, and he would. The thoughts could linger, or they could come, invade his mind for no more than a few minutes, and then promptly leave.

But he couldn't be relaxed in that knowledge, though. Even if the thought crossed his mind for a minute, it wasn't as if that minute wouldn't be intense. In a way, he saw it like meteorology tech – a forecast only determined the chances of rain in percentage, not the intensity of rain. A 10% chance of rain could be a full-blown thunderstorm or a 100% chance of rain could be a simple drizzle. It was the same when it came to thinking about his old life, as leader of the phenomenal band BroZone. It would hit him like a train sometimes, making him wonder what he was doing there, alone, with just a few token reminders that had been inside the acorn backpack he'd hoisted upon his shoulders right before he bid them goodbye forever. All in all, he tried not to think of it much, but thankfully he had a distraction in the form of the large, bus-like creature that was peering back at him from the other side of the campfire flames with her large, green eyes. Rhonda.

He'd found Rhonda as a caterpup at first, squirming and yelping after having been caught in some vines. John Dory had instantly swept in to help, despite not knowing if the creature would've bitten him, or if there was a larger, more dangerous catermother around. But JD knew he couldn't just leave her there, tied up and humiliated – he knew the feeling all too well from experience, and it wasn't good at all. Rhonda was freed, and she, like him, seemed to have no other companions, and had vouched for following John Dory around. He'd thought it was cute, and was grandly delighted at the prospect of having a pet, something that he'd actually always wanted but was unable to have due to all the other responsibilities he'd had, with handling the band and watching over his younger brothers. Now, there was no need to worry over that, so he kept Rhonda, naming her shortly after the first few days of realizing that the little caterpup was not leaving him be, wagging her stumpy green tail and making chirpy noises that sounded friendly in their nature.

Rhonda grew up alongside him, though her growth was significantly larger than his. By the time John Dory had reached his full five inches of adult Troll height, Rhonda had ballooned to a towering catercreature. Even more intriguing, it turned out that she was almost like a vehicle of some sort, with a hollowed out inside that was quite safe to go inside. At first, John Dory had been a little wary to seemingly be entering her stomach, but she encouraged him, and he'd found it to be a safe, cozy little hideout from the elements should they get too harsh. Yes, she was his very own RV – Rhonda Vehicle, that is.

Rhonda was watching him intently from behind the campfire flames, her green eyes wide and nonblinking, having seen as he dug into the marshmallow bag and chomped away, and causing him to pause for a second and consider. He had already given Rhonda some of the tasty treats, and had already told her that she'd received her last serving, but somehow, he felt the need to share his rations once again. There was still an instinct buried within him to want to share, even though he didn't have to. Marshmallows were just an extra snack for Rhonda, since she'd already had her fill of caterbus grub right before JD had sat himself down and began eating. Yet he couldn't help recalling a time when his brothers, too, had had their fill of their Grandmother's delicious goodies, and pried him for a teeny bit more, to which, of course, he always gave in. Like he chose to do now.

"All right, all right, girl," he sighed, "the rest is yours." He tossed the bag with the remaining marshmallows at her, to which Rhonda effortlessly caught between her teeth. She easily tore into the food, and JD was content to see her munching away happily. But he still sort of felt that slight pang in his chest, almost wishing that his crew was there beside him. He knew they'd get along great with his caterbus. He could picture Spruce absolutely flattering her with his sweet talk, and Clay rubbing her belly until she was tickled pink. He could picture her nuzzling into Floyd's side, or covering Baby Branch in doggy-like kisses. And, while talking to Rhonda was something he did often and uplifted his mood, it still would never be quite the same as talking to another Troll.

Rhonda pawed at the bag once she'd finished the last bit of marshmallows and gave it a quick sniff, ensuring that there had been nothing else leftover, and then let out a loud, satisfied belch.

"Whoa," JD mumbled, giving her a thumbs up. "Ten outta ten on that one, girly!"

Rhonda wagged her tail, grateful for her treat and happy to receive the praise, and then approached John Dory, cuddling up to his side and purring.

John Dory chuckled, and pet her nose. "Okay, I get it, I love ya, too, 'aight?"

Rhonda trilled right back, but it was not the serene little trill that John Dory had anticipated, the one that told him she was content. It sounded more like a trill of surprise, and the caterbus's head shot up from his side, Rhonda now sitting erectly and seeming alert.

JD started. "Rhonda? What's the matter, girl?" He could tell she sensed something, but John Dory couldn't possibly make out what it was. Everything around them looked very much the same as it had been a minute ago. But Rhonda did not relax. She stood up on all four of her caterbus legs, her gaze fixated out somewhere distant. John Dory was about to pat her sides and reassure her that everything was okay, but before he could even manage to utter out an "It's all right, girly," something did grab his attention. And it, in fact, was right in the direction that Rhonda had been staring at.

It started as a brilliant, distant flash of light, almost like a firework's colorful burst, and the accompanying sound did not reach him until a few minutes afterwards. But the time in between did not go without incident. Before John Dory knew what was happening, a massive, sweeping wave of colorful energy blew right past him, knocking him backwards and off balance. He yelped and nearly fell over on the ground, had it not been for Rhonda's massive body behind him. But even she was not able to maintain full steadiness and wobbled, letting out another trill of surprise that was higher pitched than the last.

"Wha... what the heck was that?!" John Dory gasped aloud, putting into words what Rhonda's trill probably would've translated to. He was relieved when he looked himself over and noted that nothing had happened to him, or his precious caterbus. They were okay... save for the strange, sparkly remainder of the explosion that still hung, floating in the air as daintily as dandelion puffs did in the wind. But they didn't pose any danger. In fact, they were quite charming. They sparkled, kind of like fireflies, only brighter and, somehow, more mystical. Some of the sparkles floated down, covering the trees and greenery around him and Rhonda, almost making their colors brighter. Rhonda was apprehensive about allowing them to touch her, but when a few did manage to land on her nose (despite her attempts at dodging) she blinked and then purred blissfully. John Dory was curious about the effect it had on his caterbus, and he reached out, catching a few of the sparkles upon his hand the way one would with snowflakes.

As soon as his skin made contact, a wonderfully pleasant sensation overcame him. It was heavenly, like he'd been enveloped in a warm blanket of cotton candy, and he couldn't help but close his eyes and relish it. His body felt tingly, almost buzzing, and his vision was tinted with a myriad of rainbow colors when he reopened his eyes. And that wasn't the only thing. If John Dory hadn't been trained in the art of survivalism, his keen ears probably wouldn't have been able to pick up the faint sound that seemed to emanate from the sparkles themselves. It was musical in its nature, and if he listened just close enough, he could swear there were words. It didn't take him long to figure it out, since the words repeated themselves over and over in all sorts of different tunes. He could pick out the distinctive blare of Pop, some electronic-sounding bleeps, a sassy Southern twang, a bold rock riff, a melodious chiming, and a groovy beating. They were all so very different, in a good way though, united in the one phrase that he heard echoing from the sparkles.

Just sing.

He heard it again and again, a song in his ears, and he felt empowered. John Dory really did want to just sing. It was all he ever really wanted. To just sing with his family and share his talents with everybody the way that he and his brothers had promised to do when forming their band. And then, as if the universe wanted to further reiterate its point, it seemed to sift through the chorus of voices that he heard so that it picked out one very specific voice. This one, he did not recognize right away. It was foreign to him, just like all the others were, but boy, was it talented. The way the notes were held and how beautifully it transitioned from high to low, as smooth as honey, was something to really admire. It was only when the sparkles turned from its rainbow colors to purely a rich blue that it clicked, and John Dory knew exactly who the owner of the angelic voice was, despite the fact that he hadn't heard it in years and that it was not as small and baby-ish as it had once been.

"Branch?" he whispered to no one in particular, his eyebrows raised as the realization dawned on him.

Rhonda cocked her large head and made a sound that was quite similar to the phonetics that made up the word, and, misunderstanding, she trudged to the nearest tree and plucked out a bough, presenting it at John Dory's feet.

The teal Troll had to chuckle at that, and he fondly patted Rhonda's side. "No, no, girl. That's not exactly what I meant." Still though, so she wouldn't feel bad, he picked up the branch and tucked it away in his hair. Who knew, it could perhaps come in use at a later time, and as a survivalist, it was a key factor to be prepared for anything!

This incident, for example, was certainly not something he was prepared for, and now his curiosity was piqued. "Hey Rhonda," he said, "you think you can get me a better look?" He gestured out in the general direction where the blast of music and color had occurred, and the caterbus had barely let out a little whinny of agreement before she complied, scooping him up and carrying him along within her in a quick gallop. She screeched to a halt at the top of a sizable hill, where, upon getting back out, John Dory thanked her. Because now he did have a much better view, and he could see somewhere far in the distance the pulsating, colorful rainbow-like display that was in no doubt the root of the strangely pleasant disturbance. He glanced at it for some time, putting his hands up and squinting to gauge the distance between it and the landmarks that he already knew. Once satisfied, he scribbled down notes on a pad and tucked it safely away among the other BroZone memorabilia that was inside of his caterbus. He didn't think he was quite ready to meet up with his brother just yet, and something told him that his brother might not be so ready to see him either, but regardless John Dory had a rough idea of where he could find him, when the proper time came. And it would come.

Rhonda peered at him with a questioning gaze when he stepped back out, never really seeing her companion look so thoughtful, and she eventually gave him a nudge.

JD responded with a short laugh, scratching her chin in the way that made her eyes close and her tongue loll out happily, and then yawned. "Come on, girly. It's pretty late. Let's get some shut-eye, whaddya say?"

Rhonda answered with her own yawn, the noise vibrating against him with a rumbling hum. The pair of them, like they did nearly every night, came to find a cozy spot in the woodland to settle down in, allowing the dreamland to take full hold of their consciousness.

And while Rhonda's dreams that night consisted of flying off to an obscure, swirly-colored land that could only be described as being very trippy, John Dory's were filled with music, and harmonious connection between him and a certain four other Trolls.

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A/N: There was an article/interview I read in which it was stated that John Dory saw what happened in Trolls World Tour, and that's how he was able to get an idea of where Branch was. Idk if they'll show a flashback or something if Branch asks JD how he found him, but this was my take on it anyhow :)