Grit your Teeth

Pearl was lucky; as always. The blood she had spat up wasn't from a collapsing lung, but rather, a tooth that the Doggy had knocked loose when he bashed her into that painting; those frames were a damned sturdy wood. She spat more blood, this time into the palm of her dark-skinned hand; seeing that her tooth had come out; a shame. It would take all day to grow a new one, and until then; no vanishing. Not that she would right now, not when she was scared half to **** by that... thing.

Those damned eyes. Those fucking eyes. They put the fear of the Author back into her; just like when she met The Wonder, all those years ago. She knew he had to be a Tale, but what the Hell was he...

"You-" Doggy growled, walking towards that Storyteller; grasping that strange hood. "-how dare you show yourself! After what you did!?"

"M-mister Cuu-" The Storyteller stutters. "-what's going on? Who is that woman... wait, why my green hood up here!? And that basket! I made that for Bellodor-"

Doggy releases the matted, old cloth of the red hood his companion was wearing; returning his blood-red eyes back to Pearl. "I'll explain later. Collect what's yours, Doctor Oswald. As for the thief; that's up to you to decide."

The poor cat couldn't keep her eyes away from those claws, or those damned eyes. Her breathing, painful as it was, only increased in pace the longer she stared at this nightmare. She supposed it was only natural. He was a Dog, after all.

"Well, how about you carry her back to my home. She'll need rest after how you socked her."

...

Cuu was infuriated; enraged, even.

Here he was, with the damned cat that had battered his half-dead body further towards the grave... carrying her like an Author-Damned princess. That, and he was staring right at the filthy ragged mass that had turned its back on him, and more importantly, his father. The only pleasures he took from the situation was the feeling of his boots being back on his feet, and the ever quickening heart-rate of his doctor's new "patient."

"What has The Hood told you, Doctor Oswald?" He asked through gritted teeth.

Dorothy tugs at the mess of rough cloth. "That it's upset I called it He."

"Yep. Same Hood." Cuu sighed; remembering how the damned thing had nearly strangled him once for the same mistake.

"Hey! Stop that!"

Dorothy was yanking at The Hood, trying to hold it in place as it wrapped itself around her own, smaller hood. The Hood began to shrink, and thin; as the other piece of cloth began bulging out; as if soaked with water. It was as if the two hoods had swapped material and design, with The Hood now being a silky, clean, and light bit of cloth-

-and Dorothy's hood now being a rotted, old lump of burlap trash.

"Aw, my Father bought me that..." She grumbled, tossing the green hood aside. "Well, at least you're lighter. My back was about to give out."

Cuu was tempted to toss the cat aside, and take the mass of cloth; at least that had a use outside of annoying him. It could be a hammock, or a sack; maybe even a tent.

The bitch he was carrying could only ever be trouble.

...

"Oh please, that other hood was a fashion disaster. Green? You live in Ozon! In the woods! Green is everywhere! Red, now that's a sexy color."

Dorothy was tempted to head straight to the fireplace when she opened her front door. However, the wounded thief in Cuu's arms groaned at just the right time to take her mind off the thing wrapped around her neck. Leading The Wolf back to the guest room, she had him lay the stranger in the bed.

"What bed do I sleep in, then?" Cuu asked, seating himself by the cat.

Dorothy's mind went a flutter with idyllic comebacks, as well as flirtatious fantasies.

"In mine." Came to mind, as did. "On top of me."

The hissing wince of her new patient pulled her back to reality once more, and she rushed over to her cabinets, looking for some of her Gran's tonics. After finding nothing, she smacked herself in the face; of course there were no tonics; Cuu drank the last one, and she hadn't found any of the usual mushrooms to make more.

"Mister Cuu, please keep an eye on... what is your name, Miss?" Dorothy asked.

She sees the cat try to think of a witty retort, before the poor thing catches another glimpse of the high-strung Wolf sitting at her bedside. You could almost say that a cat had her tongue.

"Pearl." She says quickly. "Pearl Shesh; The Smiling Cat."

"Well, Miss Shesh, I'll have to head to my Gran tomorrow for medicine. The best I can do for now is ask you to stay still, and have some **** for the pain." Dorothy motions to Cuu. "Mister Cuu, go grab the wine; oh, and my Index while you're at it. Its in my room."

Pearl lays back, inching away from The Wolf. "I assume you are going to turn me in."

"Maybe." She replies, smiling. "Or, maybe I'll just have you sneak your stolen goods back to their rightful owners? That sounds like a much better story."

"Sounds needlessly complicated." Cuu says, glaring daggers at the cat as he out of the room. "She deserves punishment..."

Dorothy's mind went straight into the gutter; like a rat fleeing from her new patient. The image of Cuu "punishing" Miss Shesh over her guest bed flashed across her mind. She wondered what would come out of such a punishment; puppies, or kittens? She snaps herself out of it, and takes Cuu's seat.

"Do you two know each other?" Dorothy asks; taking on a much **** tone, and resting her pale hand over the darker one of her patient.

Pearl rolls her baby-blue eyes; their slit-like pupils amazing the Storyteller. "I ran into your Doggy on the road some days ago. He was in bad shape, and seemed to be hiding. He had things I wanted; so I took them."

The puzzle pieces click in Dorothy's mind, as she realizes who exactly had left her Cuu in the woods, coughing up his own lungs. The Hood seemingly takes notice of the sudden, searing rage emitting from it's wearer like a wild-fire.

"Oh, should I smother her? I'm good at that!"

...

Cuu returned to the guestroom, seeing Doctor Oswald staring at Pearl; not with daggers, nor swords. Rather, she was staring at the cat with Author-Damned lances. The fact she was squeezing her new patients hand like a vice told him all he needed to know.

"Yep. She knows it was the cat." He concluded; thinking to himself. "Doctor Oswald is quite protective of me. She must take being a Medicine Woman very seriously..."

"Doctor Oswald-" He say, leaving the Index, bottle of wine, and glass on the bedside table. "-she's your patient too."

While Cuu was fine with the cat being in pain, he wasn't sure his doctor would feel too great about breaking a patients wrist.

As if snapped out of a haze, Dorothy suddenly looks to the imprint she had just left on Pearl's wrist. "Oh! I'm sorry..."

Now, it seemed, The Smiling Cat was more terrified of the Storyteller than the Wolf. She looked up to Cuu with pleading eyes, as if begging "Please, kill me before she does worse."

Cuu did not comply.