One Step Back

Cuu could barely hold in the guttural screaming that so desperately wanted to rip its way out of his chest. He thought that his grieving had finally passed; that the hole in his heart left by his father's **** had finally knit itself together, just like all of his wounds. His rage told him otherwise, as he stomped his way around the black cottage of The Wicked Witch. Once around to the back end, he spots the stream Dorothy spoke of earlier. It was smaller than he'd expected, with rounded stones lining the ground around it.

He sits by the stream, taking hold of one of the stones, chucking it past the stream. The small stone impacts a tree on the other side, blasting out the other side. Cuu grabs another stone, but this time crushes it to naught but pebbles before it can be thrown; scattering the debris into the water like cannon firing grapeshot.

Cuu **** himself to sit, grabbing the earth itself with all the might he could muster. "I'll kill them. Every last one of those scum who were there that night. I'll burn Roundtable to the ground! I'll grind the rubble down into sand!"

His voice did not sound like his own. This noise coming from his throat was a grim reminder of a not-so-distant night; the one that led to him being half dead, beaten to a pulp, cowering like a whelp. His rage remained, commanding his memories to attack him more...

...

Cuu was following the plan; the one his father originally laid out with him the night before his exile. He would head north-east from Avalon, circling around towards the border to Ozon. The smaller settlements and towns at the edges of Stonehold would likely have less experienced Storytellers, and thus, give him an easier time sneaking in for food and supplies.

Although, following the plan for a whole week... that was beginning to feel a lot like fleeing from his woes. His father was dead; murdered by the very group he had once been a part of. There was a burning sensation inside Cuu. From his guts, to his lungs, to his throat; his anger was threatening to overtake his mournful heart, and send him hurtling towards Roundtable, a longbow in hand.

These thoughts were stopped by necessity; approaching a small town, not nearly as well fortified as Avalon, and with no visible Watchtower. It had to be relatively new, to lack such a crucial addition. After all, how else would the sheep know a Wolf was in their midst? It was as simple as following the road. Cuu's stomach roared at him; the lack of solid game on this trip beginning to wear at his supply of jerky. He had been sparing with his meals, but as always, his greedy guts demanded more.

Cuu pulled his hood down over his head, and held down the poofy fur around his tail with a few straps; stuffing the appendage down his trousers, and wrapping it around his leg. A slightly lumpy leg could draw eyes, but certainly less than a wolf's tail. After finishing his "disguise", The Wolf heads into the town through it's front gate; looking around for a tavern of any kind. He spots a sign that seems to be of the ilk he's looking for, with a bed and beer-mug picture under a few squiggles he assumed to be words.

He enters the building, seeing that his assumption had been correct. The tavern was fine establishment, with well kept floors, and a good amount of people having meals and drinks. A few older residents are drinking, as well a what seem to be a collection of farmhands. Most notable are a gathering of wealthy looking men around Cuu's age; who all seemed to be deep in their drinks. Cuu sits at the front bar, raising a hand as he pulls his coin-sack from his side.

"How much food could I get for seven silver, and thirteen copper?" The Wolf asked.

The barkeep was twiddling a white mustache that would even impress Cuu's god-father. "A leg of lamb."

"Deal." Cuu says, pulling a canteen of water from his pack; the Great Caravan forbid **** while on the road, and he wasn't about to buck the tradition in exile.

It wasn't long before a plate noisily landed in front of The Wolf, with a freshly cooked chunk of meat, practically slipping off of the bone. Cuu poured out his coin-sack into the barkeep's hand, and began sinking his teeth into the meal. It may sound odd, but the leg of meat actually brought back some of Cuu's fondest memories. Helping an old shepherd woman in the Great Caravan, Motley, care for her herd. With their fuzzy wool, cute faces, and playful demeanor, it wasn't surprising that they ended up being his favorite animal.

Finishing his meal, and his memory, Cuu thanked the Barkeep, and stowed away the bone in his pack. It raised a brow from the older gentleman, but the Wolf had a good lie for once.

"I'm making a flute out of it." Cuu said; truthfully, he was just saving it as a snack for the road.

The Wolf makes for the exit quickly; perhaps too much so. He trips over something, landing face first on the wooden floorboards; busting his lip against his own sharp teeth. Cuu looks around as he gets to his feet, seeing that one of those wealthy drunkards had stuck out his leg to trip up the Tale. To make things worse, his hood had fallen down after his tumble, getting a good few chuckles from the gang as they saw his ears.

"Fido's saving a bone! Haha!" Said one of the idiots. "Gonna bury it, dog?"

Cuu ignored them, checking his pack to see if anything had fallen out. He pulled his hood down for good measure, just as his lip had finished healing. He had his canteen, his cot, his tarp, his snares, and arrow making kit. The few stones he had been working into arrow heads over the past few days were still in their place, as were the feathers he had been plucking from the occasional stray chicken. There was only one thing missing...

"Bobo?" Cuu asked himself under his breath, his heart jumping to a full drum-solo.

"Look! The dog has a chewtoy!"

In the hand of one of the drunks was that most precious treasure.

"I wonder if it'll float if we throw it down the well?"

Every man, woman, and Wolf has their limits. Cuu could handle his exile. He could handle the hunger pains he had been dealing with for the past week. He could even manage to keep himself together as he mourned his father's passing. But seeing his dearest treasure, the last piece of his mother left on this Page, being manhandled by a drunken lout? That, he could not handle.

"Why's it smell so funny?" The drunk asks his mates, not noticing as their faces turn pale.

A much larger hand than that of the oaf wraps around his wrist. It's less than a second before the sickening crack of his wrist being crushed fills the tavern. The stuffed bear is caught as it falls from his hand, just before the man is lifted by his broken wrist, and slammed down into the table his friends sat at; shattering it to pieces.

"Holy shit!"

"By the Author's Arthritis!"

"Woo! Do it again, Doggy!"

The reactions of the other patrons was mixed, but the fact that the gang of drunkards began drawing small weapons told Cuu all he needed to be told. He bolts out of the tavern, running down the dirt road of the nameless town, shoving Bobo back in his pack as he went.

"Guards! Guards!" One of the drunks shouts. "Catch that giant! He nearly killed Rodger!"

Cuu sees a two groups of men in studded leather armor quickly amass into a mob; this town must be used to this sort of thing to have such a rapid response. The guards begin chasing down Cuu as he sprints towards what he hopes is an exit from the town, but his constant peering over his shoulder gets him into quite the crash; as a rickety vegetable cart pulls out of an alley for but a moment...

*CRASH!*

"My cabbages!"

Cuu smashed right through the wooden cart, being rewarded with the world's largest splinter being lodged in his leg, just under the knee; around the size of an arrow-shaft. He yanks the fragment of wood free, and gets to his feet, limping down the road quickly as the guards start closing in.

"My radishes! My carrots! My potatoes!" The cart pusher picks up one of the pieces of his cart. "You mangy ruffian! I'll have your hide for this."

Cuu ducks as the skinny old man swings the piece of wood, but his wounded leg takes a second hit as the cart-pusher smacks him right in the kneecap. Cuu grabs the makeshift club, crushing it between his fingers as he growls at the man; his eyes glowing a blood-red hue. The cart-pusher runs away, arms flailing as he screams.

"I just wanted... a meal!" Cuu growls between gasps of air; the guards now surrounding him.

One of them raises a spear to his throat. "You are under arrest for-"

Cuu grabs the spear-tip with his teeth, and snaps it clean off; spitting it out. "I just want... to go home!"

Two of the guards close it, and attempt to swing black-jacks at Cuu's legs. He endures the blows as if they were nothing; grabbing their weapons, and yanking the men off their feet. He tosses the pair of them aside like ragdolls.

"I just want... my father... to be alive again!" Cuu roars; a black liquid beginning to drip from his lips as he held his head in his hands. "I just wanted... to meet her... Once! Once! Once!"

The guards had begun to back away, now seeing that towering giant of a man was surely a Tale of some kind. None of them noticed as the moon in the sky began to change. The light side of the moon slowly shifted from being a First Quarter Half-Moon, to a Third Quarter Half-Moon. The black liquid dripping from the man's mouth had begun sizzling like molten metal, but none knew what it truly was.

Ink; the substance that divides, and distinguishes between the parchment of Page.

The sizzling ink begins to create a sort of smoke, which wraps itself around the raging Tale; covering him like a suit of armor. It slowly begins reshaping the young man's form, causing him to grow, and his fingers to elongate into dagger-like claws. His body grows even bulkier, as the man soon towers over the simple housing that lines the streets; his elongated legs snapping back like that of a dogs. His face changes in turn; with bared teeth behind lips shifting into fangs lining a muzzle. The smokey form of this being was indistinguishable from fur at first glance, but it's strange way of flowing without wind made it's unnatural form clear as day.

A voice unlike that of the angry young giant comes from the beasts smoking maw. "Once upon a time... there was a big... bad..."

"Wolf!" The guards shouted, scattering like terrified children. "It's The Wolf!"

...

Cuu snaps back to the present as he feels a nudge at his side. It was a doe; finally, he thought, some game had appeared. However, he would never hunt a deer like this one. Looking at it's large belly, he could tell it was pregnant; and only a few weeks away from her due date. It was odd, seeing a wild beast be so cuddly. The doe sat by Cuu, and leaned its head by his side. He wasn't one to complain, however, and began stroking his new friend's fur.

"I shouldn't dwell on the past too much." Cuu whispered to himself. "If I do, look at what I may have missed."

Dorothy had seemingly spotted this odd sight, as she sat quietly on the other side of the doe. Cuu thought on his actions in the cottage; his outburst did not follow his father's teachings. The was not being kind to the kind...

"Doctor Oswald. I wish to apologize for my earlier outburst..." He said, offering a smile.

"It's fine." She whispered back. "I'm just glad you've found this little friend to help you calm down."

Cuu points to the doe's belly. "I think she's expecting a fawn. That, or she ate too much grass."

Dorothy starts giggling madly at his comment, The Hood falling back off her head as she covers her mouth to stifle the laughter. Her curly, white hair was a pleasant sight; it reminded Cuu of simpler times. Times where he would help that old shepherd take care of her beasts. The words came out of his mouth before his brain has processed the thought; a selection of seven words that would be remembered by the two of them until their final days.

"You kind of look like a sheep."