Walking the Dog

Dorothy awoke as any in her station would; tired, annoyed, and positively filled to the brim with several times her usual sexual frustration. After quickly throwing on her usual attire, that damned Hood moved itself right back to its place around her neck. Breakfast took longer than before, as she now had to make it for three people; one of whom ate so pig-like that he just had to be one. The wolf ears and tail were just a clever disguise, surely.

The only good thing about this morning was her perusal through her Storyteller's Index, which she had filled with the information from Pearl, and her new, clingy piece of clothing. She turned the blank pages as she sipped the light coffee she had just finished making.

The Smiling Cat.

Stories: Alice's Adventures Under Ground.

Allies: House Cats. The Wonder. The Duchess.

Enemies: Dogs. Hounds. Wolves. The Queen of Hearts.

Boons: Vanishing Smile. Powerful Bite. Absurd Agility. Greater Strength. Intuitions Guidance. Elevated Senses.

Banes: Dentistry. Catnip. Filth. Dogs. Hounds. Wolves.

Details: The Smiling Cat's Vanishing Smile causes this Tale to vanish entirely from sight. It take approximately one blink of a man's eye to fully take hold. Damage to the teeth can slow or nullify this ability. Paint, ink, or mud of some sort can mark The Smiling Cat's unseen body. The constant smiling resulting from the application of Catnip can cause The Smiling Cat to constantly flicker in and out of visibility; allowing for an easier time following their movements.

The teeth of the Smiling Cat can fully repair, or replace themselves; taking at most a single day. These teeth are hard enough to break rock, and bend iron; sturdy enough to withstand crossbow bolts, and direct blows from a weapon. A bite from this Tale can rend open plated armor; but may also provide an opening, or damage the teeth enough to disable it's Vanishing Smile. The roots of the teeth are it's weakest point, meaning that a tooth is more likely to be knocked loose, rather than broken. Aim for the jaw.

The Smiling Cat can leap to the roof of a second story building from the ground, and do so silently; always landing on their feet, all without effort, or training. This combination of strength, agility, and natural talent makes it near impossible to catch The Smiling Cat. While strikes to the legs can slow this Tale, they are unlikely, as it's movements are unnaturally quick. Instead, aim for it's tail; any damage to the tail will cause The Smiling Cat to lose some of its balance; making any attempt at super-human athletics possibly lethal.

Even without a Storyteller of their own, The Smiling Cat will have a basic understanding of how to fight a fellow Tale; thanks to it's intuition. This intuition can also hint The Smiling Cat towards weaknesses in armor, structures, or excellent hiding spots. This sixth sense, however, can be overwhelmed by a powerful enough opponent; freezing The Smiling Cat in place, and subjecting them to their opponents will. This appears to be some sort of last-ditch effort by the Tale's base instincts, trying to keep them alive in the face of a overwhelming ****.

Especially effective with the use of large dogs, hounds, or trained wolves.

Drawn in the same dramatized style as The Wolf's entry, was the massive face of a disturbingly human-like cat; smiling with rows of teeth not fitting of a feline. Its striped body reminded Dorothy of the short bob of hair on Pearl's head. Both were striped; a mix of light blonde, and a dark, dirty blonde.

Dorothy had never seen someone like Pearl; which was one of the reasons she didn't want Constable Robertson to just take her off to Roundtable for a trial. A selfish reason, sure; but a reason none the less. Even ignoring those cute cat ears, or the flickering slim tail at the woman's behind; that darker skin was so... exotic. She knew those of Underland had far more time in the sun, since they were a good bit closer to the equator; but seeing it up close was so different from the descriptors of books.

While Dorothy may have a small grudge with The Smiling Cat that lay in her guest-room, it wouldn't be enough to stump her curiosity. After the last of her coffee drains from her cup, she goes to collect her boots; readying for the trip to Gran's house. Cuu walks back inside the house as she goes to leave, wiping sweat from his brow-

-and completely shirtless.

"I hate him. I hate him. I hate him." She thought, doing her best not to look at his bare, muscular chest; she failed, of course.

"Oh; you're leaving already, Doctor Oswald?" Cuu asked, stopping at the doorway. "I finished chopping the firewood like you asked."

She had noticed that the Wolf was far too tall for the doors of her house; which was no mean feat of height, either. Dorothy herself wasn't exactly short; an above average-ish height for a woman her age, around five'eight. Cuu, meanwhile, towered over her. He had to be six'six, at least; combined with his physique, it was a wonder how he could ever have been beaten so badly those four days prior. Now, that mass of a man was in her doorway, sweat covering his body, bent down; looming over her. Staring at her with those piercing amber eyes from behind his black locks...

"Doctor Oswald?"

"Oh!" Dorothy suddenly remembered how to breathe, quickly moving out and onto the street. "Yes, I'm going now-"

"Don't you need a basket?" He asked. "Those medicines seem like they'll be a handful."

The poor girl nearly doubles over as she spins back around; internally screaming at her flustered self. Stumbling back inside, she looks for one of the larger of her baskets; finding it in the hands of a tall, handsome Wolf.

"This one?" Cuu asks; a kindly smile gracing his features. "It smells the most like the medicine your Elder gave me."

Dorothy's face was on fire. Wether this was literally, or figuratively, she couldn't tell; it burned all the same. She snags the basket and quickly dashes back out the door, placing a single foot on the yellow brick road when-

"You should bring him with you." Says The Hood; speaking once more inside her mind. "Little Cuu will need to know the way to Old Theodora's house; in case you are injured, my Wearer."

The freckles across Dorothy's cheeks become the only color left in her face. "H-how do you know Gran's name?"

"My old Wearer, Percy, knew her well." Says The Hood. "Please. Invite Little Cuu."

Sighing, Dorothy walks back to the door, and calls out. "Mister Cuu, I'd like you to accompany me to get the medicine!"

A silent moment passes before The Wolf enters her view, asking. "What about the Cat? Is it wise to leave her unattended?"

"She can barely move." Dorothy replies. "Besides; you'll need to know the way if I get hurt or sick. Gran's the only other person with medicinal knowledge for miles."

It seemed those last few words were the right key for the lock on this wolf. "Ah, makes sense. I'll be right out."

Dorothy couldn't help but notice the small glare Cuu had flashed her way; or rather, The Hood's way.

...

Cuu stepped outside, with the sun once more beating down on his pale flesh. If it weren't for his regeneration, he'd be sunburnt to a crisp by now. Dorothy and that damned Hood were standing on the yellow brick road; the road that was his very reason for coming to Ozon in the first place. Once side by side, the two of them (or three, I suppose) began down the road, further into the town.

"Do you really think it's best that I walk through your town like this?" Cuu asks. "There may be many doggish Tales, but not enough to keep some townies from screaming 'Wolf! Wolf!'"

"Oh, we likely won't see anyone on the road." Dorothy says, waving the concern away. "Most here are too elderly to do much besides garden, or go shop for produce."

"Really?" Cuu tilts his head. "Where are your peers, then?"

Dorothy slows down, suddenly a bit worse for wear. "That's a sore subject around here, Mister Cuu. Prehaps we could talk about something else?"

The ears atop his head flatten; he whispers his next words. "I see... Oh; last night, the Cat said she had accomplices, drinking in town. Is there a bar in town? Or a tavern?"

This grabbed Dorothy's attention. "Really? Well, we do have a tavern. It's on the way to and from Gran's place. Do you want to go there first?"

Cuu seems lost in thought, answering. "I'll head into this tavern for a short time, and poke around. Then, we go for your medicine."

"Okay... but don't get into trouble."

...

Baldur was getting sick of waiting. Shesh had been late by three whole fucking hours, and that was sending his nerves jumping over the moon like a cow. The debts they owed were due by today. Today! There was only so much time he could buy with a wink and a grin, for Author's sake!

The door to the Twister swung wide open, with a massive, shirtless beast of a man entering. He looked like the exact type that The Hatter would have hired to snuff them both out. Bulky, dumb, and ugly... although that last one was mostly down to the sourpuss grimace seemingly etched into the bastards face. He didn't have any weapons, but by the looks of him, he was a Tale; a pretty fucking bad one at that.

Running his hands through his greased back hair; The Charming rose from his seat, hand on the grip of his Foil. He turns to the probable Loan-Shark, putting on his bravest face.

"Bonjour, Connard."