Terrified; Vilified

"Rude."

Cuu eyed the little greasy man; well, not exactly little. He was average height, but Cuu's own stature dwarfed him. The contrast of voice too was rather drastic; the Wolf's voice was a loud, growling mess, while the smooth soprano of the man holding his sword was quiet, and clear. Cuu was wearing naught but some old pants, a size too small, and a pair of rustic boots; both well kept and clean. This stranger who had insulted him was adorned in an whole array of finery, all worn down and dirty. Most distracting was the black male corset over his short blue vest; likely holding in a slightly-flabby gut, Cuu thought.

The greasy man's bravado dies; his brown hair flops out of place as he begins scratching nervously at his scruffy face. "Y-you speak that Tongue? Oh, uh..."

Cuu loomed over the man, speaking plainly. "I speak nearly every Tongue in Grimmarchen. You tend to learn them quickly, living all across the empire."

"Ha ha, great..." The man's hand started to shake on the grip of his weapon. "So. Are y-you here about the debt?"

"Debt?" The Wolf tilts his head, the wolven ears flicking. "Are you with the cat?"

The green eyes of the cowardly man flare angrily, as he suddenly draws his sword; thrusting it up to Cuu's throat with inhuman speed. The thrust was faster than the eye could see, and caused a wave of air to displace nearby the tables and chair. It even knocked a few mugs and bottles over. It stops just before it could make contact with his skin. The other patrons, most of which are grey of hair, look on in surprise. It's not every day that something interesting actually happens in the old town of Antiquity.

The Wolf is unfazed, grabbing the foil quickly between two fingers like a toy. "She's in the Medicine Woman's house, at the southern edge of town, with a cracked rib. Ask the woman outside in the red hood where the spare key is if you want to see her. Flee with her, and I'll track you both down."

Flicking the pointed metal prod away like a tick, Cuu exits the Tavern; followed quickly by the sheepish stranger behind him. He asks about the key, and is told by Doctor Oswald that it's under the flower-pot under the front bench; by the outer window of the guestroom. He sprints off like a madman, possibly just to get away from the walking horror that was The Wolf; or maybe, to speak with his accomplice. It didn't matter either way to Cuu.

"Ok, are you really sure I can trust two thieves to be alone in my house?" Dorothy asks as they walk further down the yellow brick road.

"I know Cat's scent, and I got a good whiff of Sweaty as well." Cuu replied. "If they grab anything and run, I'll bring you back whatever they take-"

"-You may have to wash your things of some blood, though."

...

Baldur, out of breath, walked around the swanky abode of the "Medicine Woman" that the brute was speaking of...

Now, Antiquity was a sleepy little town, and a well off one as to boot. One where people wouldn't notice a ring, piece of silk, or a ingot of steel go missing; at least not right away. When he had found that a McDonald lived in the town, he knew it was a jackpot. When he found out it was none other than the heir to the McDonald's Estate? The pot grew way fucking bigger.

When he found out it was a Heroic Tale; The Beauty, of all things? Author above, it was as if all the Angels of The Turnback had descended to kiss all over his bare naked body. He even had the perfect in. A beautiful woman he could trust, with connections to a Knight of Roundtable; one who could turn bloody-fucking invisible... and one who needed the money just as much as him.

Now, he was sitting next to his friend Shesh; who was lain out in a bed, wheezing like an old hag.

"Hello, Handsome." She rasped, sitting up. "Met the town's Doggy, have we?"

She brushed the back of her hand across his damp brow, looking at him with those cute blue eyes; the ones that he had seen for the first time all those months ago, darting by to rescue him just before The Hatter was about to chop his prick off with a spoon.

A fucking spoon.

Baldur returns to the present, speaking with a comforting false bravado. "Him? Oh yeah, I just; you know, beat the information out of him. One good left hook to the-"

"He scared you shitless." She corrected him, smiling weakly with a missing tooth. "Don't worry, Handsome; he scares me too."

A shudder goes down The Charming's spine. It was normal for him to be scared. It was normal for him to be Author-Damned fucking terrified; running behind something while Shesh beat it bloody with her blackjack. That's how they had worked so far, and it was great! But never once had Shesh been scared of something; or someone. The idea of her feeling fear was just... wrong.

"Haha, nice one, Shesh." He taps her on the shoulder with a limp fist.

Those adorable blue eyes became fearful slits. "I'm not joking, Baldur."

Hearing his own name come from those lips was rare, and when it happened, he knew Shesh was serious. His next words were a half-way mix of fearful crying, and manic cackling.

"We are so fucked."

...

"You never did tell me about those boots."

Cuu was walking ahead of Dorothy down the dirt path just past the western exit from; leading into the other half of the woods. The dense brush was cleaved by the path, winding through the thicket like a serpent. This serpent had shed many a skin, as the gravel that Dorothy had lain last year had already been worn into the path, or kicked into the bushes. It was while observing this that Dorothy's eyes had spotted those boots Cuu had taken back from Pearl; bringing the question to her mind's forefront.

"Or why you refused to use my father's old boots" she added.

He grumbled, stepping further from her as they walked. "These boots will be what get me back home."

Dorothy, thinking herself clever, tilts her had in confusion; in the same way Cuu would when asking a question. Seeing this, The Wolf huffs.

"I am in exile, Doctor Oswald." He says, holding his hands together, and twiddling his thumbs; unsure of whether or not to even speak on the matter. "My father falsified a theft halfway through that week's stop, at a town a few miles west of Roundtable; with me as the culprit. Only once the soles of these boots have worn out will I be permitted to return to The Great Caravan, as is tradition."

Her jaw went agape. "Why would he do that!?"

"I asked him to." Cuu replied, looking down at his boots. "The Great Caravan was coming to a very important stop. One it only makes only once every twenty years. Roundtable; where The Great Caravan first formed. Obviously, I would have been spotted from a mile away by their Storytellers, and one or more of the Knights would have been called before my father could diffuse the situation."

He noticed Dorothy wince at the mention of the Knights of Roundtable; it confused him, as most common folk saw them as heroes. He could still see them, as he had on that rainy night; the seven of them, standing around the stone-statue as that sad, old man's granddaughter pulled the sword from it. The crowning of a new King...

"Mister Cuu?" Dorothy tugs at the side of his pants. "Are you alright?"

His voice wobbling slightly, he asks. "Doctor Oswald. Is there a place where no one can hear us speak?"

"Well, since those two criminals are in my house; the little stream down by Gran's house is rather nice; and I know Gran herself can keep a secret." She says, looking worried now. "What's wrong? You seem troubled."

Cuu looked down at the small woman he was walking with; feeling as though it were his father who had asked the question. While the resemblance was little, he felt it all the same. They both had those damned Reader's Eyes. They had both saved his life. Now, his Doctor wears the same hood as his father. It was causing his teeth to itch, and his palms to sweat. Cuu was never one for prayer, but he may just have to pray.

Pray that this kind woman wouldn't die for him like his father had.

...

Dorothy arrives at her grandmother's house, red hood over her shoulders, basket in hand, and a Wolf right behind her. It all seemed a bit much like the old stories. But, in those stories, the grandmother couldn't fly on a broom, nor set things on fire with a mere thought. The door to the blackened wooden cottage creeks open, allowing her and Cuu inside.

"Oh, my pretty." Thedora bends down, hugging her granddaughter with all her strength; her pointed hat aiming like a spear at Cuu's nose. "Its so good to see you again; but why so soon?"

"I have a new patient. She cracked a rib fighting a certain wolf, and I'm out of tonics." Dorothy replies, looking around for her favorite little friend. "Where's Winkie?"

And there he was.

A long-legged cat, black as midnight, with a single arcane blue eye; the other long since scratched out by something. The critter froze in place, staring past her, and up to Cuu. At first Dorothy thought the little thing may bolt away, and go to his usual sleeping spot next to the fireplace. It certainly bolted, but not away.

"Ow! Damned cat!" Cuu shouted; Winkie had hopped up onto his bare shoulder, giving him a few scratches with several sets of claws.

The Wicked Witch's black cat then began rubbing it's face against Cuu, purring madly.

"Oh, he's missed you, Wolf." Said Gran, motion the two of them further into the home. "Its been decades since he last saw Minse. She always loved petting on him while we chatted."

The Wolf stared daggers at the feline on his shoulder; which itself comes to a rest, and quickly falls asleep. "Cats do not live that long, Elder."

"They do when they've been to the Other-Side, little Cuu." Theodora pulls out a glass bottle of... water?

Dorothy knew her Gran to be sparing with her personal stash of vintages, but this was a new level of stingy for the old woman. The two of them are soon seated at the old woman's dining table, with Gran taking the basket; walking off to grab the medicine. Cuu began rubbing under Winkie's chin, to which the cat lovingly purred yet more.

"I've never seen him so cuddly." Dorothy comments, sipping from her glass of water. "Usually it takes a few minutes for him to find a lap to sit in."

"I've worn worse." Cuu says, continuing to pet the cat; at least this one wasn't robbing him.

Gran returns with the medicine, taking her own seat. "So, how have you three been?"

"Good." Says Dorothy, adding. "Well, I'll have to buy more food than... wait, three?"

"Yes, three." The Hood speaks in her mind. "I may be quiet, but that doesn't mean I'm not here."

The Storyteller blushes. "Oh! The Hood. Yes, it found me last night; it's been calling me it's Wearer. Which reminds me-"

What she saw as she spoke was something Dorothy never thought she would ever see. A look of genuine shock on the face of her wise, old mentor. Those beady emerald eyes dart to Cuu, the Hood, and then back to Cuu. Gran's usual smile sinks into a deep, wrinkled frown; she removes her hat, placing it over her heart, and rising from her chair. The Wicked Witch bows to The Wolf.

"My condolences for your loss, Mister Bludmont."