Into The Woods

Bartleby Wolfe was walking along with his attention on the pages of a book. He still did not know what all the strange markings meant, but Fred had promised to teach him. He hadn’t realized how important this reading was to the humans. It seemed to be some sort of status symbol to them. Fred had already taught him that his position as a philosopher to the court of Prince Robin would be in danger if the price found out about his lack of this skill. Bartleby thought it would be best if he pretended like he knew what he was doing, which is what led him to be walking with a book.

He felt a bit silly moving while “reading”, but the other humans he passed just nodded to him. They were very strange animals. But he wanted to learn about them, so that meant learning all of their odd ways and customs. And some of them were very, very odd. But there were a few he was beginning to enjoy. Things like the way humans baked sweet things to eat.

( Bartleby paused )

He was just walking along the street, trying to get use to the feeling of being upright. He stopped walking when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He stood in front of the glass window of the bakery, blinking at what he saw. He was looking forward so intently most people passing by him thought he was trying to decide which sweet treats to purchase. In actuality, he hadn’t even noticed the pastries or breads. He was staring at his reflection, trying to see something he could recognize.

Bartleby Wolfe. That was the name he was using now. It was so human. Before, there was no real need for names. They all knew each other by their scent. Some of the other wolves had called him Big Bad; his mother used Big Boy. But they were just words. It was his scent that his family and friends recognized. It was his scent that made him who he was. But that was then. Now, he had to learn names. They were much more important than scents.

( Now everything was different )

Well this was just fantastic. Fan. Tastic.

Robin was thoroughly put out. With himself. He knew better, he truly did. In fact, it was a standing rule with himself: no long trips or outings when it was close to the new and full moons. He had a calendar made up with those dates specifically outlined so he would not make such mistakes as this.

Well. This was not so much a mistake as a serious misjudgement on his part. He should have taken his own horse on this trip. But he’d not anticipated the delays along the way, and he was near enough to home that he thought he could ride all day and make it at least to an area he knew well enough to know where to hide. Instead, the horse picked up a stone, causing him to have to slow their pace.

And once the full moon rose, once his transformation began, the animal had bolted. Robin hoped that he would be able to find the creature again, as the thought of it wandering about with its tack still on was bothering him. Had it been his own horse, he would have continued to head for the castle, clever beast that he was. But all of that was wishful thinking, because it did not change the fact that he was here, in an unfamiliar wood, and he was once again a frog.

Robin had not forgotten the lessons learned when this form was the one he had to live in every day. He was cautious. He was careful. And he made his way to as safe a spot as he could find, a half rotted log with a hollow just big enough to hide a little, frog-sized person. Then he settled in to wait for morning, and prayed that nothing would find and eat him between now and then.

ooc note: continued from here

The gossiper seemed to be spouting nothing of interest after all. Just a windbag looking to sell his wares by bragging that the castle only purchased his elixir of health. Which was enough reason for Verity to decide she never would. If elixirs were what they wanted, she would be more than happy to provide a few of her own-with very interesting side affects.

She was about to turn away, when a familiar voice spoke in her ear. A familiar voice that belonged to a certain someone she had trusted enough to tell where she lived, invite to her home, and was still expecting for dinner. And he already had news for her. News that was startling, but highly welcome. So her new friend had gained a position in the castle. Could it be that, at last, things might be beginning to turn her way?

Keeping her face emotionless, despite the turmoil of excitement she felt, she reached down to take him by the elbow, drawing Bartleby away from the crowd. "Why there you are." She spoke loudly enough to make their sudden removal from the crowd excusable, but quietly enough to not draw excessive attention. "Yes, I am just about done with my shopping. I thought we could perhaps stop by the pub for a meat pie for lunch?"

Once they were well out of earshot of the crowd, she stopped and turned to face him. Despite no ears close by, her voice became a low hiss, to prevent it carrying. "The castle? Bartleby, how did you manage such a thing?"

It seemed her urge to trust him was going to pay off.

The market was always the place to get the latest news. Especially regarding the goings-on in the castle of that little bitch and her husband. Peasants loved to gossip about royalty, thinking their pathetic little lives were nothing in comparison to the wonders that must certainly be found when one held the crown.

The insignificant fools were absolutely right.

More than gossip about the king and queen, however, Verity was very interested to hear if there was any news regarding herself. She still lived on the hope that everyone thought she was dead. To that end, she once again donned a peasant disguise, making herself appear just a little too old to possibly be the "evil queen" they would all remember.

It was an odd aftereffect of the Incident. Prior to his time away from home, Robin would never, could never, really imagine being alone. There was always someone nearby as he was growing up, always. Attendants, servants, courtiers, family both distant and immediate. If there was any time wherein he was left to himself, it was fleeting and of no note. Nor had he ever really wanted to have such a thing happen. There was comfort in being surrounded by others.

It was something that he had dearly missed when he had been on his own. Never again would he take companionship for granted. After all, it was the longing for human contact that had been the greatest motivator in his bargain with The Girl. But that time had also taught him something that he’d never expected.

( Occasionally, he enjoyed being alone. )

Her supply of fly agaric was running horribly low. She loved the mushrooms, both for their toxicity and the pretty colors. They always looked so nice in a jar in her kitchen, and it only took a little of the poison to turn a victim to a blubbering mess, and little more to end their life completely. A worthwhile item for any witch to have handy.