Into The Woods

This was probably very foolish. It was a bad idea. Bad enough that he’d not told anyone where he was going today. Just as he’d offered no explanation as to why he’d needed a basket. That had garnered him some very strange looks from his footmen, but Robin was used to simply staring down such looks. Though he knew that he wouldn’t get away with it if his mother asked, as she was the one that taught him that trick.

( However, she didn’t ask. )

It was a perfect day for a ride. The weather was crisp, but not too cold. Too much of a chill in the air would prohibit letting his horse run too far or too fast. An over-warm horse on a cold day was a recipe for an ill mount, and Robin always took great care to treat his animals right. After all, he had a better idea of what they went through than any other person could possibly know.

( It was a perfect day for a rid for other reasons as well. )

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.

Robin moved deftly past the stalls, giving the horses within cursory glances for the most part. Now and then, he stopped to look more closely at a particular animal, but none had yet to truly catch his eye. All were fine examples of horseflesh, which was what he’d come to expect of this particular vendor. The man only found the finest to offer at his auctions.

His difficulty in finding any particular animal to hold his interest might be due to the fact that he really didn’t need a new horse. He had a perfectly good mount that served him well, and he was fond of the horse. Not enough that he’d given him a name, but he was a quality animal, from fine bloodstock. Robin wasn’t here so much to find new horses for his stable as he was to stave off boredom.

He was vastly looking forward to Mr. Wolfe’s arrival at the castle. It had been a few days since he’d seen the philosopher that he’d met in the woods, and with each passing day, Robin grew more and more anxious for his appearance. It was getting close to the new moon, and he’d really wanted to have more than a few days time to get the man settled and get acquainted before he had to seclude himself. There was no point in scaring the man off with his shameful secret. Robin doubted, as forward thinking as Mr. Wolfe seemed to be, that he’d be willing to discuss the meaning of life with a frog.

Robin heaved a deep sigh, disappointed that he’d let himself get dragged down by such unpleasant thoughts when he was trying to keep himself from dwelling upon them. Distractedly, he moved to the next stall and stopped dead, looking at the most incredible equine he’d ever seen. Now that was what he’d been hoping to find. Almost reverently, he moved forward, breathing softly, “Oh you are a beauty, aren’t you?”

The only question now was whether or not he could manage to purchase him in the auction. It was not much of a question, though, as Robin was willing to pay whatever it took to win. He was a prince after all.

So it seemed she had a new pupil, of sorts. Young Rowan was  a willing student, at least, if completely lost in the kitchen. Far be it for the kindly old woman to make the girl feel worse, but she couldn't help but continue to wonder at the ineptitude of Rowan's mother and grandmother. Who in their right mind felt they were protecting a girl by not allowing her to learn how to cook and bake? It was an essential part of life, unless one wanted to live on uncooked roots, or buy expensive pre-baked goods from the market.

Not that the market was useless. It was where Mother Goose was heading, as a matter of fact. If she was going to be teaching the girl how to cook, she was going to need supplies. Lots and lots of supplies. Far more than she could procure from her own garden. With a basket over her arm, she said goodbye to Osgood, the owl that stood sentry at her home. She stepped through the gate, and set off at a quick pace toward the center of town.

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. )