ACT ONE
The midnight ambiance might've been nice if it weren't for the conditions of where they'd just come from. The night was long, just as it had been during the winter. Only it was early autumn, and the midnight was strangely hot. At least to Danny, it was.
Dipper was draped over his back, so soundlessly asleep he could've passed for dead. And his sprained leg didn't do much more than prove it. He'd taken a bad fall into a strangely dug pit by a thick forest, after running away from what looked like a burly lumberjack. Danny wasn't as sure so.
His mind wandered over Ivor and Twilight, and for a moment, he almost felt guilty for letting them worry for so long. He had procrastinated on heading back 'home', considering his bad wound. It hurt to peel the clothing off after the blood had dried. He'd gone and buried the undershirt in the pit and covered it up well enough that he almost couldn't remember where it was. That was Ivor's shirt. And ironically enough, the deer-man couldn't have cared less about his clothes, rather Twilight would be the one to dig a rabbit hole over the issue, and dive head-first into it.
Twilight would kill him.
He laughed a little at that and stopped short to stop the stinging that stirred in his chest. Nothing was funny about the situation, anyway.
Suddenly, a strange breeze passed the woods. It was almost comforting-- familiar, maybe. The teen stopped, and glanced around, gripping his friend's hands tighter. There hadn't been any really strange experiences in the woods just yet. Other than a lumberjack, no one was aware of any possible dangers out in the night.
Danny furrowed his brows, then shrugged. He swiftly refaced the path and continued on his way.
Rustle.
Instinctively, he perked an ear, fingers slipping. Dipper was barely touching the ground-- he'd almost dropped him. He might've sworn if he hadn't felt as if something was watching so closely. Fixing Dipper back over his shoulders, Danny trekked further down the path, throat tight.
"Haha, you're so gullible..."
Something barely whispered. But senses suddenly heightened, he caught it. Before Danny could react, a luminescent-white feline crept out from the brush, an amused look on its face.
Danny walked faster.
But the cat followed.
Scampering ahead, she stopped the halfa in his tracks, glaring up at him, almost playfully.
"Hey, kid; If you're gonna walk right through my haunt, you might as well say hello," She hissed, before Danny had quickly and politely stepped over her, and hurried on his way. Her eyes quickly caught the young cervitaur draped over his back, and blinked.
"Tired of carrying that dead body around?" She purred mischievously. She flicked her tail as Danny stopped in his tracks, returning a late glare.
"He's not dead. He's... asleep."
The ghastly cat smirked, following Danny as he walked deeper into the wood. She chuckled, "Hah, that's funny. What you said. Sounds familiar." She narrowed her eyes along the path, mind seeming to have wandered. "Because he's definitely asleep,"
They were silent for a moment, and the cat frowned. She began to hover alongside her new companion, shifting a look towards him. Then held back a laugh.
"Did you kill him?" she'd broken the silence, more so shattered it. "I mean, you are a werewolf, aren't you? And... you're glowing--"
She paused, her empty eyes suddenly brightened in realization. Maybe even relief.
"Like a ghost," she finally spat out the words, "...I can feel that you are. I just know it."
Only Danny didn't answer. The feline took that as a sign to go on.
"So you're like me? Did you-- what, die at a party or something?" It almost sounded sarcastic.
"What?" Danny exclaimed, just a bit too loud. A few soft rustles in the near treetops sounded, and the cat grinned.
She padded softly back to his side, barely brushing her coat across his ankle. "I mean, you look young. Or maybe you're one of... those guys," The rest of it was muttered, and Danny didn't care to pick out what the strange feline had said. He only shook his head and continued down the faint trail. The cat's voice picked up just a bit.
"Anyway, moral of the story; Things happen, and life is just as slippery as the sand between your paws. Sometimes it gets stuck. Y'know those little grains that just... cling to your fur?" She flicked her tail, bemused. She turned and glared at it as if it were a menace.
"But... I don't think you're old enough for that story. Unless you've been dead long enough,"
As if on cue, to her end of the conversation, a thin streak of golden light filtered through an open patch in the trees. Danny sighed with relief, whilst the feline hissed painfully. She shielded her eyes with a paw, tail raised and quivering.
"What is that light? Do you live in that place? It's burning my eye sockets." She grumbled.
Danny almost smiled, "Awesome-- which means you'll leave now?"
"My thoughts exactly."
She lowered her guard again, paddling off into the dark. Then she turned around, staring up at Danny. "I'll find you again, ghost-wolf. And if any other kitty passes by, tell them that Midnight owns this pathetic piece of territory. 'Else they'll have both their ears chewed off." Her ear twitched, and she scampered far off, until her ghostly glow was no longer visible.
Ivor paced the dining room anxiously. He held his arms behind his back, brows furrowed, eyes tracing the circle a stirred in, sure he would have made tracks soon. Dipper had run off earlier that day, and when the youngest of his three hadn't returned, his heart skipped every other beat. Especially after Danny had gone off to search for him.
It was well past midnight, now, and neither of the boys had returned. He'd tried to convince himself that if one returned without the other, was when he would only really have to worry. For now, all he could do was wait.
It was a bit strange, now; he'd been so used to being isolated in the woods on his own, and now he was responsible for three frankly irresponsible children. Except for Twilight, of course. She never really did anything but read, fuss at Danny a bit, and occasionally pop into his room to ask for a new read.
They'd only been here for so long, and the princess had gone through eight books already. They'd only lived here for about a month, and they already felt like close family to him. He bit his lip as he let his mind wander.
Ivor sighed, running his gaze across the room. He picked up on the little sounds, like the creaking of the broken shower in the bathroom Twilight had just slipped into. He only heard a faint whistle of wind; tonight was chilly, and the sound had directed him to the crackle of the fireplace. Then an offbeat crackle.
Another one.
Walking.
Without a moment of hesitation, Ivor sprang up from the dining room, and dashed towards the door. He raised his height just a bit until he could properly see out the small window atop the front door. The porch lights had mischievously dimmed his sight and glared onto the glass, but the blurred, distorted silhouette approaching his lawn meant just one thing to him.
"Danny," Ivor breathed, "It's Danny,"
He heard the bathroom door creak open in harmony with the front door, as he was greeted with a matted, muddy teen, who's hand was just well away from the doorknob. He glanced, up, almost appearing guilty and terrified.
"Uh, I'm back," he muttered, arms quivering as he struggled to hold up Dipper any longer.
Ivor's arms swept the two into a hug, as he breathed a laugh of relief. He didn't let go, and Danny didn't dare struggle.
"Oh, thank goodness..." He was shaking now, but finally managed to let go of the embrace. "Where on earth were you two? A-and Dipper, is he--"
"Complicated." Danny interrupted, tiredly. "I just... need to go to bed. And he's fine. We both are. Just... tired," Ivor stared a moment, concerned. But shaking it off, he placed a soft hand over the boy's shoulder.
"Understandable," He tried to laugh, "I may as well be heading to bed, too. Oh, you're not hungry, or anything?"
"No. No, I'm good," Danny held up a hand, backing towards the cots. "I'll be sure to make up for it in the morning." He turned and rolled his eyes a bit. It was still clear in his tone.
Missing the sarcasm, Ivor nodded, content with a slight smile plastered on his face.
Danny hopped off into bed, tucked Dipper in, and shut off the lights.
The door creaked once more, as the deer-man shut his bedroom door, and the final streak of light was gone.
Ah, Princess. Whatever is the matter, this time?
Twilight shook herself awake, heart in her throat. She sat up, shaking briskly to chase away the static lights that dotted her vision.
"I'm not in the mood, Parasite," Twilight grumbled, rubbing her eye with a wince. She was sure she felt the presence of the Parasite looming over her, yet again.
Don’t you think such a wee-little thing like me would grow lonely and tired, all by myse-- yourself?
Twilight groaned, sneering at no one in particular. "Enough of these foalish games. If you want to leave so badly, then be my guest."
The Parasite sighed, and Twilight could've sworn it'd shaken its head in frustration.
You’re that much of an idiot? The Parasite breathed in her ear. I think you may have forgotten I am stuck here with you, only for my survival!
The mare grit her teeth, glaring up at the ceiling as if the Parasite's very presence was in the room with her. "And your acts are all selfish ones. With a ravaged hunger for feeding off of my thoughts--"
Oh, quiet down you lifeless pebble! The Parasite burst, You know nothing of me, nor of my kind. And you never will, if you don’t get to see the light of day.
You will not make me angry, Princess. Cold season nears, and you won’t be stepping a single hoof on your land again unless I wish it. And y- we won’t be running back like the coward w- you are if I don’t wish it so.
Only until the Parasite had settled, and its presence had dissolved, had Twilight finally been able to process what the pest had said. Her heart lept again, and suddenly, everything appeared too surreal.
"Wait, how in Equestria could you have known that?"
"Parasite?"
Twilight growled, "Coward..."
More silence followed after. Twilight sighed, her exhales loose and shaky.
So she curled back up under the bedsheets and fell asleep.
And the ground dropped beneath her.
Awoken with utter shock and fear, Twilight breathlessly settled into the new environment she'd opened her eyes to. An ocean. A black, silky ocean. It felt like slick fingers were reaching for her, and she consciously lifted a foreleg, too shaken to speak immediately. Only once realization had dawned upon the mare, her rage boiled down her terror.
"Parasite! Stop this!" Her shout was still a weak quiver, and Parasite only laughed.
Oh, Princess, you’re no fun! I only wanted to show you something. A little... reminder.
"What... reminder?" Twilight asked, tentatively. Her fur stood on end when she stepped back into something soft. "And what did you bring me here for? I am not asking for answers; I-I’m demanding them."
The air grew tense, and Twilight was almost unsure why.
The Parasite spoke again. Oh, Princess. You really are that much of an idiot, aren’t you? How pathetic.
Its voice shifted behind the Princess' head, and she winced. You do not demand answers from me, Princess. I do have full control over you, after all.
And you best remember our little deal. How many hints must I leave around for you to remember? The Cold season grows nearer every breath you take, Precious Stone.
Take too many and you might just run out.
With that, the air left her lungs. And Twilight cried out.
Red and silver. Silver and red.
His eyes were blinded by the senseless vibrance of this world. Only once his eyes adjusted, was he able to pick apart the colors splayed in his dream. He was sitting, and there was a dead weight pulling him further down. Danny couldn't stand.
There was a faint ambiance of the wood that he couldn't quite pick apart, either. A noise in his head that seemingly didn't have a sound. Something relieved from his shoulders, and he yanked his arms upwards as the weight vanished So he began running.
The dirt made no sound beneath his feet, as if he were flying. He never stopped-- only ceased to a walk. Glancing behind, there was nothing there. As if the forest he woke up in had vanished. And the path seemed to fade from behind him. Like it lost his eyes, and he never remembered seeing it.
Danny stopped.
He sucked in a breath and stopped, staring at his surroundings without shifting a foot.
He was here. And here was not home.
Before he could comment to himself, the sound of chatter erupted from above. Stumbling backward, he huffed, throwing a gaze up into the treetops, where a wide eye dodged down to the commotion. It blinked and shut its eye with a soft rustle.
"Loosened eyes," It whispered, blinking open. "Loosened eyes,"
Two more sprouted nearby and glanced around, "Loosened eyes, Loosened eyes..."
Five more, ten more, several dozen-- The bright white of their eyes reflected off the dull of the dirt and Danny squinted his eyes, scrambling to get back onto his feet. Frozen in fear, he stood in place, shielding his eyes.
"Loosened eyes, Loosened eyes," they chanted, "Loosened eyes!"
The ground flooded beneath his boots and pulled him in, and before Danny was aware, the air had left his lungs and he was drowning.
Fish-like spirits with hollowed-out eyes and clear skin surrounded him, brushing their fins against his skin. The chanting was drowned out, quite literally, but these fish began to speak. Through the ambiance of the water pooling his ears, their voices echoed.
"Obtuse, distress, disorder," few whispered, others muttering seemingly meaningless jargon. "Obstruction, burden, distortion,"
One flickered by him unusually, and turned to face him while the rest continued to chant.
"You were never meant to leave," it breathed, scales sparkling, "And now, you will drown here with your brothers,"
The fish vanished, as with everything else, and Danny plummetted back into consciousness.
Somehow, he could still feel the grip of water at his body, and with a sudden burst of doubt, he struggled to free himself from an invisible hold. Only once he sprung up, did he realize he was only in bed and the sheets were tossed wildly around him.
With almost a sigh of relief, he brought his knees up to his chest, observing his surroundings. Ivor, across the room inside the kitchen, seemingly oblivious to Danny's presence at all. Dipper always told him he talked in his sleep.
As if on cue, the youngest of the trio emerged from Ivor's bedroom cradling a stack of books. He trotted right past Danny, as if he wasn't even there. He furrowed his brows, albeit curious. Was he invisible?
"...all I could find," Danny found himself unintentionally listening in, "I did... kinda look through things a bit, and I don't think any of these would actually help. Don't wanna do more harm than good, in a sorta way,"
He glanced back at Danny, eyes widening. Only once Ivor placed his hand over Dipper's, did he snap back into reality and twist away. He muttered something under his breath, eyes dodging slightly as if he were struggling to lock eye contact.
Danny shook his head and leaned against the window. It was only faintly drizzling out; a good enough day for a walk. Strange enough as this place was, he couldn't help but grow curious at the sound of crickets this time in the morning.
"Danny?" The teen jumped at the sound of his name, turning to face a sheepish looking Dipper, "Uh, you good?"
"Yeah," he croaked, raising a brow, "Sure. What do you want?"
"Ivor's request, not mine-- but, could you go assist Twilight, or something? We're disinfecting this place for insects, I guess?" He seemed just as clueless as Danny, now. "It's probably just termites, I guess. "
Swallowing a remark, Danny shrugged and rose from the bed instead. Throwing a sideways glance in Ivor's direction, he ambled reluctantly into the Storage.
Ivor scraped the mouth of his mug. He watched the youngest of his three struggle to remove and replace each of the twelve bedsheets and pillowcases, and follow to pile them up on his shoulders.
"Is everything alright, Dipper?" Ivor finally managed to coke out, grimacing when he was sure he saw the boy flinch. "Ever since you ran off, you've been--"
"It's nothing, really!" Dipper laughed with it, tensing his shoulders so one of the sheets slid off. "It's just been exhausting. Just a sprained leg, nothing more or less. I can deal," He placed his fists at his waist triumphantly, and Ivor couldn't help but chuckle.
"Well, alright. I can't argue with that," he sighed, feeling his anxiety fade away, "Just keep in mind that if you ever want to talk to me, I'll always be here," He was even more sure he heard the kid scoff. Ivor rolled his eyes.
A loud crackle erupted from outside. Either another storm was in their midst, or something was outside in his garden again. He rose from his seat to investigate, only Twilight stormed into the room, bursting at the seams.
"Where's Daniel?" She asked, surprisingly calm-sounding despite her demeanor. Ivor and Dipper both exchanged glances.
"Danny?" Ivor was the first to speak, "I... figured he was with you? Dipper...?" he turned his attention to the cervitaur, who looked as if he'd just seen a ghost. He only shrugged and ran into the pantry with the old blankets.
"I apparently sent him to assist you. I figured you would appreciate the gesture, but I'm assuming he skipped out,"
"Help me?" the mare almost seemed offended, "No-- he did 'assist' me. But..." Twilight shook her head.
"Er, he ran off. Something broke in the process." She rolled her eyes, "I'm sure it was an accident."
Ivor widened his eyes, brows furrowed. Danny had certainly been acting just as strange-- if not more-- than Dipper, at least since he ran off to go find the missing preteen. He felt a twinge of guilt, not having noticed until now. Would anything have been different if he just talked to him? Not usual for his age, he was certainly secretive, just to ridiculous extents.
Could Danny have gotten hurt out there, as well? Was he hiding an injury just so he didn't worry anyone? It didn't seem too far fetched. At least according to all he knew and heard about the strange kid ever since the storm that brought them together in the first place.
He was always the one to jump into the face of danger at the cost of himself; That was the first trait Ivor had picked up on him, after all. He'd practically saved Dipper from drowning in the flood near the cliffs. He was the only one to go after him when he went missing, too. But the way the others talked about him only made him out to be some sort of ghostly apparition, and nothing else.
Now that the pattern had properly formed in his mind, Ivor wasn't so sure what should be considered 'strange' to Danny at all. He almost wished he hadn't thought about it so much. Nonetheless, Danny was still under his care; and while he was still standing, the kid was one among his many responsibilities.
With a soft sigh, Ivor held his head in his hands. "I should go after him,"
Twilight raised a brow, an unintelligible expression on her face. Dipper had just walked in with a new stack of sheets and throws, and nearly tripped when Ivor spoke.
"What?"
Ivor tilted his head, "I need to find Danny. He's still just a kid, and the woods out there is merciless. What kind of f-guardian would I be if I just left him out there to fend on his own? I know he's--"
"No!" Dipper exclaimed, clean blankets spilling out of his arms. He cleared his throat and collected himself, as well as the mess, "No, he needs space, I think. Uh, he's a bit stressed, is all?" He almost sounded skeptical, himself.
"I would feel a lot better if you just told me why you--"
Dipper looked frantically towards Twilight, who had jumped a bit at the outburst. "I told you, he's fine, I'm fine, just a bit tired. You shouldn't have to worry so much over a hopeless case; We're not here to burden you, man. At least I don't."
He motioned towards the bathroom, and quickly walked off with a washcloth.
Ivor glanced worriedly at Twilight who only shrugged. He sighed, threading fingers through his hair.
"He told me Danny was electrocuted that night." Ivor whispered, "In the bare woods,"
"That's odd," Twilight nodded.
"It's why I'm so concerned. He's lying to me-- they both are. I only want what's best for them. You three have no idea how much you mean to me. You're all I have as of now. And I'll protect you with my life," He bit his lip, shutting his eyes. "Even if it's the last thing I do."
Twilight walked over, breaking the stillness.
"I know. And I totally understand what you're talking about. This might seem hard to believe, but maybe Pines is right?" Ivor didn't move, so Twilight understood to go on. "Things have been stressful lately-- for all of us. Including you. Getting through this is going to be rough, but we'll make it. And as much as I'd rather not, I understand where Daniel is coming from. As everyone else, he needs to be given some space. Occasionally," Twilight added, rolling her eyes.
Ivor breathed, rubbing his eyes, "You're right, I suppose. Am I... being too protective?"
"No, no, no, of course not!" Twilight winced, "All I'm saying is to give... people space when necessary. Uh, not like I'm implying that you..."
Ivor laughed, ruffling the mare's mane. "You're alright. Really, I appreciate it. There's been so much going on, I never really got to process anything properly. I'm sorry if I'm just another burden on your back," he smiled, as if he were only joking. Twilight let it slide, embracing the gesture.
"Of course not. I honestly don't know how far into the wilderness we'd be if it weren't for you. Your friend fairly lacks any sense of direction."
He shook his head and nodded, watching the warped reflection of his face in the river. Daarin stifled a laugh, staring at the weird glow of his eyes against the water. He awaited nightfall, so he could watch his face glow in the reflection of the pool. He couldn't dare go in the stream during night, though. The underlands went freezing past afternoon, despite how close they were from the Highlands. He'd never been up there before, because he could never figure out how to climb that high. He was also sort of afraid of heights. But ever since meeting his new best friend, it began to fade away. He wasn't sure why.
Losing interest in his own reflection, Daarin glanced up at the cliffs. He winced, recalling when his friend had fallen while trying to climb down into the underlands. The blood was there for a long time, and Daarin was reluctant to remove it; maybe it was a werewolf-thing to leave traces of blood and stuff everywhere. Like marking territory. But Daarin's friend was unique-- he was sure of it, somehow. He didn't seem to have as many were-traits as he had seen in other werewolves. Or maybe he just needed to get to know them better.
So he didn't feel too bad washing away the blood trail by angling the waterfall. He would walk by the cliffwall sometimes, and shoo away scavengers who pecked at the clean spot as if expecting there to be a corpse there, or something. Stupid birds.
After a bit of thought and boredom, Daarin had decided to prepare for a snack for his strange misfit werewolf friend. After observing hunting techniques of a pack that passed through, he figured a nice gift would be a fat, fresh bird. He was pretty sure werewolves were carnivores.
Only, Daarin lacked any knowledge of hunting, and returned to his den without a single piece of prey. Maybe his friend didn't like meat, like other werewolves? The highlands were probably flowing with mystical sweets and honey; maybe that was why he always brought back strange new foods whenever he visited. His favorite might've been the strange, squishy substance he called marshmallows. He even taught Daarin how to roast foods over the fire to make them taste better. He did fail to mention the same didn't apply to treeberries.
Shaking his head to clear his train of thought, the small creature wandered around the river, clearing the plain of rabbits as he walked by.
"Hello, snake!" he called out, scaring off a feeding fawn who vanished in an instant. Stumbling over to a wide tree stump, Daarin observed the grass snake up close, heart racing with excitement. He'd never seen a creature so bright green. "You're so cool-looking! Want to be friends?"
The snake in question hissed, slinking into the woods beneath some brush. Daarin sighed, resting his head on the stump. Every other creature that wasn't any sort of predator to him was just as uninterested in his friendship as the notorious manticore. Ren's only interest was catching and feasting well during Cold Season. Now that he thought about it, if Ren really wanted to kill and eat him, he would have done so already. He was just playing cat-and-mouse. Daarin visibly shook; What would happen if he tired out this silly game? Would his only purpose be just another victim in the prey pile?
Glancing around at the mouth of the Orange Forest, chills rippled down his spine. Ren was most active during Autumn Fall, yet he hadn't heard of him all day. Was he watching him? Or just off hunting in a new territory?
Subconsciously, Daarin backed away from the woods and scampered off back towards the cliffwall waterfall. He could teach himself to fish. The only creature he ever witnessed fishing in the underlands was Ren himself. Even the large birds of the Highlands were too sheepish to fish in the same territory as the manticore. Daarin was just going to have to be the first.
Only once he gathered the bravery to 'borrow' Ren's fishing river while he was gone, an unfamiliar ambiance decorated the air. Something similar to that of a rockslide, just subtle. Glancing around, clearly shaken up, Daarin prepared to flee as the air around him suddenly chilled.
"Ren!" Daarin cried, fear still seeming into his voice, "I-I'm not afraid of you anymore! Sh-show yourself!"
But Ren didn't attack.
Ren wasn't even there. Daarin sighed, allowing himself to relax again. Finally, a friendly scent filled his nose. He remembered this smell, somehow, but for some reason couldn't exactly place it. Not right away. There was a soft thud behind him, before the small creature flickered around, eyes glistening.
"Danny!"
Not hesitating to wait for any sort of reply, he leaped onto his friend, throwing them both into the bare grass.
"You came back! I didn't think you would ever come back! You were gone for so long!" His empty eyes seemed to twinkle, painting joy all over his face. Danny groaned, forcing a smile and gently placing the creature onto the grass.
“Yeah, it’s me--”
“You aren’t hurt or anything, are you?” Daarin cut, suddenly concerned and searching the boy for any injuries. His eyes briefly fell over is hands before he could really process why Danny had possibly run off for so long. He didn’t know too much about him yet; Could Danny really take a hit?
“You didn’t leave because of the cliffs, did you? I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you! I-I didn’t know it was…”
Danny scoffed, rolling his eyes back towards the sky. “Stop blaming yourself. I was just being an idiot, you’ll get used to it,”
Daarin gaped, “N-no you’re not! I mean,” he paused, shuffling closer to the older boy in the grass. “I just wish I knew. Why didn’t you ask someone to help you?”
“I didn’t need any help. I’m fine, see?” The ‘werewolf’ raised his hands and turned up his palms. Only the gloves concealed the injury they were both aware was there. At least it wasn’t bad enough for the need of a cast or any real medical attention.
Daarin blinked, silently laying next to his friend. “Hmm, if you say so,” he shook his head, forcing himself awake.
Only once his eye caught a moving figure across the far end of the lake, did Daarin find himself wide awake. He squinted, wishing to prove to himself that he wasn’t just seeing things. He didn’t really believe in ghosts, considering he had never seen or had to worry about one before, but Daarin the would rather welcome the idea of a mischievous specter playing tricks on him than the red-haired manticore snooping around.
His short pelt stood on end as he grew hyperaware of his surroundings. He scooted closer to Danny until he was sure he couldn’t possibly be any closer.
“Uh, D-Danny…?” Daarin murmured, lowering his gaze, heart in his ears. “I think someone’s watching us.”
The teen shut his eyes, barely more than shrugging it off. “You’re probably hallucinating. Believe me, if someone were here, I’d know,”
Daarin brightened, “Oh! Yeah, it’s a werewolf thing, right? You can pick up scents from really far away,”
“...Sure.”
The small creature smiled contently, I trust Danny with my life. He’d never tell me anything I didn’t need to hear.
There was just something sentimental to him about the way he spoke and when, and that anything Danny ever said was worth saying. He never spoke just because. Daarin would work to follow in the precise pawsteps of his new friend.
He was slowly falling into unconsciousness, and his eyes grew heavy as if it was far past nightfall.
“Danny, wake up,” Daarin whispered, nudging the sleeping werewolf. He squeezed his eyes shut, and held his hand out to filter out the sun. “Danny, come on, I have to show you something!”
“What, again?” He barely muttered, opening an eye to the creature staring back at him. Somehow his eyes still glowed in the sunlight. Daarin furrowed his brows.
“Danny…”
“Lead the way, I’m coming.”
The Orange Forest was much more impressive this time of year.
Though unusually yellow-tinted throughout the year, despite outside weather changes, Autumn hit hard here. The trees were a violent gradient of the sunset; deep reds and soft yellows clashed. Even the bark appeared discolored, as if the brush sucked out all the color. Leaves were strangely fragile-- at least the ones that didn’t just grow in that season-- and snapped in two at the slightest touch. Trees were lush all year round, so it sort of made sense for what looked like deciduous leaves to break so easily. Something wasn’t too natural about all of this. But it was almost too easy to look past.
Daarin had led Danny through what seemed like an endless path through the wood, not once stopping or allowing him to process their surroundings. Admittedly, the Orange Forest hadn’t been entirely new to him. Danny had caught a glimpse or two while walking around aimlessly with Daarin in the past, but from the outside it didn’t look like much. Not much for anyone to really care about. Not like anyone was around to check it out.
“We’re nearly there!” Daarin announced, breaking the ambiance. “I can’t wait for you to see the hollow! It’s so pretty now!” He was a fair number of yards away, but anyone could have heard the smile in his voice.
Not wanting to add tension to the air (as he was almost notorious for doing),
Danny breathed, “Hollow?” He was genuinely curious.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot!” he laughed in reply, “I change my den every season-- for resources and stuff, I guess,”
He was silent for a moment and Danny felt compelled to carry on the conversation. Only Daarin had slowed to a pace just as a sort of tunnel came into view. “Autumn is still kinda warm down here, and all the leaves help in keeping the place warm ‘til Cold Season!”
He shuffled under a patch in some brush where Danny followed from behind.
Inside was almost more impressive than outside.
The red and white ‘greenery’ was noticeably much paler down here, possibly due to the lack of sunlight. It was small and cramped, and a bit dark. Daarin’s glow was definitely brighter now. Only specks of outside light dotted his face and the opposite walls of the hole.
“You too?” Daarin seemingly mentioned out of nowhere, scrambling out the pile of leaves bedding his hollow. He settled awkwardly on the ground, glancing up at Danny, eyes sparkling.
“What?” Danny snapped out fo some sort of trance, eyes fixated on their surroundings still.
“You glow, too?” The mutant creature simply motioned to his friend, who suddenly jumped at the implication. “I thought I was the only one,” His face was unreadable, but one could assume he was pleasantly surprised, to say the least.
Danny searched for a reply and bit his tongue as he realized he couldn’t really come up with a good excuse. At least not one that wouldn’t make even Daarin suspicious.
“Uh--”
“We might be even closer than I thought!” Daarin finally beamed, leaping at his older friend and embracing him with a hug in a single motion. He slipped off and tumbled into the leaves with a laugh, glowing brighter than before.
“I always thought I had to change myself for everyone else, Danny,” he closed his eyes, laying on his back. “Now I realize I don’t have to, with you around. You make me feel less like a misfit.”
Something about the way he’d said it set something off in Danny’s mind. Suddenly, he was awake again.
“Stop saying stuff like that,” he crossed his arms and looked down at his feet, “No one here is like anyone else. Actually, I haven’t even met anyone normal since I got here. It’s sort of driving me insane.”
Daarin looked curious, “Even you?” The question seemed off.
“No,” the oldest friend paused. “I mean, not like that. You’re complicating things.”
“Like how?” Daarin seemed to be smirking. “I thought you said I always over-simplified things too much for you,”
He almost sounded challenging; snarky. It was odd, considering the friendly, innocent nature of the small creature, who’s human form was barely any older than ten years old. Danny glanced over to Daarin, who stifled a giggle. Was he rubbing off on him? Maybe he was just getting used to him being around-- just comfortable. At least he’d rather think that than anything else.
Danny scoffed, shrugging it off, “Sure. Do you actually like, want to do something? Or are we just sitting in here all day?”
“We’ll go. I want to show you something first!” he seemed all upbeat again, like he was just playing a part just a second ago. He rolled onto his stomach and scrambled to his feet, nodding his head towards to roof of the hollow.
“This is only for nighttime, but since it’s already so late out, I don’t think it’d do much damage to--” He cut himself off as he batted a few twigs out of the way, and dozens of firefly jars dropped from the overhang. Strung on yarn, the fireflies inside the jars were awoken, and flickered to life. Despite the dull and damp interior of the hollow, the new source of light was almost blinding from the inside. Both boys squinted, Daarin smiling nonetheless.
“Isn’t it so cool?” he looked up to Danny for approval, “And I did it all by myself! I’ve never had anyone to show my work to. I promise I put all my time and effort into this! It’s so hard to find such fancy jars down here, but these were in a strange paperbox in a ditch near the High Sun den.
It was all weird down there. Like, a bunch of glass and old papers and rotten food. Like a townsperson rode by and lost all their stuff! And they never came back to pick it up. Strange stuff always happens around the Orange Forest, anyway,”
“Like what?” Danny almost regretted asking immediately. “Like… ghosts?”
Daarin’s eyes widened. “Oh, ghosts? N-no. I mean, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen one so I don’t really, exactly believe in them.” He could’ve sworn he noticed Danny’s peak in interest.
“Never? Seriously?” Danny raised a brow, clenching his fists on the leaf-flooring. “You’re not playing with me, are you? You’ve seriously, actually, never seen a ghost?”
“I kid you not,” Daarin raised his arms, “I’ve always heard those ghost stories, but whenever I would go out and look for one and prove a legend true, nothing would happen. I chanted at a river during the full moon, too. Nothing rose out of the current to pull me in and drown me; In fact, I even saw a family of deer sleeping by the lake. It’s just always been that peaceful.”
His posture drooped and Daarin glanced away. “I keep hearing rumors that if you chant at a mirror, a ghost’ll come out and curse you. Or kill you, I guess. But I don’t think someone who’s already dead could really do anything real to you, you know?”
“And you’ve… tried to contact the dead?” Danny responded slowly. Daarin pouted.
“Well, I would, if I owned a mirror.” he crossed his arms and glanced back at Danny. “I’ve tried other stuff, like building a chamber out of twigs over a fire, inscribing stuff in the dirt, I’ve tried planting ghost attractants, but I don’t really know how to garden,” he blushed, laying back on the leaf pile.
“Do you know anything about ghosts, Danny?” his eyes brightened, “Have you seen one?”
“Yeah,” Danny muttered, pulling his arms out of his jacket sleeves, “I guess you could say that.”
“Really? Well, what do they look like?”
“If I were lying, I’d say human.”
“So like… scary monsters or those green things from outer space?”
“Yeah,” Danny breathed, “In a way.”
Silence fell over the two, and Danny leaned back into the side of the brush. The crinkling and snapping of tender twigs cut the silence in half. Daarin rolled back onto his stomach, facing one of the walls and played with a loose hanging leaf. Unlike the others, this one was a tint of green and was soft to the touch. It was like it was living another time period. Daarin only blinked at the thought.
“Can you touch a ghost?” Daarin piped up, lying still as a log. He didn’t look up. “Do you just pass right through ‘em?”
Danny shifted, pulling the hood over his head, arms still pulled out of his sleeves. “Yeah, kinda. Sometimes not. I think… sometimes they forget they’re ethereal and you can touch them if they’re caught off guard.”
“Do they like to be touched? Is it scary for them?” Daarin asked, “Like, a real, living person in contact with something that isn’t really real, wouldn’t that be scary, you think?”
“Yeah,”
“And... “ Daarin trailed off in thought, “And can you really summon one? A ghost?”
Danny shrugged, “I don’t know. I’ve never… seen that… happen. I’ve heard some stuff, though. I think it’s just a bunch of dumb rumors.”
“Me too. It sounds far-fetched,” He turned around, in time for Danny to notice the twinkle in his eye. “I’m so glad I have someone to talk to. It’s been so lonely, all my life here. At least, ever since the Era of Time came to a close. I miss my family. Not like they were much to talk to, anyway,” he glanced far off until his eyes rested on Danny’s.
“You’re really like my brother,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “But like, more than all my family at once, and you’re just one person. I wanna do what you do. I want to brighten someone’s life just by being there for them,”
A translucent, white tear pricked an eye, and Daarin shook it away. A few drops dotted the fur across his face. Like a constellation.
“Time is really gone, Danny, right?” he didn’t wait for an answer. “I don’t want it back, then. I never have to be left alone again. If nobody can die, then I won’t have to lose you.”
“I’m back?” Dipper called, glancing curiously around at the strangely silent house. “Uh, anyone in here?”
He almost scolded himself for saying it out loud. It felt like he was calling out for danger to cut his throat. Glancing behind him once more, he let the door shut behind him. The foundation creaked. That was strange.
Glancing around frantically for something-- anything-- to protect himself with, his gaze fell upon a crowbar leaning against an old snowboard.
“Ivor?” Dipper called through gritted teeth, senses heightened, “Twilight?”
It was already scary enough, the idea that Ivor left his house, on top of the fact that Twilight was nowhere to be seen. She was always so strict about staying in the boundaries of the territory, and blabbed on and on about how dangerous it was to run off without guidance.
They hadn’t been out in the front yard. And the backyard was out of sight from the outside since so many vines and brush grew around it; so it was only accessible from the back door. It was ancient enough that moss began to grow around the hinges.
With newer observation, some of the moss had flaked off and littered the floor. Dipper scraped the wood with the crowbar, wrinkling his nose at the scent of dead greenery. White worms were infesting it, some dead or dried up from the lack of hydration inside the house. How long had these things been in here? It was unsanitary.
Especially for Ivor.
Stepping away from the range of the door, Dipper jammed the crowbar between the architrave and swung it open. Just as expected, flakes of moss and cobwebs sprinkled the room, much to his distress. Disregarding the mess, he held out his ‘weapon’ and crept into the backyard.
“Woah,” he barely breathed, eyes widening as he realized he remembered this place. This place, was where it all began. He didn’t remember much, but he was well aware that he could’ve died back here. The storm-- the flood that had nearly drowned him as he ran aimlessly through the woods in the direction of the homely glow he spotted one night. The same night Twilight and Danny had been lead to Ivor to fulfill some ‘prophecy’. At least, that’s what Twilight called it.
It was so feeble and unassuming, back then. Now, the trees grew in some sort of overhang, vines dangling from above and latching to the roof of the house. The brush was so thick he couldn’t see past it, now, and the grass had grown tall, wild, and untrimmed. Strange new plants sprouted with a mind of its own. There was no sign of the deer-man’s handiwork here. These had grown on their own, and spread like fungi.
“Ivor?” Dipper called, hands shaking. There was no way anyone could’ve been back here. It was so… earthly. Like it hadn’t been touched yet. He almost felt bad trampling over the garden. The greenery brushed his hide and clung to fur, as if it were pulling him in. These were strange plants. Dipper visibly shook, pressing himself to the brick behind Ivor's house.
“Dipper?” A quiet voice answered. Turning the corner to the side of the house, Dipper stuck his head around, and dropped the bar in relief.
Ivor sat in the center of what looked like a fairy circle, but drawn in red and decorated with white ferns. He turned, a warm, welcoming smile plastering his face. He was holding something in his hands. In one, a book. But he tucked something else under his right arm.
“Thank goodness you’re alright,” he sighed, threading fingers through his hair strangely. Dipper brushed it off.
“Why not? I can take care of myself.” He smiled, planting fists at his waist as Ivor laughed.
“Well, Twilight isn’t too good at keeping secrets. She told me you left,” he rested his elbows on the book. “But I trusted you would be fine. It’s afterdark I worry about most.”
“Like, night?” Dipper clarified, “What about the saying ‘Everything in the dark is just the same but with the lights out’?” He smiled to himself, picking up and crowbar and holding it behind his back. Ivor tilted his head as if craning to see what the boy had been hiding behind him.
“Anyway, I should probably go… uh, find Twilight, or something--”
“She’s just in my room. Reading,” Ivor turned back to face his work again. “I’ve already made dinner. Everything’s in the fridge.”
“Right, right,” Dipper nodded, backing out of the yard, eyes dodging for any sight of ivy. “I’ll, uh, be inside if you need me.”
He flicked around and dashed inside, flinching when he brushed against the mossy doorframe. The door shut behind him while the cervitaur looked around. There was no reason to look for Twilight. Everyone was well aware that disturbing her while she had her muzzle in a book was off-limits. From the corner of his vision, Dipper spotted the cold bowl of soup Ivor had mentioned, an inch or two from tipping off the kitchen counter. It even looked as if it were inching closer off the edge.
“Ugh,” Dipper gritted his teeth, “You have a weird fixation on soup, don’t you?” He raised a brow, unadmittedly amused. Before he could process it, Danny was sitting on the edge of the counter and staring back down at him.
“No, but I’m deadset on leaving this place,” he held his head in his hands and groaned, “How come you’re allowed to leave but I’m not? Where’ve you been going?”
Dipper shrugged, pulling a gold-lined book out from the inside of his jacket.
“Just a sanctuary.” He moved his focus from his older friend to the book and Danny narrowed his eyes.
“Sanctuary? I’m assuming it’s haunted?”
Dipper shrugged again, “...Possibly. I’ve been looking around a bit but I haven’t found anything out of the norm. Not yet, at least.” He brightened, flipping over the book for Danny to gaze over.
“There’s so much information about the location and I had to check it out. Most of it is just speculation, though. But it’s theorized to hold tethered spirits from like… decades ago!” He was beaming now, and Danny gained hold of the book in curiosity.
“Uh, doesn’t that kind of stuff chase away tourists or something? Of course you’re attracted to it,” He scanned over an image on the following page; littered inscriptions in white ink and further detailed drawings of gruesome creatures. To scale compared to the building, they seemed like giants. Giants with torn jaws, multiple eyes and damaged limbs twisted in a way that arms and legs shouldn't. There were slightly smaller ones, but compared to everything else in the sketch, that were much like cats to mice.
It was probably just a lack of perspective, or something. Whoever managed to sketch out these ghosts were obviously in a hurry to get as far away as possible. That was it. Just perspective.
And it wasn’t so common for ghosts to tower that high. Or maybe I’d just been dealing with the tip of the iceberg.
“I wouldn’t call this place very tourist-friendly,” he rolled his eyes playfully, lightly taking the book back into his possession. “Or at least considering how easy it is to get lost during the night. It’s seriously like a completely different forest out there.” He paused, fishing for a pen in his pocket.
“Maybe it could be linked to the Sanctuary. Or as I like to call it, the Ash Coven,” he smiled to himself, scribbling something on a slip in the book that much resembled some sort of bookmark.
Danny crossed his arms. “Think you’re reading a bit too much fiction, dude,”
“Maybe I am, but maybe this,” he motioned towards to book, “This isn’t so much fiction as I originally thought.” He finished with a heavy sigh, tucking the book back out of view and fixing his jacket. Danny had climbed off the counter and wandered to the ottoman in the center of the room. He kicked his feet up and glanced over the ceiling, now more interested in the blue tarp viciously duck-taped to the roof.
“Well, I’m hitting the hay early. See you in the morning, I guess.”
“What? It’s only like six in the afternoon. Isn’t it routine for you to run around in the dark this time of day? Then I come find you and keep you from getting yourself killed,” Danny joked, still eyeing the ceiling.
Dipper rolled his eyes, “Funny. I just have places to be tomorrow. If… you wanna come, don’t be all sleep-deprived, then. It’s a way’s away.”
“We’re going to that ghost sanctuary you keep obsessing over?” Danny glanced over to Dipper, who’d already thrown his coat off and tucked the book under the beds. He repressed a laugh, “What would Ivor say about that?”
“We’re not tampering with anything sinister, are we?” Dipper smirked as Danny shot up to glare at him. “I mean, you don’t have to come. I can just carry on with my--”
“You suck,” Danny rolled his eyes, “I’m coming. Besides, I don’t think Ivor’s who we need to worry about.” He nodded towards the mare who’d just emerged from Ivor’s room, fatigue painting her face. Dipper nodded silently, eyeing Twilight who drifted off into the backyard.
“First thing in the morning. We can make it back before anyone has time to worry. Right?”
Danny pulled his knees up to his chest and followed Dipper's gaze at the back door. “Whatever you say, Sherlock.”
ENTIQUEST
His eyes were pale now. Dead, void of any life. Still as a log, he sat, and urged to cry as the buckles around his wrists cut and bled. He twitched his fingers as if trying to remind himself that he was real.
Half-faced creatures bore into his skull with glossy eyes. They were alive, and he wished they weren’t. He couldn’t do anything. If he moved, he would die.
Buzzing and snapping overhead-- he wanted to look up into the light, but their faces were up there and he didn’t want to look them in the eyes.
“It’s back,” he barely caught the sound of one speaking. He remembered his surroundings, all of a sudden, and bit back a shriek of terror.
“We can’t really kill it.”
Their plastic hands tore into papers. Mess fluttered around him, in his hair. Something grabbed his throat from behind and he squeaked in helplessness. The colors were back and they swam in his vision until he was sure he was unconscious. He could still hear their voices. Now, they were just an uncanny sound that rang in his ears.
Touch vanished and now he was laying on his stomach again. Blinded by familiarity, the scent of blood recalled that he was back in the room again. The cart wheeled by. Routine. It was all he knew, now.
A cold sensation crept over this back. This time, he was too tired to scream.
There was nothing left to go back to.
The remembrance of that made everything else surreal in comparison.
He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to die.
He wasn’t even real. The chains were gone and any sense of reality with it. His world was vertical, and he couldn’t do anything but turn his head. But it never made anything stand straight.