Rough

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Meanwhile in Santa's Workshop...

"THEY'RE GONE?!" North slammed his palm on his study table, toppling his toys down to the floor. The loud bang echoes through the workshop, shaking objects on shelves.

  Sandy and Cupid grimaced, sharing a nervous look. Never had they ever see North as strict like this. His face was as red as a ripe cherry, and if you could imagine, his face would look appropriate enough when hot steam burst from his ears.

The door of the study room opened before Bunnymund, Tooth and Breeze walk in. Their faces were plastered with confusion, demanding for an explanation. North muttered a set of words in frustration as he rearranged the toys that fell from his table.

Bunny gave everyone in the room a sharp glance before realizing that 3 boys were not included in the equation. Feeling both smug and guilty, Cupid approached Breeze naturally, wrapping her arms around Breeze's shoulder in fake comforting.

"Who's gone?" Breeze asked, giving Cupid a pair of puppy eyes.
"The boys. Jack, Aqua and... Ben." North threw his hands in the air, glaring at the empty couch as if the three of them were there.
"What? To where?!" She cupped her hands on her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks. Sadness flashed on her now-dark gold eyes. She has mad skills, Cupid thought. A magnificent actress.

"Somewhere we don't know." Tooth said sharply, her tooth fairies buzzing with anger behind her wings. Bunny shot a suspicious glance at both Breeze and Cupid, as the thought -- that the two of them might be behind the disappearance of the boys -- raced across his mind.

But he cleared the thought off as he saw the heartbroken-looking Breeze, who was leaning on Cupid for support as she cried her tears out.

"I want them home," Breeze sobbed, crying harder.

Yep. Not their plan, Bunnymund thought.

Ben's POV

"One thousand and twenty seven Mississippi, one thousand and twenty eight Mississippi, one thousand and twenty nine Mississippi..." I muttered as I made my way to a complete nowhere, surrounded with nothing but pure dirt.

It had been three hours, I think, hearing nothing but the crunching sound as my boots hit the rough dirt. The farther my steps are, the higher the dirt walls on the side of the trail. Now I'm in a dirt lane, with dirt walls on the sides and, luckily, my dirt powers.

Oh why haven't I brought my iPod? If I had, I could listen to electro pop songs. Or perhaps some opera and orchestra? I just want my iPod here with me. In my hands. With a pair of headphones plugged to my ear. And music blasting from the headphone speakers. And, a very musical Ben Stone dancing and singing along this lane.

But no.

"There will not be a dancing and singing Ben Stone during the journey, so you better not bring your music utensils." Cupid said to me. Imagine how shell-shocked I was that time. Utensils, she said. Utensils!

I keep slipping my hands into my leather sling bag, hoping that I had forgotten the fact that I had sneaked my iPod and headphones with me. But I didn't forget -- I really did not have my iPod and headphones here with me. Sad, sad life.

I kept walking forwards lazily, for who knows how long. Keeping my sight to the dull ground repeatedly. I started to grow irritated -- bored, actually. The dirt lane turned into a narrow tunnel that got a tad bit darker.

But crap. I don't have torchlights and shit.

I searched into my bag and luckily, I fished out a box of classic matches. I didn't remember putting these in my inventory, so it has Breeze all over. Thanks, I thought blindly. I picked a matchstick and lighted it up with a 'schhp'. The tunnel was dimly lit, but it was enough for me to see my way.

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