ALONE

Friends and Enemies

The cold began to set into the very heart of the wayward boy who ran through the thick leaves and snow. The only warmth he felt in his body was the from the fresh burning tears that came from his dry eyes, and his throat that stang with every deep forceful breath he took. His toes felt frozen, and his fingers that gripped the lantern tightly were numb and white at the knuckles. And yet he ran.

The frozen air felt like prickling needles against his face. Wirt closed his cold dry eyes against the wind's brutal chill, and in that instant he was snatched by the cloak. The ragid trees grasped him by their looming branches and the young pilgrim was forced into a spin.

All in mere seconds Wirt hit the floor, tearing off this cloak in a whirl and dropping the axe he carried. Tossing back and forth in a roll on the floor he gripped his lantern tightly against his chest, holding it with more strength than he had to even preserve his own life. He rolled violently in a ball down the steep hill and just as he reached the end, his head smashed against a rock.

As Wirt's aching body shook, he peered down into his arms at the lattern. A soft smile slowly and weakly stretched it's way across his scratched and dirtied face. The lantern was okay. Wirt had saved it.

Wirt rolled wearily onto his back and stared at the gray monochrome sky as it began snowing again. The boy placed his hand on the lantern, and just in that moment he felt the warmth of the light on his fingers. The warmth was like a soft gleam of something familar. Someone, during simetime that he still held dear in his heart.

All the meager energy that Wirt had held was gone. And his eyes drifted closed as he heard the soft ghost of a voice whisper to him.

"Wirt... Wirt....."

"Greg," Wirt whispered, his finger tips slipping from the lantern and laying on the snow.

*****

Wirt opened his tired eyes slowly, seeing a wooden sky through his blury vision. A soft glow grew over it, and foot steps drew near to him. A jolt of fear came over him as Wirt thought of the horrible monster that kept looming over him in the shadows. The creatures dark grasping hands that reached greedily towards him.

"Where's the lantern!?" Wirt's voice cracked out of desperation and anger. He sat up quickly, his head swaying around the room violently. He turned towards the sound to see a young red haired girl who was wearing a light blue winter coat, and a blurry look of concern.

"Wirt," She tried to calm him. "It's okay. Calm down." The girl walked closer to the boy. Wirt's version had began to improve and his eyes widened with surprise at the sight of the freckled girl.

"Beatrice?" Wirt looked confused and glanced around the living room, realizing it was the same house that the Woodsman had been living in around the first time they had met. His attention focused quickly back to the pressing matter. "What did you do with Greg?!" He began to climb off the couch. Wirt's eyes looked as cold as the snow that had numbed him, and yet as fearful as he had been facing the Beast.

Beatrice took Wirt by the arms and sat him back down. "Stop trying to get up, dummy!" Beatrice spoke angrily. "The lantern is okay. Look," she picked it up from beside the couch, "it's right here."

Wirt snatched it from Beatrice's hands quickly and held it close to himself, causing her to draw back slightly dismayed. "Beatrice, how did you find me?" Wirt questioned the girl.

Beatrice frowned at Wirt with a look of growing concern. "I found you right at the edge of the woods. I was going to collect some fire wood, it looked like you fell or something."