Granny wasn't the biggest fan of small talk and Belle soon realized the best way to enjoy her breakfast in the morning was to sit in silence, scroll through the news feed on her phone and let the old woman alone.

Belle would not complain, really. Granny could not be the warm, talkative and friendly host she would expect to run a place as delightful as that, but at least the food she prepared made up for all and any grumpiness in the morning, if not for the whole day.

The woman made the most delicious waffles Belle had ever tasted — not that Belle ever tasted many — and that was enough to convince her that introspective silence wasn't actually that uncomfortable.

She sipped on her drink as she turned the pages of her notebook, examining what she had written the day before.

Although rushed and crooked, her writings had been remarkably productive for a first day.

She had met so many wonderful creatures her wildest imagination could not have fathomed, fantastic beings her younger self would have been understandably skeptical about. Marvel and magic beyond what she ever dreamed she would know.

And there they were, as concrete as the notes on the rosy papers. They were real. Belle had talked to them. She had walked into their habitats, into their homes. If she didn't have a record from the day before, any evidence at all, she might have doubted her sanity.

Luckily, she was as lucid as ever. She smiled as she revisited the most notable passages and they immediately transported her to recent memories.

Dwarves: social creatures, distinct and varied personalities. That was an understatement. After all, they were nicknamed after their most salient traits.

Fairies: functional community, helpful and nurturing. She nodded to herself, revisiting the feeling of awe the struck her when she visited the Fairy Forest. If only a portion of the people in the world were just as sweet and kind as the fairies…

Witches: competitive assholes— Oh. Oh, Belle had forgotten she had ever written that. Okay, maybe some adjustments were necessary; not all notes were eloquently thought out. Belle crossed over the word many times, as if she could see Mary Margaret standing behind her, shaking her head disapprovingly. She apologized under her breath and wrote "ambitious" above it. That should cover it.

She continued, making a mental reminder to be more professional, even in her drafts. She straighten up in her chair.

Talking Cricket: highly intelligent with good interpersonal skills. She grinned; She missed Jiminy already.

Mermaid: curious and eager to please. Again, "curious" what to put it lightly.

Werewolf:

Belle stopped. There was nothing written after that, and she promptly recalled why. A mixture of rudeness and bluntness colored the memories in her mind, and she groaned as she remembered the events that followed. From her passive responses to the girl's aggressive tone, up until she had a door slammed shut on her attempts — that had been a disaster.

She sighed to herself. She wondered if she would be able to repair her first impressions. Both of herself and the girl's. She wanted to try again, test another approach, breach the layer of confrontation and hostility and maybe make a meaningful connection.

She doubted her chances.

But she was a journalist. She had slept in tents in the dangerous woods of unclaimed territories. She had visited mansions of unstable rich sociopaths. She had bargained with powerful, merciless people and conquered victory. She was experienced, tough, qualified, professional. She wouldn't allow that to affect her. Not a single creature. Not a rude girl.

She would not cower. She would not go home again with another blank page. For the first time, in her many field studies, she faced no danger from the subjects. She was safe, wherever she walked — there was no reason to fear, to back down, to give up.

She closed her notebook with a dull thump. A new energy filled her bones and brought life to her eyes. She would not give up. Belle French did not give up.

She collected her things in her bag and headed out for another day, another adventure.


She greeted the guards at the gates and showed them her ID, still proudly pinned to her shirt. They received her with welcoming smiles, wished her a good day at work and opened the gates for her entry.

She drove through the streets — her amazements of the surroundings still lingering with every glance — until she found a parking stop closer to her destinations.

It was not a difficult task, honestly, to find an available, desirable spot. The park was mostly empty.

They had been very careful to justify the deserted areas and the empty blocks in their acceptance e-mail clarifying that, during this time of year, the Park was closed for maintenance, improvements, cleaning and examining. They had explained quite clearly they allowed entrance for workings guests only, under a strict screening, for the objective of research and nothing more.

Belle could appreciate their caution. She didn't mind being alone in the Park, really. It gave her comfortable space to interact with the creatures without much interference, and she was glad to take her time and get accustomed to the place and its peculiarities.

Eventually, though, she would walk by a psychiatrist, a veterinarian or a physician wearing an ID similar to hers, and she would offer them a knowing smile.

She knew The Private Season, as they called it, was reserved mainly to caring for their residents, in any ways they might judge required, and the knowledge of that secured Belle with trust.

They were an organized, respectful group that showed concern for their creatures' needs. Belle admired their commitment.

After nodding to a familiar face in passing, she reached Gold's Office.

Knocking twice on the big yellow door, she announced her intrusion before she stepped in. The little bell rang again, and she returned to the pocket universe that was man's office.

While she waited for him to come meet her, she searched around for any ornament she might had missed the first time. There were so many, she doubted she remembered them all.

Now that she a better grasp of the types of creatures in the Park, she could easily link a symbol to its origin, in an improvised game of associations.

She spotted Jiminy's tiny clothes again; she recognized a few of the witches' pointy hats and potion bottles; the painting, she realized, was a picture of Ariel; even a dwarf's precious pickaxe laid safely stored in a glass box.

Then, once more, the unsettling feeling of eeriness sat deep in her guts, as her eyes landed on the huge wolf's skin spread on the wall. That certainly wasn't a normal wolf. No natural wolf would be that massive, with skin large enough to be confused with a bear. No, that was a werewolf. Dead, skinned and used as decoration.

Chills ran up her arms and down her spine. Zack had said the girl was the only one of her kind, that Gold stablished the Park and she was already the last one.

So, whose skin was that? A silver gray fur, glowing white under fluorescent light. An older specimen? The first of the kind? The creature that came before the girl? The one that bit her? Turned her? Birthed her?

She nested the question in the back of her kind, as her ears picked up the sounds of Gold's heeled boots as he approached. She averted her attention from the wall and greeted him with a formal smile.

"Good morning, Mister Gold", she offered.

He nodded back at her, taking a seat in his tall leather chair. "Good morning, Miss French" He smiled, resting her cane by the table, "How did your first sessions go? Are you pleased with our creatures?"

He sounded genuinely curious, and Belle couldn't mask her delight at the question. "Most definitely! They are all wonderful being with brilliant characters. I'm impressed," she admitted, feeling herself relax around him. "I had feared they would be mindless and aggressive," She pointed.

Gold shook his head, "Oh, no. Not all of them are," he leaned his elbows on his desk, seeming invested in the conversation, "We take good care of them" he assured her, and Belle quickly agreed.

But then, a thought crossed her mind. The one that lodged itself in her brain that morning, while she stared at the blank page. "Mister Gold," she inquired.

"Yes?"

"What can you tell me about… The Werewolf?" She shifted her weight from foot to foot, hands firm on her bag.

Gold went silent for a second, lips in a thin line and eyes wondering over his desk. He took a deep breath before continuing, "You already met her, uh?" He shot a humored look towards Belle and she nodded, "Well, she is an interesting one. Strong opinions," he inclined his head to the side, as the arranged his paper. "A bit rude sometimes," he added in an afterthought.

Belle chuckled, "Very rude"

Gold nodded, his humor still framing his features. "Yes, she… can be a lot. It should be said, her kind has the tendency for strong emotions. Their animal side makes sure that they are as flammable as possible," he raised his eyebrows and Belle understood the shades of recognition on his face. He spoke from experience.

Belle, however, was a new to all of them, and she couldn't help the questions that puzzled her.

"She didn't seem… violent, though," she said, as images from the day before crossed her mind.

Indeed, the girl had been hostile in her own manner, but despite her tasteless joke, there wasn't really any violence in her. Not any that Belle could see.

She tried to put her observations into words. "In fact, she just seemed frustrated" Belle settled on the word. Yes, frustrated. Maybe that was the best description. Maybe that should be on that blank page.

"Well," Gold breathed out, mindful of Belle's considerations, "She is the last of her kind. I can only imagine how stressful that can be. But, what can I say?" He pulled the corners of his mouth tight, shrugging as he dropped his eyes back to his many papers, "I've done what was possible to ensure she had the means to pass on her curse. I brought her suitable and selected candidates, increased the pheromones in her habitat, even advised aggression to the volunteers to elicit some response," he sighed. "Nothing worked"

Belle remained quiet for a moment, while the words gained form in her mind. She could picture the lengths they would go to provide the girl with all the options to preserve her kind.

She knew they had that power. The many doctors and the rigorous screening of their guests was evidence of their heavy responsibility. Still, the extents of that power caught her by surprise.

"Pheromones?" She echoed, "You can do such a thing to temper with their environment?" That was an obvious question and she knew it, but part of her expected the creatures to live more… freely inside their cages, as paradoxical as that thought might had been.

"We have many tools at our disposal to care for our creatures, Miss French" Gold clarified, finally looking up to meet Belle's questioning gaze. "Unfortunately, it was all in vain. Not even her blood is enough to preserve the curse" He sighed again, a more resigned breath this time, "She is decided on dying as the last werewolf. It's really a shame"

Belle felt her shoulders tense up at the thought of the girl being so unwilling and opposed that they would resort to drawing her blood — to what all suggested, against her will.

She bit her lips, brow furrowed. "And why is that? From what I gathered from meeting all the others, they seemed eager to have more like them in the world. Those who lived in community seemed to be the happiest and most developed. And those who lived alone…" She thought of Jiminy and the friendly giant, "They reacted excitedly to the possibility of growing their kind. But the werewolf, a pack creature, of all…"

"She's had some problems, in relation with her nature," Gold cut her off, but his tone was apologetic, rather than authority. Belle paid close attention to his words. "That's all I can say, without crossing my limits and affecting your judgment," he laced his fingers together, shoulders rising as he leaned in his chair, "If you are curious, you can ask her"

Belle felt nervous giggles bubble from her throat. They escaped before she could stop them, "Oh, I don't think she would respond well…" She reflected, looking at the empty space to her side.

"You don't need to fear her," Gold assured, his voice smooth and firm, "She can't harm you from the cage. The silver bars burn at the slightest touch"

Belle frowned and fought the image that wanted to paint her thoughts, of silver touching the fair skin, "That's not what I'm worried about"

Gold went quiet, and an amused smiled curved his lips. He breathed out, as he leaned back on the cushions of the chair. "You're worried she won't like you," he deduced.

Belle dropped her head, trying to hide her blush from the light. Gold chuckled, and the sound eased the edges of Belle's embarrassment.

"Relax," he waved his hand, "She won't. She doesn't really like anyone" Another unaffected shrug slumped his shoulders. "So, there's nothing to lose"

Belle breathed in, forcing her blushing back into the shadows.

Maybe he was right.


The day progressed faster than she anticipated.

She visited all the Habitats she had missed the day before, with remaining time to catch up on her latest annotations.

Now that the Caretakers had already introduced her to the basics of each area, she felt more confident to wander and question, both the residents and their respective watchers. She revised her notes and, while many first impressions were gradually proven incorrect, many still clung to their distant façade when interacting with Belle.

She could understand that, and she wouldn't ask of those unwilling to show the same availability the more friendly residents so eagerly displayed. She would give them time to warm up to her and what she represented, to decide to trust her and not feel obligated to do so.

Of course, that new careful approach had been a direct result of the most unpleasant interaction in her memory and her determined wishes to not repeat it.

As soon as a resident reacted annoyed or insulted, she quickly apologized and excused herself, moving on to the next Habitat, never pushing too far.

It was not the firmest tactic to deal with them, but Belle liked to believe she had a method to her madness — or, rather, to her lack of it. She believed a friendly atmosphere was far more productive than a unsympathetic one, and she was confident in her decisions.

But, then, came the time to go back to The Werewolf Den.


She took deep, calming breaths as she walked under the ark and into the surroundings of the Habitat, notebook and pen safely hidden in her bag, and a serious purpose in her eyes.

Whatever happened, she tried to remind herself of the blank page she stared, so defeated, at that morning. She had sworn not to repeat the same mistake, and she was renewed from her previous interviews. She could do it.

As she approached the bars, she noticed the cabin lights were off. She knew the sun had yet to set, tinting the sky with a beautiful orange hue, and she wondered if the girl — Ruby, she commanded herself to use her name — was out, enjoying the sunset.

Her eyes searched the many different areas inside the Habitat, until she found the girl sitting under a great and tall tree, comfortably relaxed in its shade.

She circled the edges of the cage, until she could get a better look of her. She seemed peaceful and calm, her fair face focused on the book she held in hands.

Belle's hope grew brighter, at the sight. A book! They were her special territory. She had a chance at a better second impression this time.

She stepped closer again, until she could read the title on the cover. It was worn and old — not much care put into handling the book, but Belle forced herself to forgive that crime —, but she could read the slightly faded name: Jules Verne.

Oh, the Gods were smiling upon her! That was it. What was her chance at redemption.

She composed herself from the silly enthusiasm, and called for the girl. She knew she didn't have to shout to be heard, but Ruby seemed particularly involved in her reading, enough to not have noticed her presence. Either that, or she was ignoring her, but Belle wanted to remain optimistic.

"My favorite is the Mysterious Island," she said, the warm smile audible in her voice, "I brought it here with me. I can let you borrow it", Belle waited, trying to tame her nerves.

After a brief silence, Ruby looked up from her the pages, and glanced directly at Belle. So, she did know she was there. The exposed shoulders rose and fell, as a sigh blew from her lips.

"Oh, great. You again" Ruby laid the book on the grass and pushed herself off the ground. "And trying to bond," she continued, walking towards Belle with slow steps, "That's original"

Belle gritted her teeth and rolled her eyes. She would not go back with another blank page. Still, she was only human.

She let her mood show in a sarcastic smile, "You are a particularly irritating one, you know that?" She raised her brows, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I've met Grumpy"

Ruby kept her face impassive in its monotony as she spoke, "I'm devastated"

Belle huffed, "Would it kill you to be nice?"

Ruby snorted, looking away beyond Belle. "If it did, I might actually try it", she chuckled a dry laugh, and Belle went silent.

She blinked a few times, trying to process the words. "What do you mean?" She frowned.

Ruby seemed to notice the change in her tone, and the green eyes quickly traveled back to her, the boredom cleared from her face and replaced with thin irritation. "Don't even think about it. You're not allowed to know and I'm not obligated to tell you" Her voice was a steel wall.

Belle watched as the fair limbs became tighter in tension, and she shook her head, letting her own irritation dissipate. Fire with fire was a horrible strategy.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to" She promised, but Ruby did not waver to dismiss her attempt at kindness.

"Good," she nodded, stiff, "I don't want to," she finished, turning her body away from Belle. She was walking back to her cabin, and Belle felt another failure creeping up on her.

She reached for the air in front of her as she called to the girl. "Wait, wait!" She pleaded, and the agitation came to a still beat when she noticed Ruby had stopped walking.

The girl didn't look at all thrilled to do so, but she turned back to Belle. "What?"

Belle licked her lips, finding her words, "Why don't you like owls?" She felt her voice lose its force.

Ruby frowned, the green eyes watching Belle with annoyed confusion. "What?"

"Yesterday," Belle forced herself to recollect her grace and regain what was left of any dignity. "You said you don't like owls. Why is that?"

Ruby waited for what felt like an eternity to Belle, just watching her beat and breathe in silence. Finally, she replied, "Because they're noisy and creepy"

Belle laughed an awkward laugh, swallowing the anxious reaction to the provocation.

She was being too much of an easy target. She demanded herself to do better. Come on, Belle. You have training for this. "And… what is your favorite bad movie?"

Ruby, on the other hand, showed little effort to hide her truest response. She groaned, "Gods, you're persistent!"

Belle replied with the same exasperation. "I have to try, somehow!"

"Can't you just… I don't know, keep going?" Ruby motioned in frustration to the path that led out of the Den. "I'm not going to cooperate, lady. I don't want to be a sob or a horror story on some pretensions newspaper," she sighed, frustration fading into fatigue. "Soon, werewolves won't even matter, okay? My time will run out and people won't even care if I really existed or not"

Ruby let her hands fall to her sides and, for a moment, Belle saw past her shell of aggression. Something deeper and darker lived there. She weighted her next words carefully.

"Why do you hate it so much?" She asked, her question soft and tempted, "Being… a werewolf?

Ruby stared at her for a moment. Maybe the girl was not expecting Belle to be so resilient this time. She seemed to recognize the kind of tenacity in her.

"Would you like it?" Ruby replied, "Living here?"

Belle looked around the Habitat, its many comforts and possibilities. Then, she looked just beyond it, to the silver bars around it. She frowned, and her answer was sincere, "I don't know," she admitted, looking back at Ruby, "I couldn't know. I'm ordinary. What I'm asking is… why you don't like it? Being what you are. Is it all about being here?" She tried again, and this time Ruby was quicker to reply.

"What, as if being here isn't reason enough to hate it?" She took firm steps back towards Belle, the hard tautness still visible in her neck and shoulders. Belle planted her feet, refusing to retreat. "If I were just ordinary, like you, I would have a life beyond these bars. I would—I would read more than the same three books, over and over again —," She shot her hand to where she sat moments ago, and then composed herself, standing up straight "I would choose what and how to eat, instead of having all my meals made and chosen for me. You know, little details like that: freedom"

Belle nodded quietly in respect. She could not argue with her. As much as she could, from her own experiences of the world, she understood Ruby. She couldn't disregard her feelings.

She adopted a softer voice, "Is that why you don't pass it forward? Why you refuse to bite anyone?"

Ruby shook her head, her face shadowed in some form of repulsion. "Why would I pass this forward? This same fate… That's selfish"

Belle shrugged, "You can't know that for sure. Maybe… only you feel like that. Trapped"

Something broke through Ruby's stern expression and her green eyes glowed with a different light, sharper — more alive. She walked, stirred by a fierce energy, until she was at mere inches from the silver bars, directly in front of Belle. Her height and her strength much more intimidating up close.

Again, Belle urged her trembling bones to stand still.

"Are you serious?" Ruby asked. Her voice so deep and slow, Belle mistook it for a growl. "Are you saying I am choosing to feel trapped? To dare to see this —," She gestured around, never relieving her heavy stare from Belle's pale face, "— as anything but a privilege, but as a prison? Can't you see what this is? Or are you just as entranced as them, that you overlook the bars? I'm being treated as a zoo animal! We all are!"

She raised her voice and Belle flinched, her shoulders jumping up. Ruby didn't seem to care.

"If they appear happy and content to you, it's because they accepted it as their lives, but—but I refuse to be thankful for this hellhole! Yes, I have plenty of space to run and play and—and roll in the mud and chase my tail, right?" She mocked, her canines exposed in a bitter chuckle. "The bars still don't go away. I still don't know what lives or exists beyond what I can see, so, yeah, that's my choice, right? To dare to want more than this. No" She pulled her lips up in a snarl, "I refuse to be treated like an animal"

Ruby's voice echoed in her skull, long seconds after she stopped herself. Belle could only hear her own thoughts now, screaming senselessly and agitated in her mind.

She gulped. She wanted to say something. Anything.

She knew she couldn't do much for her; for all that the girl felt and resented, but… she wanted to.

Belle breathed, feeling her voice shake as it passed her lips. "Don't you believe you are special and… for that you are, uh, granted special treatment?" As soon as she heard her words back, she cursed herself for giving them voice. Seriously, Belle?

Ruby must have thought the same, such was the aversion drawn in her face. "Do you think this is any kind of special? A dog in a farm has more freedom than me! Than all of us! Don't let the fancy arks and the polite guards fool you"

"I'm not—" Belle caught herself, keeping her voice down. It wasn't her place to be upset. "I'm not being fooled; I understand the many dimensions of this place and what it symbolizes, but… You are indeed special, a fantastic existence in an dull and uninteresting world. No other place offers as much—"

"So," Ruby cut her off, "For you, that's reason enough to keep us here, in this glorified cages, with these glorified prison guards? Because we're special and your poor word is so boring?" There was mockery in her words, but her tone and all that surrounded her were nothing but angry. "That's why we deserve to live like this?"

Belle breathed out, but her lungs felt full. Her anxiety was making her skin fell cold. "The world outside, it's not without imprisonment, either. And they're far worse than any habitat will ever be —"

"I am not a prisoner!" Ruby gritted her teeth, a nervous hand running through the long dark hair. "I was born this… way, this thing. I did nothing to—," She stopped herself, much like Belle had before. She took a deep breath, letting her hand fall back to her side. "You see me as a criminal," Ruby stated.

Belle gasped, "No, I—"

"You think I deserve to be here, simply because of what I am," She didn't seem to care for what Belle had to say. "You actually compared this to a prison, and your talk of being special is coded for, we are dangerous. That's all I need to know from you, okay?" She chuckled without a sound, "And you want to write a story that will improve my life? Well, I've lost all hope, then"

"I didn't mean it like that!" Belle demanded to be heard, turning her hands to fists in front of her, "I don't want to offend you, I meant —,"

"You did," Ruby curved up her lips, her voice again turning low and rumbling, "You did and you're just like the others" The green eyes were set on Belle, like they burned her skin, "First, trying and kind; then, judgmental and arrogant. It's not even fun anymore, indulging you guests. You're all the same"

"I'm not!" Belle swore. The coldness of her fears turning hotter and hotter, into boiling frustration. "I mean well. I am trying to help you. I want to treat you respectfully, but you're resistance and rudeness— it's infuriating!" She couldn't stop her voice from raising, unwavering and unbending.

Ruby watched her with care, as the tension in her frown relaxed and fell into a curious gaze, even if masked in annoyance.

"I can't say anything right," Belle continued, "I'm always either predictable or terrible. I can't please you!"

Ruby scoffed, "Why do you want to? I'm just a study, a research object"

"That's how you're reacting!" Belle stressed, "You're behaving like I'm poking with a scalpel, when I'm only just trying to know you"

"That's how you're disguising it, but I know this is just that" Ruby's energy was back to apathy, shoulders down and hands flaccid by her sides. The exhaustion was taking the best of her. She sighed, "Your interest in me, as a person, is as shallow as that"

Belle frowned, trying to keep her own erratic energy under control. She shook her head, "How can you know that?"

Ruby looked her down before averting her eyes to the side, in the short distance. "That's all people like you ever do. Befriend me, offer me things, act nice and respectful and, as soon as you get what you want, you disappear. Next thing I know, I'm another species to be considered in some psychology magazine" She brought her attention back to Belle, and this time her eyes carried with unequivocal disgust. "There's no use in pretending this time is going to be any different"

Belle stood her ground as Ruby looked down on her.

She knew the girl was painting her in the most horrible light, with her most resentful experiences, and something deep inside Belle decided to accept that.

Ruby was unreachable, in all her distance, her denial and her dislike. There was very little Belle could do to change her mind. At least today, she would have to accept her defeat and walk back with another blank page.

Lose a battle, win the war, Belle told herself.

"You know what?" Belle rolled her shoulder back and corrected her posture, shaking off her skin all that wanted to hold her down. "You're right. I won't even write about you," She conceded, and, for a moment, the slight honest reaction on Ruby's face was enough of a victory.

The girl recoiled in confusion, eyebrows raised in silent question.

Belle continued, "There's no need to. There is nothing I can write that someone hasn't written before. And, like you said, you are the last of your kind" She watched Ruby with the same intensity she had held her own repulsed gaze. "You will be dissected properly later, so why bother? An unoriginal piece about an unwilling participant is not worth all the stress"

Belle mimicked Ruby's trick, and let the silence speak for itself.

She watched, secretly amused behind her own stern expression, as Ruby's hostility flickered and faded into weirded confusion. The green eyes didn't convey the same strength as before, and, now, roamed Belle's face in search of a tell, of a weakness.

She pressed her lips together, locking her jaw. "That's nice," she nodded, unconvincingly. "Go on, now. I'm sure Ariel will be worth it"

Ruby turned her body back to her cabin, getting ready to leave; have the final say, slam the door again — anything to leave a bigger impact than that dazed expression. Belle wouldn't allow it.

"I don't want to," She told the girl, "You may be a hard one to like but, now, I kind of want to push it. I want to see how far this goes. If you can be this stubborn all the time, even when I'm doing nothing but being here. I want to see if you can be this irrationally opposed to be, for no reason at all"

Ruby rolled her eyes, looking over her shoulder. "So, I am an experiment, after all"

"No," Belle marched away, "You're just an asshole"

And, for once, the dramatic exit was hers.

Stomping away on the long path, she didn't dare slow down her stubborn momentum, and continued until she could not be seen. She just wished Ruby felt the same mixture of shame and anger she had left Belle to dwell in the day before.

Another blank page, she reminded herself.

A satisfied smiled slowly won over her, illuminating her face. In the end, it's the little victories that count.