"Well, kids, we'd better get going soon," Grunkle Stan puts his hands on the hips of his spiffy, black suit and gazes up at the red sky. "The sun is starting to set. Kids?" He looks around when he receives no answer but only finds the dense forest surrounding him. As the evening grows darker, the night animals begin to creep out onto the prowl. Stan thinks he spots the striped tail of a raccoon cross his path briefly. Overhead, large talons with the sharpest and shiniest claws take off flapping from a branch and into the night air. The branch breaks off and falls into the grass and bushes somewhere nearby and the splintery debris rains down on the old man's head. Suddenly, a disturbing snuffling sound and hot breath on the back of his neck is felt close by...come to think of it, it is too close by for comfort. Stan spins around really quickly in a whirl, ready to bust out his trusty brass knuckles if need be. But the beast evades him. He hears its thick snort somewhere between the trees, heavy with phlegm. This is not good. The creature sits right on top of him. There's nothing he can do to get rid of it while it is hot on his trail to get rid of him. And if that's the case, then the twins are going to have to wait. The only thing that the old man can think to do now is run. So that's exactly what he does as he takes off down the narrow pathway now completely invisible as the high pine needles cover any trace of filtering moonlight. Leaves and small twigs from the bushes at his legs growing increasingly higher up to his arms scratch at his face. The branches from the trees whip him in the face as he lifts his legs higher and goes faster and faster and faster. But nothing moves him further away from the hot breath beating down his neck until he feels as if he is in a sauna. When suddenly it stops.
In that moment, a rush of bitter and cold air swarms the back of his neck and Stan tenses up completely. Where the hell did that thing go? There is now nothing but darkness with a few stars peeking out between the treetops. One minute, the wretched beast had him. Then, in a flash, it is nowhere to be found. But suddenly it appears right in front of him! The man lets out a terrified scream in the horrific, pink, unblinking eyes of Waddles. He takes a few frantic steps back before he himself can trip over a root. He takes a moment to catch his breath before speaking again, "Soos, what in the world are you still doing out here? I thought I sent you out to sniff out all of the truffles I hid hours ago."
"Yes, and I did do all of those things," Soos replies, putting Waddles down on the ground from where he held him in Stan's face. "I have all of the truffles right here. See?" He reaches into his shorts pocket and holds out all five of the sticky, rock-like objects flat on his palm. Stan lifts up his glasses to get a better look at what is in the young man's hand, though that only skews the image even moreso. Nonetheless, the smell of the musty things is undoubtedly what he buried at least a year ago. He slips his glasses back on. Leaning back upright again, he observes Waddles' now ripped and dirty, purple leash and harness. How long have they been out? It's already pitch black. His thoughts are interrupted when the young man speaks again. "Mr. Pines, uh, not to pry or anything, but where are the kids? Did you send them back home? Did they make it back okay?"
"I don't know where they went, actually," Stan rubs the back of his head. He supposes he should probably be worried at this point. But the twins were lagging all morning and just got worse as time went on. It got to the point that it seemed as if they didn't want to spend time with their gruncle like they always used to. But maybe, just maybe it's something else, something that's wrong. He suddenly hears a faint cough far off in the distance and Waddles begins to sniff the ground. Soos looks around Stan while the old man himself whips around to see Dipper's blue hat with the pine tree sticking out of the bushes.
"Kid, what are you doing? Come out of there! And bring your sister too," Stan raises his voice so that his great-nephew can hear. His head pops out, rustling the leaves as he lifts it and some even stick in his unkempt hair. Stan hadn't noticed it before but now that Soos shines a his flashlight directly as his face, he sees just how sick the boy looks. His face is incredibly pale with his regular bags enhanced to give off the appearance of deep, purple bruises. Stan raises an eyebrow. "Uh, kid, what happened after you disappeared? Where have you been? I expected for you two to keep up with me. So far, Mabel has only brought me one useful thing. You have done nothing for me but complain. So tell me. What's the matter?" The whole time that Stan speaks, Soos eyes him somewhat annoyed.
Dipper stares at him, unmoving, with a confused expression planted on his face the whole time, "I don't know, Grunkle Stan. I just don't feel well today. I didn't want to come on this brutal expedition in the first place. I guess I should have told you from the beginning. I-I tried but-"
"What is that it? Dipper, come down here," Stan smiles, relieved before waving him down.
