"I still can't get over how terrible that was," Paint said as she and Arrowhead trudged away from his house. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," he replied encouragingly. "You're just not very experienced with handling toasters. And hey, most of the pancake batter stayed in the bowl, right?"
"I guess you're right, heh. And if I do say so myself, the salvageable chunks of eggs were pretty tasty. You did a good job helping."
"If by 'a good job' you mean 'didn't knock anything else over when I cowered out of the way of the airborne dollops of batter', then yeah, I did," he muttered.
"Don't fret, my fellow adventurer! Let's set this behind us and never look back, just like your parents did with the plates. Onward to learn of the troubling tales of the trouble with the tails, Paint the Mutt Knight of Courage and Kindness!"
"I'm adventuring in my head already!" the faithful toad chirped.
It didn't look like the two friends would be uninterrupted on their quest for long: Max the Firefly and Jewel the Hyena were striding up.
"'Sup, Marrowhead? Want to scare some little kids with me and Drool here - or, more interestingly, start up that game of cards we talked about?" Max asked coolly.
"Yeah, Arrow," chimed Jewel, "we haven't done much lately, and that makes me sad." With that, Max roughly tousled his hair. Paint couldn't tell whether this was just jovial or Max was reprimanding his friend for showing sensitivity - maybe both.
"Uh, actually, Paint and I are going somewhere," said Arrowhead.
Max stared at Paint, giving her an unflattering look and curling his antennae up a little. With his head turned toward her but still speaking to Arrowhead, Max asked, "Why's that? Don't you have better things to do? Even if your two best friends don't take precedence, surely something has to outrank Paint?"
Before she could stop herself, she retorted, "Maybe he wants to be with me right now, Max. You guys hang out with him plenty; why do you need to be jealous of me for getting a little time with him? Oh, and nice green eyes; they match your butt nicely."
That was too far, apparently. Max lunged at her furiously, pinning her on the ground in the process. When he spoke to Jewel, however, his voice exhibited an icy relaxation.
"Yo, Jewel! I've got her pinned! I know I've trained you well, so let's see it in action! Whale on her a bit and show her what happens when you forget your place and mess with us!"
Jewel stepped up, shaking a little. While Arrowhead sat quivering, too afraid to help out either party, Jewel readied his clenched fist for impact. He pulled it back before sending it coursing forward. However, Paint was weeping a little and flinched, and Jewel had already decided that he wouldn't go through with it.
Max was confused. "Jewel, wh-"
Jewel spoke icily to Paint, a hatred coursing through his voice that truly frightened her. "Do you know what an overgrown seed does when she steps out of line and someone is merciful enough not to knock her unconscious?"
Paint couldn't even muster the energy to expel much air from her mouth. "Wh-what?"
Jewel filled her in. "She leaves."
Impressed with Jewel's alternative to physical violence, Max let her up. She staggered for a few steps before collapsing onto Arrowhead.
"'Row, get her out of my sight," Max commanded. "It was a bad idea to bring her along, but I forgive you. That doesn't mean I want to look at her any longer."
Solemnly, they kept walking in the direction of Morris' hut. Neither one felt much like talking to someone with a notoriously grumpy demeanor after an altercation like that, but they were also not about to go back to Arrowhead's house, not after they had come so far and Max and Jewel were likely to be waiting around in the same place. They could sit and think for a while.
Her eyes mostly dry, Paint looked back at the two little prejudice enforcers. Max was staring off into space, unsmiling, but Jewel was looking back at them, clearly concerned for her.
In a way, Paint wished she could rescue Jewel from Max. They'd been accosting her on occasion for years, but Jewel had increasingly seemed uncommitted, like he didn't want to hurt her - maybe even wanted to be friends or something - but was afraid. It wasn't even about gathering another ally to wait out the eternal storm with her; she was genuinely sad for him.
Having walked their appropriate course, Paint and Arrowhead sat down, slumped against a thick-trunked tree.
Paint spoke cynically to her friend. "Arrow, if my parents are watching over me, they need glasses, and fast."
He could only nod in bitter agreement. It wasn't fair; it wasn't fair at all.
