Sometimes Alice acted like a thirteen year-old girl. Which means she had lots of sharp mood swings, craved food periodically (mostly meat), and had a tendency for being very possessive (especially with her manservant, well, he was her slave, after all!). Other times, she acted like a two year-old. Why shouldn't she? She didn't know anything about this world; she'd lost all of her memories, and from what they'd seen recently, she'd spent her previous life locked in a tower. She was curious (especially about food); she poked her nose into every corner of everything (you never knew what this world could give).
Oz had different ages too-most of them were set off by Alice. Fifteen: flirting with other girls, (oh, how cross that got her!) making googly eyes at Sharon, (what did he see in that twit?) and pasting a great big grin on his face, even when she knew he was lost and cold and unhappy. Somewhere in his twenties: Not exactly twenty-five, maybe twenty-two. Not quite settling down, you know, but deciding where he might settle down, when he has the time. Then, here was the strangest one, perhaps of both of their ages combined. Sometimes, Oz acted like a mother. Two year-olds, you know, need mothers, because they're forever getting lost and hurt and scared, and they don't know much yet, and it's a mother's job to protect the poor things from a harsh world.
Today, unfortunately for Oz, was going to be a two year-old day, for it was the Midsummer's Festival, and Alice had never been to one before. Her exuberance new no bounds, even though this was a rather small carnival, according to Sharon, that is (who had been to the Grand Reiville Jubilee). However, to Alice, this small occasion seemed quite extraordinary and impressive, with the glowing red lights floating along the roadsides, the chattering and good-natured vendors, the noise of exultant people, and, perhaps best of all, the aroma of many, many new foods to test; and to Oz, it seemed perhaps much, much vaster than anything, because, quite frankly, Alice was in a curious mood, and there were many, many twisted streets and darkened alleys that she might lose herself down, and, to put it sharply, the world wasn't made of good people alone. Alice knew that, sort of, but it was in a childish way that she knew it, and she wasn't prepared for this world. He could only hope she would tire quickly- something he knew was very unlikely to happen.
Alice was chomping down meat in a fashion that would make even Break sick, when something caught Oz's eyes. A bright lit stall, red and green draped, with a humongous sign with, big, bold letters. PETS FOR SALE! It exclaimed, almost noisily. But what really caught his eyes was a fluffy black bunny, small and very young, barely old enough to be separated from its mother. "Hey miss, what's the cost of the rabbit?" he asked as he drifted towards the booth. "Eight dollars, no less young'un." She paused. "I'd like to give it free, but I avn't got much, and I support a large family." He grinned cheekily. "I've got enough. Eight, you say?" He passed the bills, picking up the small fluff ball. "Hey, Alice! Look what I go-…!" He scanned the area quickly, frantically. No Alice. No Alice! "Excuse me, miss. I seem to have lost my person. Would you keep this while I look for her?" Oz asked, emotionlessly, except for the terror in his eyes, then set the bunny down and dashed off.
Your throat closes up. A cold flood of panic engulfs you. You call and call and call and call and call but there's no answer. The silence rushes up like a great wind and surrounds you. Your chest aches, your voice scratches in your throat, and that's when the tears force themselves from your eyes, trickling hesitantly down your cheeks. But you wipe them away, because you have to be strong. And they're dead, they're dead, you know they are, because you aren't there to protect them anymore. And the guilt and panic make you sick, and your fists clench against the urge to vomit. Because you disgust yourself.
Oz tore about like a mad-man, calling, calling, calling for his lost Alice, and it seemed like years before he heard her childish laughter, around a dark corner. He turned sharply-and there she was. Dabbing her fingers in brilliant colors of orange, violet, ruby and scarlet, cerise, yellow, sapphire and grey, and smearing it across the canvas in a mad dash of a sunset. She looked up. And beamed gleefully, blissful delight gushing from her ever gesture. And his heart stopped, his voice caught somewhere in his throat, and he wasn't a mother anymore (or a boy pretending to be one) but fully fifteen in every way, a teenager with his heart just knocked up, because her smile was the sun. "Oz! Look, this stuff's called painting! Isn't it magnificent?" She really wasn't expecting to be seized in a sudden hug, or to hear his voice whisper harshly in her ear. "You nearly killed me. Never never never never never never never leave ever ever again." She scowled. "You didn't come with me. That's not my fault." He sighed. "Alice…never mind. I'll go wait by the merchant while you paint, 'kay?" He rose, patted her head, twice and went to stand by the old woman. "Are you okay? You seemed a…a bit, um… worried?" He grins. "Oh yeah! You know, she just has a habit of wandering off!" He laughed sheepishly, biting his lip and rubbing the back of his head. "I guess…I guess I should be used to it by now, I mean…Hah! But…whenever she's gone, I feel like she's dead, I'm certain of it, and it would've been all my fault, and, and…Well, yeah." There is a loud pause of silence, and then Alice is running up, bouncing, happy, and wanting to bring her picture home. Oz slaps down a dollar, grins, shouts "have a good day", and runs to catch up to an already wandering Alice. "Hey Alice! I bought you something!" "MEAT?" "No, it's a rabbit!" Pause. "Does it look like me, when I'm-" Laughter. "No! No, it's small, soft, and fluffy!" "What? Manservant! What's the point of that?!" More laughter. "It's nice company, Alice! It can be your friend!" "Aren't you my friend, Oz?" "Of course! You're so cute, Alice!" Smack. "Know your place! Anyway, if you're my friend, why do I need another one?" Pause. "For when I'm gone, Alice." "You're leaving?!" "No! No, it's just…Accidents, things, they happen, Alice. And, well, I'm not the only person in the world!" "It still sounds like you're leaving." "I'm not!" "Good. Your place is by me." "And yours by me." "OZ! You cheeky little bas-" "Ah-ah-ah, Alice! Maybe you need to wash your mouth out with soap!" "Wha-? Does it taste good?" "Um…Never mind, Alice!" "What?!" "Er…Just don't eat it. Don't." "Fine." "That's good." "Stop patting my head, Oz!" "Heheheheh!" "MANSERVANT!" The old woman gazes after them, shaking her head in slight disapproval, yet smiling all the same. Ah, so young. So, so young. She briefly touches her aching hip (It's going to rain soon, that's for sure!) and smiles again. "Good day, young'uns!" They probably don't hear her, but maybe they do, and she'll say it all the same. And may the rest that follow after also be a blessing. May good fortune smile upon you, and may the ruts in your paths not be too deep, may you find the way home. May you always find Home. She remembers the bright colors dashed on the piece of paper, and smiles. Whatever they're in for, they're getting an adventure, that's for sure.