Willow awoke before the others. She could already tell that the day would be a real scorcher, and promptly retrieved her grass hat from her pack. She got the fire going again and fried up some leftover food. Abigail floated about camp, exchanging an occasional smile with Willow.

She's a cute girl, Willow thought. Shame such a bright little child had to be torn so violently from the world. Unlike Wendy, Abigail actually liked Willow, which made her feel a little better about herself. She was used to hate, so when she got a smile it really meant the world to her.

Not long after, Wendy woke up. Though still haggard, she still looked oceans better than she had yesterday evening.

"Hey Wendy," Willow began. "Would you like to help me with something today?"

Wendy eyed her suspiciously as Abigail swirled around her in greeting.

"I know where we can get some manure that would be a great fertilizer for some gardens. Since we may be here for a while, I figured it might be wise to get a good food supply going."

Abigail seemed to get quite excited about this, and she spoke something in her strange, distorted voice to Wendy. Whatever it was seemed to steer Wendy away from the stubbornness she looked to be harboring.

Wendy turned her attention back to Willow after Abigail had finished. "Okay," she said simply.

"Alright! Grab a hat and spear, and follow me. I'll bet Wilson will sleep into the afternoon in his condition, so we could be back before he wakes up if we're quick. I already have some baskets out there since I was going to do this before I saw Wilson's signal fire." She turned to face the direction they were to head, and threw her fist in the air enthusiastically. "Come, let us go!" She heard a giggle from Abigail and a groan from Wendy.

They walked for almost an hour before arriving in a large clearing with tall, yellow grass. Though she had seen them before, Willow was still stupefied by the creatures that inhabited this area.

She had lovingly nicknamed them beefalo. Though they bore little resemblance to actual beefalo, they were shaped vaguely like buffalo, with long, shaggy hair and humped backs. She once found a recently killed one (likely by the work of hounds or some other beast), and had taken and eaten some of the meat, which had tasted shockingly similar to beef. Thus the name 'beefalo.'

"Here we are!" Willow announced, though the twins obviously both realized that this was their destination. Willow scanned the area until she found where she had stashed the two woven baskets. She retrieved them along with a couple of large, flat rocks that they would use as shovels.

"It won't be pretty but… let's do this," she said, handing Wendy a rock and a basket. It was hot, stinky work, but with two people the baskets filled quite quickly. The beefalo looked on, lowing at them if they got too close, but never running away. It seemed they were either very trusting, or were used to not having anything to fear. It would likely take a whole pack of hounds to take on just one of these huge beasts, and there were over a dozen of them in this herd alone. Those big horns didn't evolve on a creature that didn't have something to gore, and it seemed that a single hit from one of them could definitely do some serious damage, even to one of those burly hounds.

Willow hummed as she worked, much to Abigail's delight. She tried to sing along at times, her voice sounding like a spooky wind. Creepy, but cute. Willow wished Wendy wasn't so stubborn and would join in, but even with Abigail beckoning her she still refused. She'll loosen up eventually, Willow decided. They were just finishing up when they heard a new voice on the wind.

"Is other people!" the thundering words boomed.

The girls swung around in sync to see the source of the sound. There stood a monstrous man, unnervingly tall and muscle-bound.

"Hello, other people!" he cried, approaching him with his hands held wide as if to try and get their attention, as if he honestly could be missed.

Wendy grabbed her spear and pointed it at the man, and Abigail flew to her side protectively.

What happened next was something you definitely don't see every day. The giant released an uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal of terror, and ran screaming into the trees. They heard the muffled crashes of branches being run into and broken, followed by a thump and yet another voice crying, "Get OFF me you big, lumbering oaf!"

Willow and Wendy exchanged confused glances.

Willow gripped the black-tipped spear she had borrowed from Wilson, and approached the trees. She followed the path of destruction he had left until she found the large man bent over an older lady, helping her up and brushing the leaf litter off her, muttering apologies.

"What on earth got you in such a fuss, lad?" the lady exclaimed, her squinty eyes glaring at him from behind rectangular glasses. "You're lucky you didn't break my back!"

"Ghost!" the man sputtered. He sounded like he was about to start crying. "There was ghost!"

"Preposterous! Wolfgang, you know ghosts don't exist."

"But I saw one! Over there!" He pointed over at Willow, only then noticing her standing there.

The old lady looked over at her in surprise. "Why, that's no ghost, you lout! That's a lady!" Wolfgang only whimpered in reply. She slowly approached Willow. "Sorry about that young lady, I'm afraid Wolfgang here can be a bit jumpy at times. I'm Miss Wickerbottom. What would your name be?"

"…Willow," she replied. This old woman unnerved her. She seemed shockingly similar to the lady that ran the orphanage. Strict, gruff, and way too old fashioned.

"Say, you wouldn't have a place to rest nearby, would you miss Willow? My old bones aren't the best for all this wilderness tomfoolery, and I would appreciate a comfortable place to sit."

"Uhh… yeah, we've got a camp not too awfully far from here. I suppose you're welcome to join us, though technically I too am a visitor there so I can't guarantee a permanent place to stay."

"No worries, even a place where we can tarry for a moment would be exquisite."

Willow looked up at the giant, Wolfgang, and got an idea. "How about this. I'll lead you two to camp if you carry our loot. How does that sound big guy?" However, Wolfgang was too busy looking around frantically to acknowledge Willow's proposal.

"I suppose that would be reasonable," Wickerbottom offered. "What needs to be carried?"

"It's back over here." She began to lead them to Wendy. "Also, I couldn't help but notice that he was… scared of ghosts," Willow whispered to Wickerbottom. "How much of a problem would it be if we… uh… had one?"

"Bah, there's no such thing, child! No need to worry about it."

"I'm serious."

Wickerbottom gave her a strange look. "Now isn't that a childish thing to say? I would expect it from Wolfgang, but not from an obviously intelligent woman such as yourself."

"I swear, it's true! You'll see for yourself in a moment," she replied grumpily.

They got back to the savannah-esque clearing where Wendy was sitting down in the shade of a tree, playing with a flower. Abigail sat next to her, watching.

"I see no ghost. Just two adorable young girls!" Wickerbottom seemed far too delighted to see them. She apparently really liked kids.

"Well, you're in for a surprise," Willow muttered under her breath as Wickerbottom walked over to the twins. Though she did have to admit that a trick of the light was making Abigail look more tangible than usual.

"There! There ghost!" Wolfgang cried, pointing at the girls. The twins looked at each other, and both did a mischievous smile. Abigail suddenly swooped up into the air and made a terrifying noise that scared even Willow. Wolfgang screamed and dove for cover behind a fallen log, his rear end still exposed. Wickerbottom jumped and clutched at her heart.

"I say, what a trick that was! Now, turn off your silly little gizmo there, you've had your fun."

Abigail giggled and floated back down to Wendy, who was standing at this point. She was laughing to.

"Abigail is no toy. She's my sister!" Abigail nodded and floated around Wendy a couple times, leaving behind ghostly wisps as she went.

"Oh dear me, that really isn't a trick, is it?"

"No siree, it ain't!" Willow exclaimed, proud of little Abigail for putting on such an impressive display.

Wickerbottom gave Willow a dirty look. One that said, if I had a ruler right now, I would whack your fingers with it. "'Ain't' isn't a word miss Willow."

Willow rolled her eyes. She was one of those old ladies. "Well sor-ry," Willow drawled as sarcastically as she could muster. "Come on, I want to get back to camp before it gets too hot to travel."

Wickerbottom scowled at Willow's reaction, but elected to ignore it for now. "Agreed. Wolfgang, come along dear. Help these nice young ladies carry their… er… oh dear, what is that?"

"Manure," Wendy explained bluntly.

"Oh my, whatever for?"

"Gardens."

"I see…" She looked over at Wolfgang, who was peering over the log at Abigail. "Wolfgang, get over here and pick these up! We don't have all day!" Wickerbottom commanded, snapping her fingers a couple times.

Wolfgang was obviously more scared of the old lady's wrath than the ghost, since he slowly emerged from the log and approached the group, staying as far away from Abigail as possible. She was kind enough to keep her distance.

"Now if you would, carry these for us? Surely someone as mighty as you should have no problem doing so." She emphasized the word 'mighty' in such a way that Wolfgang instantly brightened up, and he puffed out his chest slightly.

He nodded and hefted the baskets up to his shoulders like they didn't weigh a thing, and the group began their trek back to camp. With Wolfgang carrying the heavy baskets, their trip was surprisingly short and they made it back before Wilson had even woken up, as Willow had expected. However, he began to stir once the noise from the large group entered the area.

"What… what's going on?" Wilson asked blearily.

"We've got some new guests Wilson!" Willow exclaimed.

"…So we do," he mumbled, gazing up at Wolfgang's humongous form with bafflement.

They made their introductions and settled down in the shade to tell their stories and avoid the afternoon heat.

Wilson, Willow, and Wendy all told their tales on how they had come to the island, followed by Wickerbottom.

"My own motive wasn't too unlike Mr. Higgsbury's," she began. "I was on a quest for knowledge. I was a librarian as well as an author you see, so any opportunity I could find new, interesting things to write about was superb. I was having a bit of writer's block at the time. I couldn't find a good topic for my newest book, and I was growing desperate.

"A man in a fancy suit, who we now know to be Maxwell, came to me one day and told me of a scientist who created a magnificent machine, and he was looking for someone to help document it. This immediately gained my interest, and after a bit of convincing, I agreed to go with him to see this grand invention.

"The place was on the outskirts of a small, blink-and-you'll-miss-it town not too awfully far from my own, so I promptly travelled to it. Strange place it was, I thought at the time. Odd that someone would stage a laboratory out in a decrepit old cabin clear out in the woods like that." She gave a sly, knowing look to Wilson, who blushed and refused to make eye contact with anybody.

"I knocked on the door multiple times, but nobody answered, of course. I was just going to come back later, but Maxwell told me that I could just walk in, assuring me that the owner wouldn't mind. I was suspicious of his claims due to all the 'keep out' signs-" another blush from Wilson, "—but Maxwell wouldn't let me leave. He insisted that it was perfectly fine, that the scientist was probably working on something and didn't hear the summons. So we entered and made out way up to the top floor where I found the strange contraption.

"It was nothing like what I had expected it to be. It didn't look like something that would really do anything, it was just a rickety chunk of scrap metal and wood. I assumed that whoever would make such a thing was a madman. A theory that has proven to be at least somewhat true," she teased.

"Maxwell told me to try out the machine to see what it does. The whole time I was with him he was very vague on the subject of what it does, so naturally I was both curious and suspicious. He showed me the lever to turn it on. I really wanted to try it out, but I was terribly nervous. I didn't know this man, Maxwell. Would he be one to trick me? What would he gain from doing so to an old lady? I have nothing of worth, so killing me to rob me of my belongings would be counterproductive and foolish. I also didn't know this mysterious scientist. How would he react to a couple of people walking into his home and toying with his inventions? What did this particular contraption even do, and was it dangerous at all?

"In the end, curiosity killed this cat. Upon further promptings and reassurances from Maxwell, I pulled the lever. Oh Wilson, I know it's not entirely your fault, but why would you build such a terrible thing? I don't think I had ever been that scared before in my life. Long story short, I ended up here on this island a few days ago. Soon after I found Wolfgang, quickly followed by all of you. That's how I got here.

"Now, tell the nice people here your story, Wolfgang," Wickerbottom said. Wolfgang had been keeping a close eye on Abigail throughout the other's stories, and he cast one last uneasy glance at her before beginning. Though his sentences were simple, but he made up for it more than enough by his large motions and actions as he told his tale.

"I was strongman in circus. The mightiest for miles around! But maybe not in whole world, so I wanted to become the mightiest. Magic man come tell Wolfgang he could make him mightiest. I was very excited. Agreed and shook his hand. Everything went black, and I was very very scared. Woke up on island! Monsters everywhere, even more scary! But I find Wickerbottom who knows how to make light and scare away monsters. That is the end."

"Short and sweet, I like it." Willow nodded in approval at Wolfgang's story.

Once they had all completed their stories and small talk, the worst of the afternoon was gone. They split up duties and worked on expanding the camp. Garden plots were made and planted, sleeping mats were woven, fish and rabbits caught, wood chopped, spiders killed, and more. Before nightfall they each took a turn to bathe and wash their clothes in the river. By the time the sun went down, the camp looked almost like a proper living place.

Late that night, they sat by the fire Willow had prepared. She had become the unofficial fire starter, since she was an expert at making a better, brighter fires out of less wood. She sat and watched the flames as Wolfgang and Wendy slept. She listened to Wickerbottom and Wilson talk.

"Have you noticed the strange eyes on all the animals?" Wickerbottom asked.

"Yes, I have," Wilson replied. "I try not to think too much about it, it kind of creeps me out. I've just chalked it up to be some sort of evolutionary anomaly."

"Ah, but what if it isn't? What if there's some kind of disease, a corruption if you will, that does such a thing? It's far too strange for all of them to just have white eyes. They're all still similar enough to mainland creatures that I doubt that they have all gone through convergent evolution like that. Everything from arachnids to mammals all have the same aberration, so it's highly likely there is some other source."

"Indeed… I wonder how they are able to see without pupils. They must have some curious retinal abnormality that reflects white light in such a way that it gives the illusion of not having pupils. I wish I had the proper equipment to study this more fully! What purpose does it serve?" Then a thought struck Wilson. "Wait, I do know of one creature on this island that still has pupils. The pigmen. Maybe only sentient beings retain their pupils? If that's so, perhaps that's why none of us have caught whatever 'disease'—if there is one—that turns the eyes white."

"No, I don't think so. Wolfgang and I saw these large, one-eyed birds that very obviously had pupils. They were dumb as bricks too."

"What about the animals that have that strange purple meat and black blood? I would bet that the same thing that's corrupting the eyes may have something to do with that."

"Not to mention the fact that certain stuff seem to do that strange thing to your head when you're near them. Those ugly, stinking flowers that I found the other day, for example. I felt like my head was full of angry wasps, buzzing about and making my head hurt."

"Yes!" Wilson exclaimed. "We saw this strange shadow creature last night that did the same thing! It was like something was clawing at my mind. Now that I think about it, when I was attacked by those huge hounds, they seemed to have the same effect. Anytime I touched them, the contact would feel like my flesh was burning… but… cold. Not quite like sticking your hand into snow or something for too long. No, it felt like it was… for lack of a better word, corrupting my very cells, invading them with some horrible presence."

Like Maxwell's touch… Willow thought, still listening to the two.

Wilson looked over to where his spear was leaned against a tree. The tip still had the black sooty smudge on it. "I believe Maxwell may be affected by this corruption." He quickly explained how Maxwell's blood had dripped across the spearhead, turning it to black wherever it touched. His blood had been the unnaturally dark color as some of the monsters on the island.

"Curious indeed…" Wickerbottom mused. "There must be a lot more to this island than meets the eye. It seems not all things are corrupted equally, such as the rabbits we ate for dinner. The only symptom they show are the white eyes, but their flesh is perfectly edible, and their blood is red. I wonder what determines how they are affected."

"This whole island is a mystery. I hope that someday I can get the proper chance to study it."

"Likewise, Mr. Higgsbury. I could write a whole series of books on all the flora and fauna here! After I publish a journal on my experiences, of course. It might be too early to hope for too much, but I can't wait to get back home to my typewriter and begin. I already know how I would start my first book…"

Wilson and Wickerbottom excitedly continued their discussion on what they planned to do after they got off the island, but Willow's attention drifted away from the conversation. What would she do if she were to escape? She didn't really have much to go back to. No family to welcome her home. Her job had probably already replaced her, and her landlord had likely considered her long gone. She would basically have to start over from scratch, this time not even with her pack and teddy bear. Her eyes got a bit watery thinking of how they likely had thrown away all of her stuff, including her beloved bear. She would likely never see him again.

Would going back even be worth it? Sure, living in the wilderness was a chore, but at least she had something here. A place to sleep, food, and even a few people she dare call friends.

Did she really want to leave?

This chapter is dedicated to Yellow-Pyromaniac on Tumblr, 'cause they're an awesome person and they made the most amazingly adorable Don't Starve comics. Keep up the good work! Don't let anything or anyone discourage you!