The red eyed demon lunged out of Greedy's way and at Clumsy, managing to successfully smurf him across the muzzle in the process. Clumsy yipped and barked at the contact, the resulting pain sharp and very uncomfortable. The red eyed monster than tried to tackle Puppy, only to get knocked off by said dog. Pansy whimpered, and Clumsy was smurfed between trying to protect her and trying to help the others attack the creature. The stinging ache his muzzle still had convinced him it would be a better choice to try and protect Pansy. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Much easier. The red eyed thing kept trying to get away from its attackers, and every time it tried that it would attempt to make Pansy its next victim. Clumsy got a few more swipes every time it did, and soon his face was covered in so many at various angles that it looked like it had become one of the Smurflings' checker boards. The creature thrashed and snarled constantly at anything it could, and Clumsy started to wonder if it could or would ever smurf out of energy.
Then, well, Greedy sort of lost it. He charged after it again and again, and for his troubles got more than a few swipes to the eyes. Puppy eventually gave up trying to attack the red eyed monster and went on to trying to stop Greedy. Clumsy was able to gather that it wasn't smurfing at all when Puppy was given a blow to the head and didn't get back up. The red eyed creature chose then to vanish into midair, but the joy smurfed by the "victory" was short lived. The very air seemed to get colder when Greedy turned on Clumsy, still growling, and charged. Puppy stayed down, and Clumsy's worry only grew. This was bad. This was very bad. He just managed to jump out of the way in time, Pansy holding onto his neck as tightly as she could. The roaring bear, which at the moment he refused to recognize as the kind Smurf he knew as the village cook and his brother, simply turned and followed them, catching up quickly. Pansy was swatted off of his neck as if she was a simple fly, and Clumsy was shoved to the ground. His skull ached.
Being shoved into the ground would do that, especially if the shoving was done by a grown bear with an anger problem. The bear's claws dug into the back of his neck. Clumsy was pretty sure that they were deep enough to draw blood, and he bit back a yip as they dug even deeper. Then…nothing. The bear stopped, even took its claws out, and then did nothing but grumble and shake its head in every direction. Clumsy staggered up off of the ground and then rushed over to where he thought Pansy was. To his disappointment, he didn't smurf her there or anywhere nearby. Hopefully she had escaped in one piece during the struggle, but nothing was certain anymore. Nothing. This scary thought, well on its way to becoming fact, was cemented further by the deafening roar that came from behind him. Clumsy was out of energy, out of his seemingly endless optimism, and out of luck. He did try to run, though, even if that did no good in the end. The bear dove and got one of his legs, tearing into it with its razor-sharp teeth and claws. He wanted to get up, to fight back against the bear, to do something… But the pain was just too much. He collapsed. Clumsy didn't want to get up again, and toyed briefly with the idea of just staying down and never getting back up.
Then he thought of the village, of his home, and of Brainy, his best friend. He didn't know yet if either were safe, and the thought that they just might be in danger was enough reason to try to stand. The bear smurfed again at his leg and roared even loader, making his ears ring. If Clumsy wanted to get out of there, he needed to get up now and beat it. He tried to move forward but stumbled and almost ended up with his head smashed into a tree. The bear did not expect this, and as such ended up tripping over him when it charged again. In a situation that anywhere else would have seemed funny, it actually did slam its head into the tree. Clumsy took advantage and successfully fled from the area to a place where he really hoped the bear wouldn't be able to follow him into. The trees were close enough together that he himself was having a hard time getting through, so hopefully the bear, which was multiple times his size, would have even more difficulty than Clumsy. Said Smu- errr, dog, was leaning up against a tree and panting. Minutes went by, and when no rustling or roaring could be heard, Clumsy smurfed towards where the Smurf village was supposed to be.
Grumbling to himself and keeping his eyes on the ground, Hefty avoided the continual glares and looks the other two animals smurfed him. Handy did likewise and dodged any and all questions Johan and Peewit asked. Perhaps one of them would have eventually cracked or given in, but they were "saved" by the sudden appearance of a very agitated as well as vicious large bear. Johan and Bayard charged the large creature and managed to momentarily surprise it, yet it seemed too dazed too really react. Its breathing was shallow and rough, and its eyes unfocused. It didn't even raise its head once the furry menace had Johan's sword to its neck. Hefty moved forward as well, being as slow and cautious as he could. The bear didn't even react to that, and only roared after several long moments had gone by. The sound was vicious, but… unfocused, if a word had to be used. It blindly swung a paw out, smurfing it into a tree only a few feet from Johan. The bear roared again, obviously not meaning to do that. It tried to run at Johan, snarling and roaring up a storm, but was foiled when it was kicked in the side by Biquette while Peewit cheered and jeered at the animal.
Hefty aimed a kick or two at it as well while trying to be mindful of Handy, who was clutching onto him for dear life. The bear snarled and growled, but slowly started to make a retreat. A few more head butts and kicks, as well as a swipe or two from Johan's sword, sent it running quickly in the opposite direction. The six looked at each other and then stared incredulously at where the bear had disappeared into the fog. This was followed by immediate laughs and cheers. Handy was laughing almost as loud as the thunder crackled, and Hefty couldn't believe their good fortune. How many people could walk away from a bear alive as well as say they got it to smurf tail. Alright, to be fair, it didn't seem all there and was probably ill, but still. The celebrating was cut short when they heard a sharp call for help. The humans didn't seem to hear it, which meant that it was made by some forest creature. It sounded very familiar to Hefty, just where had he heard it before? It sounded just like…like…Smurf it. That was Smurfette.
He took off suddenly to where he heard the shriek come from. It wasn't too far away, but the area itself was incredibly dense. Every other step there was a tree, bush, or prickly shrub. Still, Hefty managed to get to Smurfette just in time to see why she had screamed. There was a hunter, a human one with arrows that seemed to be hunting her. Well, that was assuming that the black deer actually was her, but stranger had happened. There was one of the disgusting things imbedded in the tree, just above Smurfette's head. His eyesight turned red, anger making his body shake. The human never knew what smurfed them. Hefty kicked and bucked the filthy excuse for life, neighing curses that it couldn't understand. The trouble with all this was, of course, since the day just obviously wasn't bad enough, was that his bucking threw the already battered Handy off and into a tree. The instant Hefty noticed, the battered human was all but forgotten. Johan, Peewit, and their hoofed companions caught up at this point. Of course they did, again, thank you so very much world.
Andy ached and stung. Henry had freaked out for no apparent reason after the encounter with the bear, and had charged off and almost slammed them both into numerous trees. They had come across a cornered deer and a hunter, and that was when things really started to become painful. Henry bucked him off as he kicked the hunter, which sent him flying into a very old and very hard tree. Thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken. He was covered in scrapes, and would probably later be covered in bruises, but it was nothing too serious. Then Andy tried to stand up and both his legs decided to give out on him. The hunter shouted and cursed at him and Henry from their position on the ground. Andy didn't know whether to feel happy for the deer that had just narrowly escaped death or to pity the poor injured hunter. Johan then entered the area with Peewit and their riding animals, much to his relief. Peewit helped him stand and Johan approached the screaming and cursing hunter. Henry also walked over and gave Andy a familiar presence to lean on, something he appreciated. Johan helped the hunter up, who had surprisingly gone quiet and even seemed sheepish.
"Sir, I hope you realize that hunting in this forest is against King Gerard's law." "King Gerard"? Andy wondered who that was, and was fairly certain that it was not the king Johan and Peewit had talked about earlier. Yet, the name sounded familiar. Very familiar. The hunter didn't respond, choosing instead to look down at their worn, patched brown boots and mutter. Johan sighed and looked warily up at the grey clouds and rain. The fog was thickening again, the lightning becoming even louder. He harshly barked something under his breath that only the apprehended hunter could hear and turned. Johan walked over to them, seemingly unconcerned when the criminal suddenly ran out of their area and into the trees.
"Johan?!" Peewit asked, his jaw hanging open. Johan just raised an eyebrow in turn as he looked behind him at the now unoccupied area. Now Andy, Henry, and Johan and Peewit's animals let their mouths hang open. Didn't Johan see the issue? Did he somehow NOT notice that the hunter, who was apparently a criminal, had vanished when he turned his back? When Johan mounted Bayard with a hard if not regretful look in his eye, it seemed as if he did in fact know and yet still chose to do nothing. The deer stood up and seemed unscathed from the attempt, yet, unnaturally for such a skittish creature, stayed in their presence. In fact, it even walked closer to them, albeit slowly.
"The poor man is probably starving. Besides that, what in the world would you propose I have done to him? If we were closer to King Gerard's kingdom or if the weather was nicer and more tolerable, I would have turned him in. From what I saw, he has not successfully killed any creatures yet, and shall learn his lesson if he wants to stay out of prison." Johan stiffly explained, not looking at Andy or his best friend. He slowly turned Bayard in the direction they had previously been going, and an uneasy Peewit and Biquette followed. Andy struggle to get back onto Henry, but managed to do so before the two other humans left his sight into the thick murky fog. Both of his legs were killing him, as was his head, but Andy just stayed silent and absentmindedly stroked Henry's neck. To add to the confusion, Andy gained a walking companion. The black deer, much to his surprise, came over and continued by his side, its blue eyes on Henry.
Jokey woke up cold wet and alone. Well, no, not alone. At first there had been a white rabbit. But it had darted away as soon as he had sat up, so for the most part he was alone. The pranking Smurf shuddered as he tried to think how in the world he had gone from being in the infirmary to smurfing out in the middle of the forest, but nothing came to mind. Then, much to his consternation and surprise, the red eyed creature had appeared soon after that and attacked him. He was bitten in less than a second and then just as quickly left to writhe in pain. The transformation came very quickly, and the end result was a split mind. One minute he thought he was a wild animal and the next a Smurf. Neither side was fully him, but they were still "parts" of what he once was. They acted as if they were two completely different people, but still he was in control of the body. It was almost like he was only half awake and constantly talking and listening to two people who wanted him to smurf very opposite things. So, he his body was occupied by three voices, all of which were him. That didn't make any real sense, but okay.
The village. We need to get back to the village.
Nonsense. We need to get back to our den.
We don't have a den. I don't think we do, at least.
Then we shall make a den.
No, we need to smurf back home.
Yes, home.
A den is a home.
No, a village is our home. We have family there. We must go back.
We have no family. We are going to make a den and that is final!
Does a den have surprises? I forget.
…
Does it?
N-no.
Home has surprises. We like surprises.
Of course we do. Don't we?
Yes. We could try creating surprises in the den.
Who would we give them to?
Others. There have always been others to give them to, haven't there?
Yes. It's fun to give surprises to others.
To see the look on their faces when their surprised, we like that.
The rain, however, is wet and cold and we do not like it.
Which is why we need to go back to the village.
Will the village be able to shelter us?
…
Would the village be willing to shelter us?
…
A den would. We could find others to prank later.
How do we make this den, then? We don't like the fog. The wind is too eerie, and we're shivering.
Fine. We'll make a den. Later, though, we're smurfing back to the village.
The village has others to prank.
We could quickly make a den out of that hillside.
How do we do that?
…
Well?
I'm not sure. We can try though.
Brilliant.
The sooner we are out of this icy rain, the better.
Agreed.
I think I have figured it out.
That's nice.
Oh, really? Then start digging.
…
We do know how, don't we?
The cave they resided in was uphill, thankfully, so no water rushed into it. That, coupled with the fact that the cave was located high up on the side of a cliff, kept them safe from most of the physical damage the storm could smurf. However, Miner was very aware of how mentally unstable his current companions were. They seemed to be getting worse over time, and so his worry grew accordingly. Brainy kept chirping and shrieking, to which Reporter would angrily squawk back some retort or comment. Tension was getting thicker by the second, and Miner feared an inevitable fight or tussle. Brainy then suddenly charged for the cave's opening, but was stopped short when Reporter's beak clamped around the edge of one of his wings. In turn, Brainy spun around and bit Reporter's neck. Reporter retaliated by smurfing hard on the bat's skull and whacking him with his wings while squawking some words that surely no one needed to hear and Miner was rather glad that he couldn't. Brainy shrieked in return and just bit even harder at Reporter's neck, smurfing blood and making his opponent furious.
Miner tried to separate the two, but was jabbed and kicked away and into one of the cave's rocky walls. His body was stinging and aching before that and the sharp hit to the back certainly did not help. Miner was tired, confused, and in a smurf of a lot of pain. He was ready to snap himself, just strangle the two knuckleheads and get it over with. That wouldn't be right, but as he watched Brainy and Reporter roll about the ground yelling at each other, Miner found himself caring less and less. His self-restraint was weakening, and part of him just wanted to jump in and start hollering and fighting as well. He did in fact jump in after it became too much, but just as quickly pulled the two apart. The two shrieked and squawked simultaneously as they turned their heads to look at him, but seeing his red face and twitching eye got them to think about what in the world they had just been smurfing.
Brainy was able to taste the blood on his tongue and made a face. He was fairly certain he wasn't a vampire bat, and questioned if he was even sure that was right. The blood on Reporters feathers was already drying, and Brainy was fairly sure he hadn't bitten his tongue, so he more or less had to accept what he had just been doing and whose blood it was. He smurfed up and looked at his feet, not quite sure how or what to say.
To be fair, neither did Reporter. He could see the scratches and nicks all along Brainy's wings. Scratches and nicks that he had caused while viciously yelling insults and phrases that would've had Papa Smurf ready to smurf him. How did one go about and apologize for that sort of thing anyway? "Sorry for trying to kill you, what say we just forget about this and make nice?"? Yeah, he didn't think so.
Remember how the cave was supposed to protect from most physical damage the storm could possibly do? That didn't include lightning. A yellow crackling flash struck the cave, and it quickly crumbled.
Lucky didn't even begin to describe Smurfette's current situation. By some miracle, the arrow had missed her. Not by much, and it was far too close for her smurfing, but it had still missed all the same. Then that hunter had been taken down, and that had just been so relieving Smurfette felt she would never be able to put it in words. Johan and Peewit had come and berated the human, even if they did scamper away soon after, which was even more relieving. That wasn't exactly the end of how lucky she had been, though. Oh no, the real topper to it all had been when she found that the horse who had stopped the hunter from smurfing again was none other than Hefty. It had taken her a small while to realize that it was him, what with all the other chaotic things also going on, but she had figured it out. Then he'd trotted over to a human, which wasn't even one they knew, and had helped them smurf up. She'd cautiously walked up to him and continued on beside him, trying to avoid the stares of the human. They were such strange creatures, and that one seemed far too familiar to be just a stranger she had never seen before.
"Hefty?" His reaction was delayed, and his voice slurred slightly when he did finally answer.
"Yeah?" So either he was really out of it and didn't recognize her and didn't realize how she smurfed him or he did recognize her and was just too tired to really react. Knowing Hefty, it was probably the latter.
"Thanks." It wasn't much, and she probably could have said a lot more, but she was exhausted and had just smurfed death in the face. If that wasn't grounds for a little peace and quiet, then, well…
"Oh, no problem." The only sound between the two for what felt like hours after that was the constant pattering of the rain and whooshing of the wind. Smurfette thought of something she could say, ways to ask who on earth the human was and why he was allowed to ride Hefty, but nothing good came to mind.
"Handy." Surprisingly, and much to her confusion, Hefty answered the question before she even got around to asking it.
"Hmm?" It didn't make much sense. What about Handy? No, Smurfette hadn't seen him lately, what with him being quarantined and her mutating and all, if that was the question.
"The human smurfing on me is Handy." Oh. Well, that was confusing as all get out, even if it did clear a lot of things up. Wait, no it didn't. Now she was more confused than ever. Hefty didn't seem too inclined to explain much beyond that, which certainly didn't help her. Same old Hefty: charming as could be, if not just as confusing or frustrating.
"How?" That question had a rather obvious answer, but the words tumbled out before Smurfette could stop them. She already knew how, or at least had a very good guess, but she kind of wanted confirmation. Or even, and this was in no way shape or form likely, just denial when Hefty really couldn't come up with a plausible answer and admitted he had been smurfing her on. After all, a Smurf turned Human? Ridiculous. Of course, so was the thought of a Smurf being turned into a deer. Smurfette didn't exactly have any room to talk or be critical. She thought about what had happened, what was probably happening, and how in the world they were going to smurf out of this one. She sniffled slightly, the thoughts none too pleasant. How surprised she was then, so caught up in unpleasant and recent memories, when she felt something warm press up against her as she walked.
One quick and very surprised look over confirmed that Hefty had gotten closer, and she was immensely grateful for that one silent move. The support and comfort she got out of it was enormous, even if no one else was around or could smurf themselves to notice it or care. Well, the human- apparently Handy- seemed startled by the movement, if only because it was sudden and also carried them abruptly over. Smurfette got herself an even bigger shock when she felt him petting her, stroking her. It was hesitant, but all the same it was a comforting action that did actually help quite a bit. Well, after the surprise smurfed off and away, of course.
The red eyed demon snarled and hissed at the same time, yet again making Papa Smurf wonder what on earth the thing even was. The thing had also presented him a far more pressing matter to consider. Would he call its bluff and hope to high smurf that this thing wasn't serious, or would he run out and find out how horribly he'd done in the end? This thing seemed like it would be amused with either.
"Y-you're lying." He cursed himself mentally when he stumbled over the first word, ruining any image of confidence or certainty he had managed to gather. It laughed its horrible screechy laugh in his face at that, which lowered his hopes considerably. It took a step towards the door and then one closer to him, its laughs still as deranged as they had originally been. In fact, now they seemed even more unhinged and insane.
"Am I? Why would I bother to craft lies and spread deceit in your mind if it wasn't true? If you're so sure, just open that door and take a look at your once mighty village. I won't stop you." It added the last part when it noticed his glare. Even then, how could eh trust that its magic wouldn't twist what he saw? He had no idea what this thing was or what it could smurf. With the luck Papa Smurf had been having, it probably had powers akin to that of a god. If only all it could do was twist his mind with false words, for that was far better than the monster being able to attack and mutate his little Smurfs into animals against their will. The look on Sassette's face from the other night suddenly smurfed up to haunt him, and he exhaled a shaky breath. The image of her, bloody and beaten, all because of this creature, would never leave him. He felt sick just thinking about how assured she had been, how certain that her Papa Smurf could just fix everything and make the world right again. The room, dark as it was, seemed to spin the more he dwelled on it. Even then, when he wasn't being held captive in his own home by a red eyed cretin and its mind games, he had failed.
"How do I know it's not an illusion or that you won't kill me after I smurf as you suggest?" The laughing abruptly stopped. No giggling or snickering, nor snarling or gnashing. The thing got even closer and narrowed its eyes. Even if he couldn't see anything but those inexplicably red glowing eyes, the sharp and menacing grin was evident in its tone.
"You don't."
The problem was not that Slouchy was being irritable, because he wasn't. No, he was just cranky and wanted to rant and shout and pass out all at once. He wanted to make Sassette smurf what she had just done and make sure she would never ever do it again, because just the thought of it made his blood boil and hair stand up on end. Slouchy wanted to throttle her and the darned red eyed beats that had caused all of this in the first place. Okay, so he was irritable. Could anyone blame him? Oh, sure. No problem. Could they smurf so and mean it? Probably. Snappy certainly did, and Sassette was more hurt than anything. She still didn't know, and Snappy was apparently in fierce denial about it ever having happened. If an event happened but no one remembered it or ever smurfed it back up, did it exist?
Nat would have been able to defuse the situation and get them to work together, but Nat wasn't there. No, he was missing somewhere and they would be lucky to ever smurf of him or see him again. That could be said for any of the other Smurfs or anyone they knew. When, if really, they got back to the village, there was no guarantee that it would be intact or safe. Not if that demon was still on the loose and hunting others down. His throat only got drier the more he thought about it and Slouchy shook his head slightly in an attempt to block out the thoughts. Nat would have knocked him out of it. Nat wasn't there though, so he had to make do. That was all they had been doing lately, adjusting and trying to smurf these hectic things out into something sane. They hadn't succeeded once yet, but that was hardly relevant. Well, at least to his two irresponsible siblings who he really wanted to hug and kill at the same time.
Sassette was slightly bigger than he, but Slouchy had no doubt that he'd be able to overpower her if need be. It was disturbing to even have to wonder that, to question if he could take her, his sister, down if she lost it again. It wasn't the kind of thing anyone ever expected, ever wanted, to have to question or think about, especially if the end result meant saving someone's life. Slouchy, for the life of him, couldn't smurf up anything successful. Nat would have been able to give him an answer that was peaceful yet plausible. Nat wasn't there though, as Slouchy mentally bemoaned for the millionth time, so he would have to think something up. Judging by the wild look Sassette continued to get every time Snappy's attention was elsewhere, he'd need to smurf it quick.
How, though? Slouchy was level-headed, yes, but responsibility for their little group as a whole always seemed to fall to Nat or one of the adults. None of the adults were around, or else they wouldn't be in this mess, and Nat certainly wasn't. Sassette was the second closest thing they had to a responsible person, but she was definitely NOT an option at the moment. She cemented this opinion by suddenly smurfing hard on Slouchy's tail. Sassette then proceeded to try and rip it from his body. Smurf it, they really needed a peaceful presence like Nat's right then.
Nat really wanted to be somewhere peaceful. He needed to smurf into an area like that quick, before he started acting out again. He'd regained his senses to find himself surrounded by various animals, each of which could knock him into next week without breaking a sweat. Nat had hightailed it out of their before they did just that, noting with some disappointment that whatever had happened had not endeared him to anyone. It was always sad to think that an animal, especially one of the forest's, was angry or displeased with him. Not that any of them had been paying attention, caught up in fighting with a red eyed beast that Nat recognized and knew all too well. He'd smurfed as fast as he could out of there before any of the animals started to fight with him again or whatever they had been doing. How in the world he had gone from wandering the forest to being covered in painful dirty wounds as well as having matted tangled fur, Nat wasn't sure he wanted to know.
After all, he had probably been the instigator to whatever debacle had occurred. It wasn't a pleasant thought, nor was the one that he might've actually smurfed any of the other animals. Caught up in his thinking, Nat accidentally bumped into an old log which scraped against one of his wounds. Needless to say, it hurt. Smurf, it hurt. Then he tried to keep from yowling as he more or less dragged himself inside said log. Yes, the first time hadn't worked well at all, but Nat was far too tired, injured, and way too confused to care about how this was going to end. Still, he was not in the least surprised when it started breaking down thanks to the humid and brutal weather. Now his big issue was finding a nice place where he could go and get shelter before he ended up breaking down in said weather like the dead tree had. Where, though, could he go? What place would allow him to smurf in? Where could Nat permit himself to go in full confidence? It was a wonder he had full control of himself after losing it so spontaneously, and he suspected he didn't even have that.
There was something gnawing, quite literally, at the back of his mind. It was starving and terrified and just wanted out. Was it terrifying that Nat could relate? This thing had almost caught food, even if its plan had backfired spectacularly, and it seemed to smurf better about what to do than he. Nat only knew how to deal with these kinds of situations as a Smurfling, not a raccoon. Even if a raccoon could eat Smurfberries, something he knew they could do, it would take far more than what Smurfling Nat would have been able to satisfy himself with. That was supposing that any Smurfberry bushes were still standing too. Not to mention any means of making shelter were much harder since he had no opposable thumbs. No shelter, no apparent food, no means of defense… It really wasn't looking too good.
The next time Vanity's life was in danger, Painter mentally groused, he would certainly be sure to smurf the prima donna to his mort. A sharp peck to his hand - er, paw- enforced this mindset, oh did it ever. Vanity had taken it just as well as expected, though that didn't soften the blows Painter received. Not that many, if any, physical hits had been smurfed, but the verbal jabs were rapide and sharp. And very, very numerous. Painter had been called various names, insulted in both English and his own language, and just full out yelled at about everything under the sun and the moon. Vanity had a very enthousiaste temper when provoked and, in his eyes, he had been provoked. In fact, Vanity was still going at a rapid pace, words almost garbled by emotion. Frustration radiated off of the narcissist, to the point that Painter considered it a near miracle that he had only been pecked once. The weather was no help to either of them, only giving Vanity more to rant about and making Painter soaked by the frozen water and chilled by the icy winds. In fact, Vanity seemed to be none too far from smurfing in the same miserable boat as he, the weather also affecting him.
The ongoing storm only got worse and worse as Vanity continued, lightning striking more and more and the fog getting colder and thicker. Only a bolt of lightning smurfing a tree right next to them got Vanity to pause, and Painter took advantage of the silence to grab his indignant ami as best he could and run like heck from the now déchaîné fire that tried to prevail against the water. The scariest part was that it was actually succeeding with its defiance and spreading down the tree, slowing slightly only when it reached the most waterlogged parts of the trunk. The fire was so bright that its lumière was evident and managed to burn through the nearby fog even after Painter had covered a good few yards. An angry and sharp peck from Vanity got him to quickly let go and smurf a few steps away from the irritable fowl. Saving Vanity didn't seem to end up well for either of them, why did he have to keep smurfing like that?
The winds suddenly became very sharp, and the combined forces of nature snuffed out the fire, leaving them almost completely in the sombre. There were so many clouds and so much fog that it was hard to smurf if it was noon of night, neither of which one could easily assume or guess. The red eyed demon could be right behind them and they would never even know it. In fact, they probably wouldn't be able to smurf unless the thing was on top of them. Smurfy thought.
Vanity was annoyed, exhausted, confused, but most importantly, enraged. Oh, he was seething. He, the most beautiful and charming of Smurfs, a bird? Not that he was any regular bird or an unpleasant one, but still. It was a smurf to his pride and to his image, one he did not like nor appreciate. To add insult to injury, he woke up to find himself in the presence of a traitor. The urge to peck out Painter's eyes in a vicious and not at all dignified matter was shockingly large and hard to deny. After all, the turncoat had been of no help during Vanity's brief little isolation, even ignoring him at various points when Vanity wanted to vent at someone. Being smurfed twice in a row by said backstabber did help ease his fury, if only a little. Besides, the water was starting to get under his feathers and it was very cold. The sort of cold that just sort of took the energy right out of a person and made them incredibly tired. If they could get shelter first, then Vanity could finish smurfing at Painter.
The forest itself sounded like it was alive, but not in a good way. From what he understood, any of the animal noises they heard could be from someone they knew. Vanity shuddered at the thought, the bleats of deer and roars of bears sounding terrifying in such a context. The village had supposedly been chaos, as Painter slowly and meekly explained while they smurfed for shelter. He seemed sufficiently shamed of his actions, much to Vanity's admittedly twisted pleasure. After all, guilting someone did no good if they didn't care about what they had done. Then again, it seemed he'd gotten the point. Not that Painter was off the hook yet, because he wasn't. Lightning continued to strike around them as they searched, each flash making Vanity jump or look around wildly. Storms could be dreadfully horrifying, especially with nothing to protect oneself from them or the aftereffects. The ground, for example, was incredibly soft and far too easy to slip in.
Painter was very quick on his feet, as was Vanity, but his tail continued to get stuck or caught, much to Vanity's exasperation and consternation. Painter himself did not seem pleased in the slightest with these constant events, yet they continued to happen. Vanity was an emotional creature, and his nerves were already frayed. This was not smurfing anything. He knew snapping at Painter wouldn't help either of them, but being rational was not exactly his strong suit. Painters tail getting enveloped by the sandy mud for the sixth time was the last straw, and Vanity started to see red. He could practically feel the steam coming out of his ears- or whatever the bird equivalent was, anyway.
"Can't you smurf that infernal thing out of the filth?!" It was obvious bait, but Painter's nerves were also too frazzled for him to care. He rose to it just as Vanity had hoped he would.
"My apologizes, votre Majesté. Can you, possibly, smurf your insupportable beak shut?!" The two stopped walking and quite literally turned on one another. Neither cared about the storm or the danger it presented to both of them. Painter snarled and smurfed his pointy teeth while Vanity scratched angrily at the ground with his sharp talons.
"Me?! My beak, shut?" Vanity's voice was an equal mix of indignant and outraged.
"Of course, zat iz probably too hard for Mr. Bavard, izn't eet?" Painter's tone was definitely condescending.
"That's rich. One of us is a confirmed traitor, and it isn't me." Vanity's jab was sharp, well timed, and hurt. "After all, I'm not the rat." Ouch.
The fog and bog were still there, much to Farmer's irritation. In fact, the fog seemed thicker. However, he was alive. He was actually breathing and apparently not in the clutches of the whatsit, thank Smurf. Farmer also found himself to be on harder ground that apparently wasn't inclined to smurf him up and suffocate him. How had he gotten there, though? He certainly hadn't dragged himself out. Farmer also doubted that whatever it had been that had yanked him down decided to just throw him back. It occurred to him when he tried to get back up and hack the mud from his lungs that he was not alone. Before him was his apparent savior, Wooly. This was confusing. The last time Farmer had seen Wooly, he had been quickly smurfing away into the fog and out of sight for no explainable reason. Now all of a sudden he was right beside him and more or less lucid. If Farmer was right, Wooly had also somehow pulled him out of the mud.
"Ya alright?" Farmer was going to kill him. Was he alright? Really?! What in the world… Did he even realize what he was asking and who to?
"Jest Smurfy." This got a blank stare. Great. Wooly was going to play stupid, now of all times? Jokey had a better sense of timing. Jokey! "Mind tellin' mah why earlier ya ran on mah like a chicken with yer head cut off?" Now he seemed confused and nervous. Smurfing fantastic. "Well?"
"Ah don't follow." Of course he didn't. Fine, that's how he wanted it? Two could play at that game. Farmer finally gave up on trying to stand and instead stared up at the goat.
"We were here, what, jest a bit ago? Ah fell, ya were a git, and then ya bolted and left me to sink and almost die in mud. Am Ah smurfin' any bells here?" Wooly backed up a bit and shook his head, eyes fogging up again. Panic seized Farmer and he instantly regretted the words. Whatever had happened to Wooly, they did NOT need a repeat of the incident. Trouble was, it seemed like they were definitely heading for it. "Ferget it. Ah'm losing mah mind. Yer probably someone else."
"Right." Wooly, and Farmer was still pretty sure it was him, still seemed out of it, but his eyes cleared up a good deal at these words. Whatever was happening, it was smurfing his memory and even his brain. Hmmm… How was Farmer going to get him to remember? Could he even do it? "Anyhow, the name's… Uh…" Great, his eyes were glassing over again. Fantastic.
"Ah'm Farmer, nice ta meet ya." It was probably best not to let Wooly dwell on anything that made him react that way. He tried, foolishly, to get back up. As he expected, Farmer smurfed right back onto the ground, much to Wooly's confusion.
"Say, ya alright?" Stupid question, even if Farmer probably deserved that for trying something so stupid what with having almost just drowned in mud. Nevertheless, he sent up a glare at Wooly and grumbled a bit under his breath.
"Oh, sure. Ah like fallin' ta the ground. Ah do it all the time." What really got him was how Wooly just sort of nodded his head at that like the sarcasm had flown right over it. Something was definitely up. Before Farmer could get to finding just what, he was interrupted when a dog came rushing over and likewise landing face down in the grime.
Clumsy had thought he had been heading for the village, so how in the world he had ended up in a bog of all places was beyond him. Then again, most things were. It was weird, how the whole thing was a veritable wreck, but he supposed all the weather had been smurfing havoc on the forest and that the bog certainly wouldn't be any better off. Bogs normally were a wreck anyway, weren't they? There was something Clumsy knew bogs didn't normally have, though, and that was a goat and a donkey just side by side in the gooey dirt. The donkey was lying down in the slop while the goat stood beside him, and each stared at him and then back at each other and then at him again. His pawed at some of the mud still stuck to his fur, unsure of what to do. It had been embarrassing enough tumbling down into the grit when he had thought there was no one else around to see him. It didn't help that these two seemed equally stunned and unsure.
Then the goat slowly started walking towards him and Clumsy had the weird notion to run away as fast as he could back where he had come from. The goat didn't seem like it wanted to hurt him though, which was nice, but Clumsy didn't know if that still meant things were safe. He didn't know how to read goat body language, after all. Then it stopped right in front of him, big sharp horns looking even more dangerous up close.
"Are ya okay?" He wasn't expecting the question, even if he did really appreciate it. He backed up a little bit more, slightly wary of the gentle voiced yet very menacing goat, and hesitated before answering.
"Ah smurf so." Then the goat's eyes got funny and seemed to spin slightly, making Clumsy back up a good deal more in fear that those horns would end up in him. It staggered a bit to the left and then a mite to the right, and then its hooves scraped against the mud. The donkey more or less limped over at a very rapid pace after he spoke, its eyes looking far more normal than the goat's were.
"Clumsy?" He tumbled right on back face first into the dirt, ears ringing at the word. They knew him! The donkey actually knew his name. Or… Or maybe it was just asking if he was normally such a klutz. Which he was, but that possibility was rather saddening and maddening compared to the first which made everything light up and seem ten times better. So, operating on a hope Clumsy prayed wasn't faulty, he racked off a number of Smurfs who he knew who had a voice like that. That was, a voice like his. The answer smurfed him like the ground to his face.
"Farmer?" Please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong, please don't be wrong…The donkey rushed, rather limped really quickly, over and did the animal equivalent of a hug. A thousand hard rocks were lifted of Clumsy's shoulders in that moment, and a hundred more were lifted off again and again when he realized he wasn't alone. It had been awful terrifying, the small amount of time when he didn't have Puppy or anyone and was more or less wandering the chilly as well as foggy forest on his own. The rain, lighting, and thunder hadn't helped either.
Farmer meanwhile was equally relieved, head pounding and body shaking. He almost laughed, so happy and pleased and grateful. Wooly, however, soon reminded him of the other's presence by moaning and stumbling and making noises worthy of a demonic Azrael. Farmer quickly moved over to try and talk to him again, get him to smurf down a bit. Wooly's eyes, however, when he looked back up were no longer that smurfy blue. No, they were deranged, and more importantly, red.
"Then why should I look?" Papa Smurf asked, mentally weighing and reweighing his choices and their respective consequences.
"Oh, I didn't say you should." The monster chuckled its raspy chuckle. "Only that you could. After all…" It was smiling, he just knew it. "If you don't want to, that's perfectly fine. Aren't you wondering, though, curious about what's going on right now outside that very door?" Papa Smurf didn't reply. He was honestly between a smurf and a hard place.
"Maybe I am and maybe I'm not." It was best to reply to such piercing questions with riddles.
"Very well. Just in case, I'd hate to keep you guessing. Why, I'm such a good sport I'll tell you right now some of the various things your children have become. I might be lying and I might not be, but you'll never know for certain unless you open that door." He didn't say a word but only turned his head so as not to look at the red eyes of the demon. "You're daughter, the one with the golden hair? She is now a black deer, most likely some hunter's dinner." He shut his eyes tight and tried not to tremble. "You already know what some of them were going to become, correct?" This time he answered.
"Y-yes." Smurf his trembling voice.
"Well then, I just want you to know you were probably right. The innocent sickly one? A rabbit." Cue more gritting. "The flighty doctor? A chameleon. The short sighted loudmouth? A bat. The talkative reporter? A parrot." His teeth were going to smurf into two any minute now. "The strong musclebound worker? A horse. The greedy cook? A bear. The naive creative inventor?" Now Papa Smurf trembled. "A human." Oh yes, he definitely shook.
"No." None of them could have transformed. They were simply lost or hurt or… Who was he smurfing?
"That bothers you, doesn't it? That you couldn't save them, were forced to sit aside and twiddle your thumbs while they were transformed against their will, into forms they deserve." Papa Smurf wanted to turn around and strangle the creature, even if the action certainly wasn't peaceful. "The fact that one of them deserved to be turned into a human, a species that represents all the vices and evil in the world to you is just infuriating, I bet. Don't lie; I managed to overhear a thing or two about how you're not supposed to act like humans and all that. Funny how your child, one of your own, turned out to be just like one of them." Now Papa Smurf did turn around and lunge for the creature the way it did so many times at its victims. It simply dodged it and laughed, frustratingly amused. "Really? Did you honestly think you could harm me?"
"It was worth a smurf."It laughed even louder.
"I haven't even begun to describe the other ones, those that were infected while you were in here trying to delude yourself that there was possibly a cure or some such nonsense. For example, the fussy gossip? A peacock. The spunky little redhead? A fox." It was just taunting him. None of this could be true; it had to have been lying. He was a simple toy for it to smurf with, but he wasn't going to play that twisted game. "The nature child? A raccoon. The temperamental crafty painter? A rat." It was getting very hard not to want to play, however, to make it admit that none of its lies were true. "The stupid klutz? A dog. Need I go on? I have almost a hundred different sources to choose. The sea fairing adventurer? A merman. The-" It was cut off by Papa Smurf's angry yell.
"Stop!" It complied, surprisingly. "Why the mind games? Isn't the pain you've already smurfed enough?" The cursed monstrosity just laughed and laughed, now seeming genuinely amused instead of condescending.
"You stole my child away from me and yet you have the gall to ask that?" It laughed long and hard, voice hysterical. "Oh no, it will never be enough. However, who said I was using mind games? I'm just telling you the truth, which you can validate with just one look out the door. The choice is really yours whether this is a mind game or not."