Gretchen and Patch

Gretchen couldn't believe this. Nothing like this had ever happened to her in all of her years of hunting, and she actually had no idea how to react.

She hated how completely helpless she felt. She always knew exactly what to do, no matter what life threw at her, but this was a different story. To make matters worse, she never took her Alert System out on hunts. It was too distracting, and if it made any noise it would scare away the piñatas!

So all poor Gretchen could do was sit there and look at her profusely bleeding leg.

She had been unfortunate enough to have stepped into a concealed Fizzlybear trap. It had clamped around her leg and unbelievable pain wracked her body. She actually screamed (which she still couldn't believe) and had fallen into a heap on the ground. Where the hell did the trap come from? She hadn't set it; she knew exactly where she placed all of her traps, and she preferred to use nets or tranquilizers. She didn't like to hurt the piñatas she was hunting.

The trap-setter must have been a local gardener who didn't want to shell out the chocolate cash to get a proper hunting job done, or maybe it was that new huntress in the neighboring village. She rubbed Gretchen the wrong way from the moment she saw her; if the new huntress was behind this, Gretchen would have to teach her a lesson!

Gretchen hadn't gone completely soft in her pain, though. She had managed to pry the trap off of her leg, but that just made the blood come faster. She attempted to stagger to her feet, but her hurt leg wobbled and she fell right to the ground again. Great, now she had to deal with bloodstains and grass stains later…

Gretchen had started to crawl along the forest floor, slowly but surely. She was Gretchen Fetchem, she wasn't just going to sit there and bleed out! She had to get herself to safety…

She heard the sound of something in the distance. Had she been in proper physical condition, she would have concealed herself in a bush or behind a tree as soon as she heard the noise. She hoped it wasn't some kind of big piñata; she really, really wasn't up to fight off anything fierce right now.

A bright red car rolled into Gretchen's sights and the swirling eyes of her masks narrowed.

Oh, it was the exact opposite of a fierce piñata. It was Doc Patchingo.

Even if Gretchen thought the stuttering, docile Patch was a sorry excuse for a man, he was still a doctor, and he could help her!

Patch skidded to a stop as soon as he saw Gretchen lying on the forest floor. "Ah-are you okay?" Patch practically leapt out of his car, med kit in hand, and rushed to Gretchen's side.

"No," Gretchen hissed. "I'm just lying on the ground because I felt like it."

Patch blushed and started to turn around, but Gretchen slammed a palm into her mask's forehead and added: "That was sarcasm."

Patch knelt down next to Gretchen, his face burning all the more. Gretchen never got sick, so he rarely spoke to her. He didn't feel the slightest bit comfortable around her; she was…unique-looking. Her mask was enormous and intimidating, but her body was beautiful. Patch had to do his best not to stare as Gretchen sat up and splayed her injured leg out in front of her.

"Fizzlybear trap," Gretchen stated, averting her eyes. She was ashamed to be seen in a moment of weakness. "Didn't see it coming."

"D-d-don't worry, Miss Fetchem, it's an easy f-f-fix…" Patch reached into his doctor's bag and started to disinfect the wound.

Gretchen didn't even flinch despite the stinging sensation. Patch was impressed; this woman had some incredible resolve! Petula had gotten awfully scratched up from a renegade Kittyfloss, and when he had disinfected her wounds, she had actually bawled like a baby.

Patch finished quickly and bandaged her up, wrapping the gauze tightly to stop the bleeding. "Th-that's all there is to it! C-c-can you walk, Miss Fetchem?"

"…No," Gretchen admitted, still not looking Patch in the eye. Patch responded by reaching around her and helping her to her feet, supporting her on his shoulder.

"I-I'll help you get b-b-back to town," Patch smiled and hoped Gretchen couldn't notice how much he was blushing.

"What about your car?" Gretchen glanced at the tiny red vehicle. "If you could call it that…"

"O-oh, I'll just…c-come back for it later. We can't both fit…" Patch started to walk slowly along, shifting Gretchen a bit so she could get better support from him.

"…Thank you, Doctor," Gretchen finally made eye contact with him, a small smile lifting at the corners of her mouth. "I owe you one."

"N-no, this one's on me…" Patch shook his head. "I n-never treated you b-before, and my first customer is always free!"

"That's sweet…" Gretchen admitted and she actually felt Patch's entire body heat up.

Being called 'sweet' by one of the most sought after women in town…Patch would have to try very, very hard not to brag about that one! He was more than happy he was able to help her, but he felt like he was forgetting something…

The sick family of Pretztails that Patch was on the way to cure all died at the hands of Dastardos that evening.