Shampoo sighed as she sat on the porch of the Cat Cafe. The news had come today - news that broke her heart into a thousand pieces. Shampoo should have known this would happen eventually, yet deep in her heart she didn't want to believe it. Yet there it was, on the small slip of paper in her clenched hand. The invitation to the wedding of Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo. Despite how desperately she tried to proclaim her love for Ranma, and follow her tribal laws to marry her rightful bride-groom, it was all for nothing. Shampoo had done everything in her power - even things that she was ashamed to admit - to uphold her honor as an Amazon, and marry the man who defeated her in combat. It was the Amazon law, after all, and upholding those laws was the most important thing a warrior could do. Yet now it could never be.
Shampoo was tired of this. Tired of trying to shove herself into Ranma's life when he clearly wanted to be with Akane. Cologne had said that this invitation was only a minor setback, and that Ranma would still be her husband...yet for Shampoo, it just made her want to give up entirely. Her tribal laws were absolute, but the truth was, she cared deeply about Ranma, and he loved Akane. No matter how hard she tried to force herself to be Ranma's wife, his heart would always belong to Akane. No matter how important the tribal laws were, Shampoo didn't want to force Ranma to marry a woman he didn't love. It was not the Amazon way, yet what did that matter now? She had tried her best, and that was all she could do. Sitting back and watching Ranma marry Akane was too much to bear.
Shampoo had decided that now, after all this time, she wanted to go back to her homeland. Not just go back. Take a long journey back. Perhaps spending time alone amognst those familiar mountains and hills would provide some peace to her soul. She felt no reason left to stay in Japan, and could not face her great-grandmother with her decision. The last time Shampoo had gone against the Amazon laws, she had battled Cologne and fallen into the cursed spring of the drowned cat. Facing such wrath again would not do her any good now.
And so it was, Shampoo decided, to leave a note for her great-grandmother. She wrote in her own native language this time, that she was going to take the long journey back to China, and give herself a chance to find whatever inner peace was possible now. It didn't even occur to her to say good-bye to Mousse. Why would it matter anyway? For Mousse, having Ranma out of the way would be a victory. It made her feel bitter that her loss would become his achievement.
And so one morning, Shampoo left the note for Cologne, grabbed her large pack, and said goodbye to Nermia - a place she had called home for so long now, where she had arrived with such hope in her heart, and now left with heartbreak. Shampoo shouldered her bag, and went on.
At daybreak, Mousse came down the stairs as usual, searching for his beloved Shampoo to greet her good morning. Yet she was nowhere to be found. It was not unusual for Shampoo to disappear to the Tendo home at any strange hour, yet this time Mousse sensed something was different. It felt as if his beloved was gone - gone gone. He couldn't shake the feeling off.
Mousse entered the kitchen where Cologne sat on her staff, a solemn expression on her face. Mousse immediately knew all was not right, and noticed the paper clutched in Cologne's small hand.
"Cologne?" said Mousse "Have you seen Shampoo? I can't find her anywhere."
Cologne shook her head. "Nor will you, duck-boy. For she has left."
"What? Left?" exclaimed Mousse. "What are you talking about?"
"She left this note for me this morning. She has decided to take the long way back to China. I believe she thinks that by taking such a trip through the back-country, she will find some inner peace in regards to the marriage of Ranma and Akane.
Mousse stared at Cologne with unbelieving eyes. Shampoo hadn't even said goodbye to him. Yet he brushed it off. "But Cologne, doesn't Shampoo know how risky it is to travel like that alone at this time of year?"
Cologne nodded. "Indeed, Mousse. Yet I don't think she cares about the risk. She is heartbroken, you see, and her judgement is far from good right now. I will leave as quickly as possible to go back to our village, in hopes to meet her there when she arrives. I expect you to look after the restaurant until then."
"But...but what about Shampoo?" shouted Mousse in desperation. "She shouldn't be out there all alone! Anything could happen to her!"
"I am well aware, Mousse. But it would be impossible to track her down now. She could be far across the sea to China now, and there are any number of ways she could get back through those hills. She's a member of our tribe, and knows those mountains well." said Cologne.
Mousse sighed, unable to refuse the order from his village leader. Yet Mousse could remember the stories from their childhood - dangerous animals lived in those hills. Sure, perhaps they were just stories told to keep children quiet, but Mousse felt fear stab his heart at the thought of Shampoo travelling alone and potentially running into danger.
"I will be leaving shortly, Mousse. You will do what I say. I will send a message to you when Shampoo returns, and hopefully she'll be convinced to come back here, and uphold our laws and marry her bride-groom."
Mousse grumbled as Cologne prepared to leave for China. Once she left, Mousse was left alone in the quiet restaurant. He ran through his thoughts over and over, and his mind was made up for him. He grabbed his robes and a large bag, and headed out the door. There wasn't a moment to waste if he was going to have a chance at trailing Shampoo through the forests of China.
Shampoo had wandered through the dense forests for several days now, following old familiar paths to the home of the Amazons, finally reaching the boundaries of her homeland. She savored the familiar scents of the wildflowers, redbuds, pawpaws, and dogwoods drifting on the wind currents. She stopped to caress the cool white bark of a sycamore tree. Although living in Japan was wonderful, it felt good to be home. Despite her sorrows over Ranma's marriage, the familiar sights and sounds lifted her spirits. She wasn't scared of the darkness or the mountains, for she was raised in these mountains. It was the land of her people.
Shampoo had crossed one of the last mountain peaks before she would reach the village. The long journey through the quiet hills had helped her tremendously. It was dark now, a big grinning China moon had the countryside bathed in a soft yellow glow. The starlit heaven reminded her of a large blue umbrella, outspread and with the handle broken off. Shampoo knew it was more dangerous to travel at night, but she could not sleep despite trying, and knew that the sooner she got back to her native home, the better things would be.
As Shampoo walked past a giant, old tree, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had heard some sort of noise, and not just that of a small creature rustling in the brush. Shampoo had a feeling deep in her chest that she was being watched. She tried to shrug off the feeling and keep walking, but she heard the deep noise again, and froze.
"Nihao?" spoke Shampoo in her native tongue, but her own voice echoed back into the darkness. Deep inside her gut, she knew something was wrong. Shampoo was a trained warrior, and knew when she was being watched. Shampoo tightened her grip on the handle of her lantern. Slowly she started walking toward away from the large tree. She kept her eyes on the tree as she edged forward. Then she saw them—two burning, yellow eyes—staring at her from the shadowy foliage of the tree. She stopped, petrified with fear, staring back at the unblinking eyes.
Shampoo could make out the bulk of a large animal, crouched on a huge branch, close to the trunk of the big tree. Then it moved. She heard the scratch of razor-sharp claws on the bark. It stood up and moved out of the shadows on to the limb. Shampoo saw it clearly as it passed between the moon and herself. Shampoo knew what it was, even though she had never seen it before. It was the devil cat of China, the demon mountain lion of her tribe's lore. Shampoo knew that she was in terrible danger, and had to get away, and fast.
There was a low cough and a deep growl from the lion. Shampoo saw him crouch, and knew what was coming. It was too late to escape now. She had heard legends of the demon creatures in the mountains, yet her gut told her that in this moment, they were more than just legends. Her hands felt hot and sweaty as she prepared a martial arts stance. With a blood-curdling scream the devil sprang from the tree with claws outspread and long, yellow fangs bared.
Shampoo's fist hit the demon cat straight between brows. His yellow slitted eyes burned with hate. The long, lithe body dipped low to the ground. The shoulder muscles knotted and bulged with the most terrifying sound Shampoo had ever heard. Shampoo tried to jump back but her foot slipped and she dropped to her knees. The demon was too fast, and she knew she was trapped. With another terrifying scream the demon sprang. Shampoo braced herself for death.
Shampoo didn't die, although for a second she was convinced she had. Shampoo never saw Mousse when he got between the lion and her, but out of nowhere, there he was. Mousse sailed straight into those jaws of death, his body taking the ripping, slashing claws meant for her. Mousse met the lion in the air. The heavy weight bowled him over and over. He wound up in a fallen treetop. For in his veins flowed the blood of an Amazon warrior. In his fighting heart, there was no fear. The impact of the two bodies threw the lion off balance. Mousse rose up and attacked again. His aim was true. Shampoo heard the snap of steel-trap jaws as they closed on the monster's throat.
The silence was shattered by one long, loud roar. She'd never heard anyone, not man or woman, make a noise like that. No, this was different. Mousse's voice rang out over the mountains, loud and clear. The vibration of the deep tones rolled in the silence of the frosty night, on and on, out over the flats, down in the canyons, and died away in the rimrocks, like the cry of a lost soul. Mousse had voiced his challenge to the devil cat.
With a squall of pain and rage, the big cat rolled over on his side, dragging Mousse with him. It's right paw reached out and curved over Mousse's shoulder. Sinews tightened and razor-sharp claws dug inward. With a cry of pain, Mousse loosened his hold. Shampoo saw the blood squirting from the deep wound in his shoulder. Mousse ignored it and bored back into the fight. Bawling the cry of the damned, he charged back in, flinging every weapon in his arsenal.
The sight of Mousse fighting burned her blood. The devil cat would not back down, charging for Mousse with it's vicious claws, slashing him with every chance it got. Shampoo went berserk, and charged into the in the flinty hills of the mountains, Shampoo and Mousse fought for their lives. Shampoo fought with the only weapon she had - the arms and legs of an Amazon warrior.
Shampoo screamed and charged, swinging her fists, but they were no use against the powerful hide of the devil cat. Shampoo saw a glint of metal out of the corner of her eye - one of Mousse's dropped blades. She grabbed it, hacking in every direction without mercy.
The battle raged on and on, down the side of the mountain, over huckleberry bushes, fallen logs, and rocks. It was a rolling, tumbling mass of fighting fury. Shampoo was in the middle of it all, falling, screaming, crying and hacking away at every opportunity as Mousse's weapons flew past, each one broken free by the powerful creature's jaws. Screaming like a madwoman, with tears running down her face, Shampoo hacked and chopped at the big snarling mountain cat.
Shampoo had cut the big cat several times. Blood showed red on the edge of her blade, but as yet she had not gotten in the fatal lick. Shampoo knew it had to be soon she and Mousse were no match against the razor-sharp claws and the long, yellow fangs of the demon creature. The screams of the big cat and the deep bellowing voice of Mousse echoed through the mountains as the demon of hell turned loose. Down the side of the mountain, the terrible fight went on, down to the very bottom of the canyon.
In a flash, the big cat had Mousse by the neck. Shampoo knew it was seeking to cut the all-important vein within. At Mousse's cry of pain, Shampoo lunged, throwing caution to the wind, ran in and sank her weapon in the lion's tough hide. If this had been a normal mountain lion, the blow would have been fatal - but this demon barely flinched at the strike.
With her feet digging into the mountain soil, she braced herself, and started pulling. The muscles in her small legs knotted and quivered. She was trying hard to pull the devil cat's fangs from the throat of Mousse. In the rays of a bright mountain moon, Shampoo could see clearly. For an instant she saw the broad back of the big cat, the knotty bulge of steel-bound muscle, the piston-like jerk of the deadly hind claws, trying for the downward stroke that could disembowel even the most powerful of creatures.
Raising the blade high over her head, Shampoo brought it down with all the strength in her body. Her aim was true. Behind the shoulders, in the broad muscular back, the heavy blade sank with a sickening sound. The keen edge cleaved through the tough skin. It seemed to hiss as it sliced its way through bone and gristle. Shampoo left the blade where it was, sunk to the eye in the back of the devil cat.
The demon loosened it's hold on the throat of Mousse. With a scream of pain, it reared up on it's hind legs and started pawing the air. Mousse, spewing blood from a dozen wounds, leaped high in the air. His body sailed in between the outspread paws of the lion. She heard the snap of his powerful weapon as it closed on the cat's throat.
The big cat screamed again. Blood gurgled and sprayed. In a bright red mist, it rained out over the underbrush and rattled like sleet on the white oak leaves. In a boxer's stance, he stood and clawed the air. It's slitted eyes turned green with hate. Shampoo stood in a trance and stared back at the ghastly scene. The breath of life was slowly leaving the demon. It was dying on it's feet but refusing to go down. Shampoo's blade stuck straight out from it's back. Blood, gushing from the mortal wound, glistened in the moonlight. A shudder ran through it's body. It tried once again to scream. Blood gurgled in it's throat.
It was the end of the trail for the scourge of the mountains. No more would he scream his challenge from the rimrocks to the valley below. The Amazon tribe would be safe from it's silent stalk. The large body fell toward Shampoo. It seemed that with it's last effort it was still trying to get at her. As the heavy body struck the ground, something exploded in Shampoo's head. She knew no more.
When Shampoo came to, she was sitting down. It was silent and still. A bird, disturbed by the fight, started chirping far up on the side of the mountain. A small winter breeze rustled some dead leaves in the deep canyon. A cold, crawling chill crept over her body. Shampoo looked over at the lion. In it's dying convulsions the blade had become dislodged from the wound. It lay there in the moonlight, covered with blood.
Shampoo's numb brain started working. She realized in horror that she didn't know where Mousse was. She got to her feet in panic to look for him. She knew she had to inspect to see how badly he was hurt, but first examined her own body. She was cut in several places, but nothing fatal. The only bad wound she had was in her shoulder. It was long and down to the clean, white bone.
Shampoo hadn't gone far when she heard a terrible, agonizing cry. She stood still and listened. The cry came again, low and pitiful. Shampoo followed as fast as she could run. Shampoo found Mousse lying on his side, pleading for help. What she saw was almost more than she could stand. There, tangled in the low branches of a huckleberry bush, were the entrails of poor Mousse. With a gasping cry she knelt down by his side.
Shampoo knew what had happened. Far back in the soft belly, the slashing, razor-sharp claws of the lion had cut into the hollow. His entrails had worked out and had become entangled in the bush. The forward motion of his body had done the rest. He cried out in agony and pain, unable to form words as Shampoo knelt next to him, laying a trembling hand on his head. With tears in her eyes, Shampoo started talking to him.
"Hang on, Mousse," she said. "Everything will be all right. Shampoo take care of you."
With one hand she started examining the rest of poor Mousse. Shampoo ran her fingers under his tattered robes. She could feel the quivering muscles and the hot, sweaty skin. He was a bloody mess. His long robes were completely blood-soaked and shredded. His entire body was a mass of deep, raw, red wounds. On both sides of his rib carriage, the sharp claws had laid the flesh open to the bone. His face was pitiful to see, his glasses long gone. A razor-sharp claw had ripped down on an angle across his right eye. It was swollen shut. Shampoo knew he would never see from that eye again.
Blood dripped from his wounds and fell on the white oak leaves. Shampoo realized in horror that he was bleeding to death. With tears running down her cheeks, she did the only thing she could do. She raked the leaves away and let his blood drip on the black mountain soil. Mixing it into a mud, she worked it into his wounds to stop the flow of blood. With trembling hands, Shampoo unwound the entrails from the bush, Mousse's cries of agony shattering her to the very core, causing him to eventually pass out. She tore a piece of her shirt off, and wiped away the gravel, leaves, and pine needles. With fingers that shook, she worked the entrails back into the wound.
Not knowing exactly where she was, Shampoo looked down out of the mountains to get her bearings. Beyond the foothills and fields she could see the long, white, crooked line of steam, marking the river's course. Following the snakelike pattern with her eyes, in no time she knew exactly where she was, for she knew every bend in the river. Shampoo delicately picked up Mousse's mangled, shivering body. She wasn't sure if he was even conscious anymore. She knew that if it hadn't been for Mousse, she would have probably been killed by the slashing claws of the devil cat. She held his body close and ran as fast as her legs would take her.
"Shampoo..." Mousse's weak voice spoke, and she looked down into his face. She could see how much pain he was in, and how afraid he was.
"Shampoo have you, Mousse." Shampoo said, trying to hide her fear for her friend. She kept moving, holding his tattered body against her, unable to stop the blood from flooding out of his wounds.
"Shampoo...am I going to die?" Mousse replied even weaker. Shampoo gulped, unable to respond for a moment. In all her years together with Mousse, she had never heard such fear in his voice as she did right then.
Shampoo found her courage, and responded to Mousse in Mandarin. "I won't let anything happen to you, Mousse. I promise," said Shampoo. She took a deep breath, gazing at the man who had saved her life. "Mousse...you saved my life," she said, trying to hold back tears. "I don't know how I'll ever pay you back for what you've done," Shampoo said, "But I'll never forget it."
Shampoo ran so fast and hard it felt as if her chest would explode. She ran through the moonlight towards the Amazon village. It felt as if her legs were not carrying her any distance at all, and time seemed to stand still. She prayed for a sign of the tribe, for it was Mousse's only chance. She had to hurry.
Cologne was awoken by the sound of her front door opening with extreme force. She hopped out of bed with her staff, expecting to see Shampoo - yet what she saw instead shook her to her very core more than anything in her 300 years. There stood Shampoo, holding in her arms a bloody, severed mess. Blood dripped onto the floor, leaving a trail from the door. Shampoo was panicked, explaining a mile a minute what had happened between her and the demon cat. It was only then Cologne realized the mangled pile of bleeding flesh was the body of Mousse. Shampoo lay him on the treatment table, and the man groaned in severe pain, crying out in absolute agony.
Cologne came to Mousse, and peeled off his blood-soaked clothes. Shampoo could tell from the look on Cologne's face that things were bad. Very bad.
"Oh heavens..." whispered Cologne with tangible fear as she unveiled Mousse's terrible wounds, gasping in horror at the sight. In all her years as the leader of her tribe, Cologne had never seen anything like this. The poor boy was torn to pieces. There was no time to ask questions now. Very gently Cologne worked the entrails out and in a pan of warm soapy water, washed them clean of the pine needles, leaves, and grit. With gentle hands, she worked the entrails back through the opening. The wound was sewn up and bandaged with a clean white cloth. Cologne continued to work on Mousse's other wounds, and Shampoo could see on her great-grandmother's expression that things were not going well.
"Mousse...Mousse hurt bad, great-grandmother..." Cologne simply gave a mournful nod and Shampoo could only look on as her friend lay on the treatment table fighting for his life.
"The way Mousse is injured," Cologne said, "I can't believe he's still alive. That devil cat has killed many of our tribe, Shampoo. It must have been a terrible fight."
"It was, great-grandmother," Shampoo said. "If it hadn't been for Mousse, Shampoo would not be here now," Shampoo fought back a sob as she spoke. "Great-grandmother...Mousse fought like a true Amazon warrior. Cat try to get to Shampoo, but Mousse throw himself instead," Shampoo sobbed. "Mousse give his life for Shampoo."
Glancing at Shampoo, Cologne said, "It's in his heart, Shampoo. He's an Amazon, just like you and me. He only has two loves—you and his art. That's all he knows."
"Do...do you think he'll die, great-grandmother?" Shampoo asked, hoping perhaps Cologne would not tell her what she deeply feared.
"I don't know, great-granddaughter," Cologne said, shaking her head. "He's lost an awful lot of blood, and he's torn to pieces. He's a mighty sick man. All we can do now is wait and see."
Shampoo knelt down and laid Mousse's head in her lap. She ran her fingers over his cheek. His skin felt cold and lifeless to her touch. To her shock, Mousse's eyes opened to small slits, and Shampoo could see the fear behind them. Mousse must have known he was dying. In his weakened voice, he spoke to her.
"Shampoo..." he whispered weakly. The brightness was gone from his affectionate eyes. His face once so full of spirit was now full of suffering. Shampoo tried to comfort him. She wanted him to know he wasn't alone.
"Please don't die, Mousse," she said. "Don't leave Shampoo now."
"Good-bye, my beloved Shampoo," Mousse whispered with trembling weakness. "I love you. You are the only friend I've ever had."
Shampoo held Mousse's body his breathing grew faster and faster, and there was a terrible rattling in his throat. She looked to Cologne for help. Her face was as white as the bark on a sycamore tree and the hurt in her eyes tore at her heart, and in that gaze, Shampoo knew. Mousse drew one last sigh, and his gentle turquoise eyes closed forever.
At first Shampoo couldn't believe Mousse was dead. She opened her mouth to say something but words wouldn't come out. Feeling as cold as an arctic wind, Shampoo got up and stumbled to a chair, sobbing as she curled her legs beneath her folded arms. Cologne came over and said something. Her words were only a murmur in Shampoo's ears.
Very gently Cologne placed a kind hand on Shampoo's shoulder. "We did all we could, great-granddaughter." Shampoo had never seen her great grandmother look so tired and weary as she did on that night. Shampoo knew Cologne wanted to comfort her, but didn't know what to say.
"There, there, Shampoo. I know it doesn't seem that way now, but it will be alright, in time. Only in time." Cologne spoke gently as she sewed together the gash on Shampoo's shoulder.
Speaking in her native tongue, Shampoo let her emotions loose. "How can I ever be alright again, great-grandmother?" Shampoo sobbed. "He gave his life for me, that's what he did—just laid down his life for me. How can I ever forget something like that?"
Long after Cologne had retired, Shampoo sat by the fire trying to think but couldn't. She felt numb all over. She knew Mousse was dead, but she couldn't believe it. She didn't want to. One day they were both alive. Then that night, just like that, one of them was dead. Shampoo stayed by Mousse's body into the night, still unable to accept the fact that he was gone.
Mousse...her childhood friend. They had grown up together, and Mousse had been a part of her life as long as she could remember. Shampoo gazed up at the moon longingly through the nearby window, pressed against the starry sky. He had always been there for her, whenever and wherever, no matter what. She'd taken it for granted, because he was always there. Now that he wasn't, she felt barren and empty.
Shampoo never realized it before...but Mousse was the only true friend she'd ever had. The grief was practically unbearable - how she had spurned him, treated him with such cruelty in pursuit of Ranma. Despite all this, his love for her was undeniable and true. Her kind, gentle Mousse - the man who had given his life so that she might live. Shampoo cried into the night until sleep finally found her. That night, she dreamed of him. She dreamed of what was, and dreamed of what might have been.
It had only been a short while when Shampoo was awoken by the sound of her great-grandmother. Cologne came out with her staff, a look of great sadness on her wrinkled face.
"Great-granddaughter...I must speak with you," said Cologne with utmost urgency. "It's about Mousse. I have gone through all of our tribal history, and have stumbled upon something long forgotten, even by me. There still may be a way to save him. It's a long shot at best. Perhaps even impossible. But it is the only way."
"How, great-grandmother?" Shampoo sobbed, remembering now that her friend was gone. "Mousse is dead. There's nothing we can do now. No one dead comes back. Not now, not ever."
"There may be one thing. Only one thing. I don't even know if it exists anymore, but it's our last chance to bring back Mousse before he's gone forever." said Cologne.
"Shampoo don't understand. What great-grandmother say impossible." said Shampoo
"You are likely aware that there are many legends in our tribe, that extend far beyond even our own small village. Many of the ancient treasures of lore were said to be created by the gods themselves. One such treasure in particular is what I am referring to. Long ago, it was said that the gods created a treasure to honor the life of one who gave it in place of another, to show mankind humility."
"Aiyah?" asked Shampoo. "You mean treasure can bring someone back to life? But that impossible! If not, everyone would be brought back to life! It not possible to be true!"
Cologne shook her head. "Not entirely. The gem I speak of has as specific requirement to work. You see, If a willing victim who had committed no treachery sacrificed themselves in another's stead, the jewel produces a force of immense power. So much so, that even death itself would begin to unwind." said Cologne.
"But great-grandmother, is just legend. You even say so." said Shampoo, her voice filled with sadness.
"Mousse gave his life for you, great-granddaughter. Legends are lessons - they ring with truth. If this object exists, Mousse's act of self-sacrifice would be what restored his life." said Cologne.
"But we not even know where treasure is!" Shampoo cried, her voice full of hopelessness.
Cologne continued. "I have only heard of one such gem left on this earth, passed down from generation to generation, for thousands and thousands of years," Cologne said, pulling a rolled fabric map from her shelf, unrolling it onto the table. "This map belonged to my mother's mother, and is far older even than that." she said, showing Shampoo the mountains on the ancient document.
"The treasure in question is said to be in the clutches of a great demon, far up in the mountains, even farther into the back country than we are," Cologne pointed to the shape of the mighty northern mountains, where the drawing of a beast lay next to what appeared to be a beautiful gem. "Your recent experiences can tell you the power of a demonic creature. Any who have tried to pursue said treasure have perished in their quest. It would be a perilous journey, Shampoo. Filled with danger, for something that may or may not even exist. You are an adult now, and I cannot stop you from going. All I can do is tell you what I know, and hope that by the grace of the gods, you'll make it there."
"Shampoo have to do it," Shampoo said, a new determination on her face. "Mousse sacrifice himself to save Shampoo. Shampoo could not call herself warrior of Amazon tribe if she not try. Shampoo have to."
"Very well, great-granddaughter," said Cologne. "There's another thing," Cologne continued, using her staff to draw in the dirt on the ground. "The power of the treasure is said to only bring the soul back to the body within 2 sunsets. By the time the moon waxes full, or it will be too late for Mousse, and he will be just as dead as he is now. You must leave at once. The stakes are high on this one, and I can't promise that you won't find failure in your wake."
"How Shampoo know for sure where treasure is, great-grandmother?" Shampoo asked. "What if Shampoo go in wrong place? What if find wrong treasure? Oh, great-grandmother...how Shampoo know for sure?"
"The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek," Cologne spoke wisely. "Follow what I say, and you will find what you are looking for."
Shampoo nodded at the wise words of her great-grandmother. Cologne reached for a large bowl of an oily black substance, and approached Mousse's cold body, using a thumb to press the oil onto his forehead and limbs.
"I cannot come with you, as I need to stay here to ensure Mousse's soul remains in this realm. I shall place these markings on Mousse's body to prevent his soul from crossing over, and to preserve his body until your journey is complete. That is the process of resurrection. You must not wait, great-granddaughter, for unless we have the treasure within the time, Mousse will be dead, and never to return."
Shampoo nodded at Cologne, and prepared herself a bag. According to the map, a large, wide river would lead where she needed to go - yet through unforgiving wilderness. Shampoo knew she had to prepare for bitter cold, vicious winds, and yet unforeseen enemies that lay between her and the salvation for Mousse. She grabbed her most expert weapon - her batons, and placed them on the sides of her bag. This time, she would not be caught off guard without a weapon. She had packed as quick as she could, and with a mournful glance at Cologne before heading out the door on her perilous journey to the north.