He had survived the murderous cries of the Hounds, the bloodthirsty snarls of spiders, and even the horrifying music box-like call of the fire-stealer, but only at this new sound did Wilson freeze in his tracks.

He blinked. As it used to whenever he conducted experiments, Wilson's brain categorized his thoughts into the most plausible explanations and rationales that could arise from the startling noise.

First and foremost: he could have imagined it. It was entirely possible and very probable, seeing as he'd spent a bit more time than he would have liked lingering around the dark part of the woods with the creepy flowers, which always seemed to take a toll on his sanity. And even if he hadn't imagined it—he had definitely noted some birds fleeing from the source of the noise—there were plenty of explanations. A trick of Maxwell's, a strange new animal's cry, a distant echo…?

But then he heard it again, and his list of rationales evaporated. It was, without a doubt, a woman's scream.

Wilson hated having his options reduced to their most primal bones, fight or flight, but this world often forced him into that situation. This time, he would fight.

He raced in the direction of the cry, hearing more noises as he got closer: the rustling of pine needles, quick footsteps, labored breathing. Acting on a hunch, he broke through the foliage only to come face to branch with a hulking tree guard.

Thinking fast (well, as fast as he could think with his heart in his throat), Wilson tore off his backpack and pulled out his trusty ice staff. A few hits froze the piney monster in its tracks. Exhaling sharply, Wilson hastily planted a handful of the pine cones he kept in his pocket for such occasions and backed away as the thawing creature let out a pleased grunt and began to retreat.

Turning around, Wilson's heart leapt right back up into his mouth at the sight of… a girl? A real, living, breathing, human, female…

Let's not jump to conclusions, Wilson reminded himself. She (?) could always be another one of Maxwell's tricks. Maybe she was one of those Kitsune-foxes he had read about?

The maybe-girl, who was lying on the ground a few steps away, started to scramble up, pulling something out of her pocket.

"Hey, hey! Whoa!" Wilson leapt back, holding up his staff.

"Who are you? What are you?" The girl spat, producing a lighter from her pocket. "Tell me or I burn down the forest!"

"Hey! Take it easy! Is that a real lighter? Where did you get that? Are you real? It's Wilson."

The girl furrowed her brow, lowering the lighter. "What's Wilson?"

"My name. Wilson P. Higgsbury. I'm a scientist. Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"A scientist?" She cocked her head.

"Yes. A gentleman scientist, I like to fancy myself."

The girl's face softened. Wilson weighed the movement and dropped his staff, raising his palms in a gesture of peace.

"It's Willow."

"What?"

She laughed—a musical, flutey sound. "My name. It's Willow. See how that feels?"

Wilson cracked a grin. "Sorry. I tend to act without thinking sometimes." He shouldered his backpack and got a good look at what he was almost sure was a human girl named Willow.

She had black hair divided into girlish pigtails, large pale eyes, and was white as a sheet save for her rosy cheeks. She wore a red blouse, long black skirt and black boots. The pigtails made her seem younger, but Wilson guessed she was in her early twenties.

"So what are you doing here, Willow?"

She sighed. "I honestly can't remember. I woke up, and some tall jerk in a suit told me to get some food and then disappeared." She shrugged. "So that's what I've been doing—well, that and lighting fires. I was gathering more wood when that thing popped up."

Wilson had to strain to pay attention to the rest of her story after she mentioned the "tall jerk in a suit." He hated that guy—he'd used his own curiosity against him, the pretentious jerk.

"He's the reason we're here. He tricked us. Well, he tricked me at least." Wilson briefly relayed how Maxwell, through the radio, had dragged him into this strange place.

Willow scrunched up her face. "Stupid Maxwell."

The two stood in awkward silence.

"Do you have a camp set up?" Wilson asked, wanting to ask her a million things but needing to ask only a few.

"Just a fire pit. I'm trying to find gold so I can build a science machine."

"I can give you some gold." Her pale eyes brightened, but as soon as the words left his lips Wilson regretted it, having already thought of a better idea. "Oh—but it's back at my camp. I've got a fire pit, a science machine, an alchemy engine…"

"Oh, wow. Really? Do you have a lot of wood and stuff? For fires?"

"Well, um, of course. I use grass tufts, mostly—"

"Oh, those are wonderful!"

Gauging her happiness and, therefore, willingness to agree, Wilson took the leap.

"Want to camp with me? We could team up. It would be a lot easier. To survive, I mean."

Willow laughed again, and Wilson's heart dropped. "Of course, ha! I had assumed we would be! I was hoping you'd ask."

Wilson breathed a sigh of relief. "Perfect. I'll lead you back." Ideas were forming fast in Wilson's head, and he felt almost giddy. New possibilities excited him more than the radio show with that Sagan professor he used to listen to back home.

"Once we get back, I'll give you my shovel. Dig up some grass tufts for fuel and pick as many berries and carrots as you can. I could also use some more flint… Oh! Take my axe, too, and get some wood. I've been needing more boards." Wilson paused, so caught up in his new plans and ideas that he had neglected to pay attention to Willow. To his relief, she seemed fine with his plans.

"So, lots of fuel and food. What will you be doing?"

"I found a great marsh biome up north from here. I've been needing some more reeds, so I was heading up there. I might not be back until night. Can you get a fire going?"

"Can I!" Willow laughed again, not quite as musical as the first time. More maniacal. "It's what I do best!" She whipped out her lighter again and flicked it on.

"Isn't it pretty?"

"I've always been a fan of fire," Wilson agreed, though he was a bit disconcerted by how lovingly she stared at the flame. "It's such an important component to science."

"Yeah! Burn!" She replied.

Wilson smiled uneasily.

"Oh! Here we are," he said as he spotted a trap of his, indicating proximity to his camp. "My shovel's over there. Here's my axe. Gather whatever you can and get back here before nighttime. Sound good?"

Willow reluctantly flicked the lighter off, but gave him a smile anyway. "Sure thing, partner."