Chapter 4:
A nagging unease had gripped Willow all afternoon. Somehow, she just knew something wasn't right. Was it the rain? The irksome headache? Or was it the fact that she couldn't stop a nervous twitch in the corner of her left eyelid. Maybe it was a combination of it all.
Earlier on, Willow had crept out of the safety of Wickerbottom's tent to apologize to Wilson. Even just recalling this morning's episode left her wincing in embarrassment. Instead of finding the hare-brained man at his usual experiments, Willow he had learned that he left with the new guy that very morning. Left to trek to the valley with the Beefalo. All because of the stupid mess she'd made that morning.
Your fault. That was all Willow could think of. It was her fault they'd lost all their wood supply in the first place. Her fault that the group had been forced to split up. And it would be her fault if anything bad happened to them in the meantime.
She found herself chewing on her fingernail again, wearing it down to the skin. What the hell was taking Wilson so long to get back? It never took him this long, not to travel to the valley over.
"Don't worry, Little Mlle. They'll be back soon." The strongman Wolfgang boomed across the fire pit. With a wild nod, he barely took a pause while he ate the mountain of meatballs before him. She merely scowled back, disgusted that he could be so calm at a time like this. Didn't the fool realize that it was now pitch black? If the two of them got caught without a proper light source, they'd be already dead.
"Stop chewing that nail!" The woman, Ms Wickerbottom snapped next to her, looking up from her current book with a stern glare. The woman had positioned herself next to Willow, so she could watch her for any signs of madness. "Good heavens girl, stop fretting and eat something."
Willow growled, tugging at the ends of her pigtails. "You're not my Grandmother! Stop treating me like a little kid already! And in case you morons didn't realize, Wilson should be back by now. It doesn't take him this long to hike out. Something must have gone wrong, I know it!"
The others however didn't seem all that worried about her comment, all believing Wilson was very much capable to handle the wilds with Woodie alone. But none of them, not even Wolfgang or Wendy, knew how Wilson worked. His method of survival was almost mechanical; everything had to be done right, and as fast and perfect as possible. That's how both of them survived for so long, and it was clear to her these fools didn't understand that.
Returning back to work on the fingernail, Willow stared out into the embers. It was soothing, watching them flicker and dance in their chaotic rhythm. Even if the flames were the source of all her problems, at least they were always there for her in her time of need. From habit, she dug the lighter out of her pocket, flicking the flint with a reassuring 'click'. Again and again she played with the lighter, watching the flame light and die with each flick.
"Have they fallen to misfortune, Abigail?" Wendy muttered to the open red flower in her palms, cooing at it as she stroked the thin petals. "Yes… death is upon them."
"Shut it Freakshow," Willow rumbled, nerves shot.
"Willow!"
"Urgh, I can't take this anymore!" With a snarl she sprang up, Wickerbottom rising to meet her fearing her sanity. Quickly Willow paced around the fire, putting the flames between her and the old bat. "I can't stand that you all don't care that they're out there god knows where. They could be dead and all your worried about is my poor manners."
"Well then what do you suppose we do?" the woman snapped back. "there is nothing we can do until they return. For all we know they are perfectly fine. Woodie is new; inexperienced, and very naive. Wilson likely thought that showing him a few survive guidelines for the future might be in order. Until the morning, we cannot even think about heading out into the night."
"Says you! I'm fine with my lighter- "
"-And risk the whole forest being burnt to the ground in your madness? I don't think so. You're staying right here young lady; even if we have to force you to."
Anger bubbled deep in her chest, threating to boil over. Taking a deep breath Willow prepared to roar back, but Wolfgang cut her short. "Wilson is smart. Maybe crazy and weak. But smart. He'll know what to do."
"You're only saying that to make me feel better- "
"No Little Mlle; you know I'm not. And you know it's true too." He grinned, cheeks straining as he thundered. "Wolfgang knows he's right!"
With a low, long sigh the fury left Willow. Leaving her hollow and tired. He... that big muscle head was right. In a way. Wilson had a habit of worming himself out of trouble whenever his life was in danger. Maybe she was overthinking this? Returning to the log she'd been sitting on, she curled her legs up to her chin.
But the nerves twitch, the itch; it didn't go away.
The shadows were blacker, murkier than normal if that was possible. Whispers and laughter in the dark taunted her, worse than ever before. Even if the others tried to act like all was well, she had this horrible sinking feeling something dreadful had happened. Things had been shifting these past weeks, little things that hadn't just been the rain.
Willow was naïve, even she accepted that. But she was also observant, and by no means stupid. She knew Will was hiding something, something that he didn't want any of them to know. Whether to protect them or not concern them, it had to be big for him not to tell her. Wolfgang and Wendy might have been trapped here longer than the old bat, but they didn't know Wilson like she did.
Once, it had been just the two of them. Them versus the world. But in the first months struggling against that bitter winter, Wilson had been a very different man than he was now. He had been shattered, angry and just plain mad. The things he'd told her in his bouts of madness… it had left her shivering in fear of what was to come. But then something changed, like a switch, he'd changed.
Willow believed he'd pushed down the memories of that dark place so deep even he himself had forgotten them. These days Wilson was a calm, collected man with an eccentric love for experimenting; and on the rare occasion possessed an odd sense of humor. One day they found Wolfgang, then followed by the freaky death girl. A year later the old crone showed up and their little group grew bigger. No one had chosen him; but somehow, he'd ended up as their leader, teaching them how to survive this cruel game.
She suddenly realized, staring back into the flames; that she'd become dependent on him. How would they survive without his knowledge? That was why this nervous twitch wouldn't leave her, she pondered. It wasn't that she was worried about that new guy, it was that she was worried if they lost Will, they wouldn't live out the week. The hounds were coming soon, the days getting shorter and shorter. And with winter on the horizon, they needed all the help they could get.
With a click Willow returned to her lighter, flicking it back and forth again and again. She needed to calm down. Be ignorant like the others and believe everything was fine. That was how she wasn't going to go mad tonight.
There was a choking gasp, Wolfgang quickly swallowing the last of the meatballs as he flailed. "Look!" he yelled, pointing wildly into the dark behind her. "their back!"
It was like Willow had been zapped by lightning. Swiftly she jumped up, twisting round to peer out into the gap of their walls. There, moving zigzag through the trees was a flame. A torch, glowing faintly in the dark.
"There back," Willow breathed, not bothering to hide the relief that crossed her face. Stepping over the log she hurried towards the entrance, repeating her apology to Will again in her head. Lightly stepping around their farms she paused at the wall to flick her lighter on, smoothing out her skirt.
"Wilson?" she called out as the figure grew close. "Oh, thank god, you gave me quite a- Urgh!"
The figure moved into her light, caked in half-dried mud and sticks. At first, Willow thought it was one of those fish monsters sneaking out from the marshlands, but when the thing grinned madly back at her, red ax gripped in hand, she recognized at once who it was.
"W-Woodie?" Willow whispered, watching the man try and rub off the purple mud stuck to his beard.
"Hey gal, Few, that was a close one!"
"Where's Wilson?" she tried to spot him behind the man, thinking that maybe Wilson had followed further back just in case. But there was no other light-source to be seen.
Woodie tied the ax to his belt, scratching away the grime from his nose. "You have no idea how hard it was to find this place in the dark. It's a miracle that I found it at all, right Lu- "
Willow grabbed his collar, pulling him down eye level with startling strength. "Where's Wilson!" she shrieked, seconds away from setting the moron's beard on fire.
Woodie's grin faltered. "Wait… He ain't back yet?"
"No!"
The others rushed to them, hearing her distress. Wickerbottom quickly returned Woodie's collar to him, gently pushing Willow away. "What happened? Why isn't' Wilson with you?"
The man frowned, looking at each of them in turn. "Well… there was this tree monster… a Treeguard, that's what he called it. It attacked us. Well… Me, and I lured it to this swamp. All these tentacles just came up blooming out of nowhere and attacked it and I got away."
He turned back to Willow, suddenly anxious. "We split up when the thing attacked. I thought he'd make it back here. Told him not to worry about me-"
"-You left him? Why the hell did you do that genius!" She pushed passed the woman, pointing her finger savagely in his chest. "Do you have any idea how freaking dangerous this world is! No, of course, you don't. Everything here's just one big camping trip to you, a walk in the park that you can just skip around all merry with your girlfriend of an ax. Well, I hate to break it to you buddy, but this isn't some holiday! Wilson could die out there on his own!"
"That's enough girl, yelling won't help this." Wickerbottom lightly gripped her shoulder, softly trying to guide her back to the light. "Wilson perhaps went to the valley like he planned and decided coming back in the dark was not a good idea. Just because he left Woodie does not mean he is in trouble."
Willow shook off the hand. "It's not monsters I'm worried about. It's his mind! The longer he's out there alone, the more he'll lose it." She gazed out into the night, heart hammering.
She was scared. Wilson wouldn't have continued alone, would he? Not with Woodie being in danger of a Treeguard. He would have come back to camp, got them organized to fight that Treeguard as a group and headed out armed and ready. But if he did go on alone, what the hell would he be thinking? In the dark, without a proper camp his madness would come back. And with things so unpredictable, who knows what could happen out there?
"I'm going to find him." She stated, quickly running out into the dark before any of them could stop her.
"Willow! You get back here this instant! You cannot go out there in your current state- "
"Just try and stop me!" Willow screamed back, lighter held high. Increasing her speed, she bolted down the path she had traveled hundreds of times before.
Wickerbottom readied herself to try and run after her, but Wolfgang rushed forward before she had the chance, lighting a touch as he went. "I'll go with her."
But he stopped just as he was about to sprint off, looking fearfully back at the little group. "The Hounds…"
"We'll be fine." She sighed back, straightening her glasses. "I'm more worried about those two than us. Go, and bring them both back."
He nodded with a grunt, galloping off after the young girl, leaving the three behind. The old woman sighed again, abruptly feeling very tried. Of course, things couldn't have gone smooth. Why hadn't Higgsbury listened to her in the first place? Now, the party was split, and in more peril than before.
"Woe, it's like Abigail said;" Wendy breathed moanfully beside her, "Death is upon them."
Wickerbottom looked down at the strange girl, watching her play with the flower in her hands. "I hope your wrong, dear, I dearly hope you are wrong."
Taking a deep breath, she comprehended she was now in charge of this sad little group. That their lives now rested with her. Sternly she turned to Woodie, peering at his shabby appearance.
"Now, we have much to do and little time to do so. The Hounds are hastily approaching, and we still must prepare for winter. Woodie, you have never fought them before, so I advise you to listen to what I tell you. But first; go get yourself cleaned up. You reek."
He blushed, thankful she couldn't see it. "Yes Ma'am."
With a small nod, she took one last, long look out into the night, before turning back to their dying fire. Just as she was about to walk over before it went out, she froze when she felt the little girl's hand snake into hers. Such an uncommon thing for the usually emotionless girl to do, that she was taken aback.
She squeezed the fragile hand back, unsure if she did it for the girl's sake, or for her own.