We continued south until we came to a forest that was densely overgrown. It was relatively dark through the thickly overgrown tree tops.
"We should be careful, bandits and other outlawed rabble like to hang around in such forests," said Gringoire.
"I'm not really worried about that. With Quasimodo by our side? He's chasing every villain.", Said Jasmin and laughed. I looked to the side, embarrassed.
But just then, a noise made me sit up and take notice. Like a branch breaking through. But before I could even think about it, dark shapes rushed on us. They grabbed my arms roughly, wanted to press me to the ground. I saw myself raped when I heard a strange voice scream: "What the hell is THAT ?!"
I tried to fight my way out of the man who lay over me and pressed me to the ground. Somehow I managed to get my leg between his and kick as hard as I could. The man screamed and let go of me. He rolled over on the floor next to me in pain. I sat up and saw Quasimodo fighting against 3 men.
He managed to knock all 3 unconscious to the ground. I looked around uncertainly, Jasmin had just got rid of her attacker in the same way as I did and got up. Poor gringoire was getting pretty teased and I decided to help him. Because Djali couldn't help him much.
Quasimodo snorted as he knocked down the 3 men who attacked him. Then he saw Regina hurrying in the direction of the poet. He was pretty beaten up and she probably wanted to help him. She did not see an archer aiming at her from the bushes. But Quasimodo saw this and called her name as loud as he could. He hurried towards her and before he understood what he was doing, a great pain in his shoulder flashed through him. He screamed, turned to the archer, and rushed towards him. A second arrow grazed his face, leaving a thin, bloody cut above the wart above his eye. Quasimodo grabbed the archer and clutched his neck until his twitching subsided and he sagged lifeless and limp.
I stared at Quasimodo, startled. He had attacked the attacker like a madman and strangled him. I knew it was self-defense, but still ... it was a shocking sight to me. There was also an arrow stuck in Quasimodo's shoulder, where blood was already leaking all around.
Jasmine hurried over to Quasimodo, who was just dropping the archer.
"The arrow has to go!" She called out to me.
"Yes ... B-but ... we're in the middle of the forest here! Nobody can help us here!" I said.
"We have to help ourselves," said Jasmin. She motioned for Quasimodo to sit down. Quasimodo grumbled indignantly, but did what she wanted.
Jasmin waved to me: "Try to keep him calm."
"What? Are you serious?" I asked her, startled.
"At least I understand something like that," she said and I shrugged my shoulders. I stepped in front of Quasimodo and explained that Jasmine had to pull an arrow from the back of his shoulder for him. Then I leaned over him and pressed my hands on his hump. Then Jasmine counted to 3 and then pulled the arrow out with one violent pull. Quasimodo made no sound. He only winced briefly. Then Jasmin pressed something on his wound, it looked like the rest of her pack of handkerchiefs.
"We have to connect that somehow," she said.
"We'd need a very long bandage," I said.
"Hmmm maybe that will help you?" Asked Gringoire, waving a long handkerchief around.
"Is that about?" I started.
"It belonged to Esmeralda. I took it with me when I left the Court of Miracles," explained Gringoire. The shawl was longer than a scarf, my guess was that it had either been used as dance equipment or she had used it as a belt or corset. But I didn't like any of that. How was Quasimodo ever going to start a new life when he was reminded of Esmeralda over and over again? I looked grimly at the poet who was helping Jasmin treat Quasimodo.
After that was done, we went on until the evening. This time we went to a barn to avoid further trouble. Quasimodo walked even slower after the attack and I was afraid that the blood loss was too much for him. I kept looking at him worriedly as we walked on or took him by the arm and walked right next to him.
When we got to the barn, Quasimodo fell asleep straight away, while I watched him with concern. The rest of us had dinner first and then Jasmin fell asleep too.
"I don't know what it is exactly ... But you seem to have something to do with him," whispered Gringoire.
I looked at the poet in surprise: "I don't understand what you are talking about."
"I see it in your eyes. The way you look at him. It almost seems to me like ... but that's impossible.", Gringoire said and then shook his head. He laughed softly.
"What?" I asked him angrily.
"Well, my dear, I'm a poet, and I know I'm in love when I see you," said Gringoire.
"And what's impossible about that?" I asked him.
"That someone can love this monster," Gringoire said dryly.
I growled and looked angrily at the poet. Then I jumped up and said, "Impossible you say ??? In case you missed it, even though he looks the way he looks ... He is a person with feelings! It seems that I am one of the few who own that Ability to see the heart behind this facade! You seem to lack that enormously, Mr. Poet! "I uttered the last word as scornfully as possible.
"... uh ... but please ... my lady ... I didn't mean to offend you!", Gringoire said in an almost pleading tone. I looked down angrily at the poet and then angrily went a little deeper into the forest to get some fresh air.
