DISCLAIMER: Everything but my STILL nameless person is undisputedly property of Cornelia Funke, 'kay?
(A/N: Sorry about the wait-I'm kinda pressed for time right now… And I can't remember if I've said this or not, but sorry again if there are any inaccuracies, ya know, setting-wise or whatever. Just let me know and I'll fix it, yes? So…this chapter is mostly useless and silly filler, but I couldn't resist. Anyway, enjoy:D)
Prosper and Hornet were huddled over a book in the corner, Prop listening attentively as Hornet animatedly described the plot. Riccio and Mosca were tussling, laughing as they tumbled about, and Bo was singing a song Scipio had taught him wildly out of key, making up for what he lacked in tune with high enthusiasm. At first none of them heard the secret ring-two pulls on the rope, a pause, and then another- until Scipio's muffled voice reached them through the thick door.
"Oy, someone open the door, will you?"
Prosper stood and sauntered over, his boldness momentarily fueled by Hornet's approval. "That depends on who you are."
"You know perfectly well who I am, Prop, now please open the door!"
Prosper pretended to contemplate this for a moment, a mischievous grin lighting up his features. He winked roguishly at Hornet before turning back to the door and calling, "Okay, but you've got to say it."
"Say what? God, Prop, just open the door already. It's starting to rain!"
"Cummon, Scip, you can do it. Just repeat after me: 'Little pig, little pig…'"
Bo giggled helplessly, and Hornet, trying and failing to look disgusted, joined in. Silence reigned on the other side of the door for a second before Scipio answered flatly, "You're kidding, right? Prop, please, I brought…company."
Hornet's smile was quickly replaced by concern, and with it went Prosper's nerve as he reverted to his somewhat less outspoken self. Worry tinged his voice as he quickly slid the bolt on the door open and asked, "Who is it?" A/N: Sorry if Prop seems outrageously out of character-I hope I explained why sufficiently…:P
The door swung open to reveal a now wet and bedraggled Scipio supporting an unconscious girl. Staggering in, he deposited his load into a chair with a sigh of relief before angrily turning on Prosper. "Prop, wouldn't you just cooperate once in a while? Maybe take me seriously? I mean, for God's sakes, I find someone unconscious in an alleyway who might even be dying and you can't stop for one minute…" He regretted the words as they left his mouth, but his pride refused to let him apologize.
Bo stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment; Scipio never got that angry without a real reason. Hornet stepped in now, coming to Prop's defense. "Please, Scip, you know he was just playing around. How was he supposed to know? Anyway, what's wrong with her?" Her medical instincts kicking in, she turned and went to her new patient. Scipio noticed with strange, unnecessary relief how unquestioned his story had gone. He had decided to tweak it a bit, mostly to preserve his dignity. Turning now, he also studied the girl closely for the first time.
Her shortish brown hair framed a now deathly pale face. Rectangular glasses with thick black frames hung precariously where they had slipped half way down her nose. Her black jeans sported huge holes on both knees, revealing dirty and scraped skin, the pants ending in frayed cuffs several inches above her bare feet. The others crowded round her, murmuring anxiously. All but one.
Prosper, still smarting from being reprimanded in front of the others, went rather sulkily to his bed and sat heavily. It bothered him that they should be making such a big fuss about some girl Scip found in an alley. She was probably just another stupid street kid who wouldn't even be grateful when she awoke. Pointedly ignoring the rational part of his brain that pointed out that he would be in much the same position had Scipio not found him, Prop sat unnoticed, shrouded in his bitter thoughts.
(A/N: I edited both chapters a bit so that they are more accurate by the book, which I am now reading for the first time in several years. Meh.)
Oooh, suspenseful! …not. Ah well. More R&R, bigger R&R!