It had been several days since both Wirt and Beatrice had begun to traverse the Unknown in complete confusion. They made sure to avoid the road, as they knew the Beast was expecting them both to take those kind of routes. Instead, they continued going through the woods, every now and then, Beatrice would fly above the trees to see where they were.
"So, what's it like to have wings?" Wirt asked, the poet in him eager to seek some newfound inspiration from as literal an angel could have been in front of him. What kind of description could someone give to be blessed with such beautiful limbs? The mere idea tantalizing the poetic juices in him.
"It's terrible." She said flatly, much to his frowning disappointment.
"What?! How can you say that?" He walked faster to be right next to her. Her face showing annoyance. "You literally have something that most humans can only dream and wish of having! I mean, this incredible if you think about it." He tried to convince her.
"Wirt, I was already a bluebird for the longest time. It was easier then. Now, it's annoying because I can't five steps without a twig or a bunch of stupid leaves getting in them. Besides, I can't change so easily because they get in the way." She frowned and lightly placed her hand on his face and pushed him a bit away from hers.
"You can't be serious. You can fly, they're beautiful. With the right mindset, I'm sure we can make a haiku or something out of them." He pushed the subject.
"A what?!" She exclaimed in frustrating confusion. "Wirt, you should know by now that half the words you say I don't even know! Besides, I'm guessing you're some kind of student somewhere wherever you're from, right?" She frowned. "Well my family could only do homeschooling, so whatever your fancy upper class education you come from, you don't have to show it off to me." She humphed as she blew a strand of her hair that fell over her face.
"Upper education?" Wirt asked, honestly offended by her choice of words. "Beatrice, me and Greg are barely middle class, we don't have...forget it." He sighed, too annoyed by her insinuation, she looked back at him with confusion.
"What are you talking about?" She asked as she continued to move through the vegetation.
"Forget about it." Wirt said, trying to avoid looking at her, though keeping her in his peripheral vision so he didn't get lost.
"No, seriously. Tell me. You're not from upper class but you speak so fancily. I figured with all the poems and talk about Endicott's manner you came from his type of class." She admitted.
"Well no...to be honest, my family doesn't struggle financially, but we're certainly not living in luxury, that's for sure." Wirt sighed.
"Where are you from? I can't wrap my head around how your family can afford a home and education of your caliber and not be rich."
"I guess in my time, things become more accessible and others less." Wirt said simply. Beatrice looked back at him and sighed in return.
"Maybe having wings isn't so bad." She said, trying to cheer him up. "Write a poem about how they're another burden for the sake of vanity or something." She said.
"That certainly sounds like a good idea for a poem." He said to himself.
As they continued to walk through the woods, they came across a familiar, tea-selling, estate. The gates having been broken into and many of the windows from the outside broken into.
"Uncle Quincy!" Wirt yelled in worry as he rushed forward, axe in hand.
"Wirt!" Beatrice called out after him, keeping the Tome close to her.
"Oh no, oh no..." Wirt began to panic and rushed passed the front garden and up the stairs toward the main doors, Beatrice running after him. He quickly checked to see if the door was locked. It was broken into as well. Beatrice walked up to him from behind and turned him toward her.
"What do you think you're doing?!" She yelled in a whisper to him. Before he could answer her, they saw movement in the garden behind them and noticed grotesque looking cadavers walking about toward them slowly. "Get in!" Beatrice hushed, pushing them both inside the manner and running through the hallways, only to be met with more of the undead.
"Ah!" Wirt yelled as one came across him. Rather than use the axe, his first instinct was to flinch. Luckily for him, Beatrice managed to run forward and kick it down, grabbing Wirt by his hand and leading the way for their escape.
"Wake up, Wirt!" She scolded him.
"I'm sorry! Wait! The armoire!" He pointed to the place they hid when they first visited the mansion.
"Great idea!" She said as she rushed them both in it and closing so that the undead couldn't pry it open, only this time, with Beatrice back to human size, space was more limited to them. "Quickly, we gotta wiggle down to that space from last time!" She said.
"I'm trying!" Wirt said back to her as they could hear the undead struggle to get it in. Luckily for them, they didn't know how to pull open the door from the outside and were only capable of slamming against the doors.
"Ok, I got it!" Beatrice said as she crouched down and crawled down into the inning of the small chimney of Margueritte's side of the estate. "Come on, Wirt!" She yelled back at him.
"Comin-ah!" He yelled as he felt the stab of a sharp object into his abdomen.
"What happened?!" She yelled after him.
"Hrg..!" Wirt struggled to speak, as the undead began to smash the doors of the armoire with blunt objects. One of them stabbed through with a knife and held him in place. If he could pale against the dark contrast of his abyss dark skin, he would have. Wirt, not wanting to make this wound count as fatal on Beatrice's behalf, forced himself to find a way out. He quickly threw down the axe into the inning and took ahold of the blade and began to force it out, despite it being driven back into him from the one holding it from the outside. Cutting the palms of his hands in the process, he managed to remove the knife from his abdomen, leaving a trail of crude oil behind and quickly stumbling over to the hole and after Beatrice, who'd already climbed out.
"Wirt!, Give me your hand!" She said, he picked up his axe and quickly took her hand and was pulled out just in time as the undead began to fall and crawl into the inning. Unable to climb out, the simple undead could only try to reach out after them. Beatrice managed to pull them both out of range and wasted no time trying to cover his would up. She noticed it healed incredibly fast, but also that one of the feathers on her back fell off her wings as though it were forcibly plucked out. "Ouch!" She exclaimed. Looking back at the undead under the chimney, she looked over the fireplace and noticed a box of matches. Lighting a match, she threw it down where Wirt's oil blood was and immediately the undead began to howl at the burning flames.
"Beatrice..?" Wirt said weakly. "I'm sorry." He said, trying to get up.
"Don't strain yourself." She sighed as she sat next to him.
"That was amazing what you did just now." He motioned towards the burning skeletons.
"Yeah well, you bleeding out certainly helped." She chuckled.
"I'm sorry I cost you a feather." He apologized.
"It's alright, I have a couple more." She flexed her wings to show that a missing feather was barely visible. "It hurts though when you got that fatal blow now. I felt your pain concentrate over the feather that fell out." She admitted.
"I'll do better next time." He said.
"You just had to run in, didn't you?" She asked in disbelief. "I can't blame you though, I would have been worried for them too." She said.
"I hope they're alright. Quincy, Margueritte and Fred..." He said. "I could really go for a cup of tea." He admitted.
"Me too." She agreed.
"Well why didn't you say so, nephew?!" Endicott appeared from the room next to the chimney.
"AH!" Wirt and Beatrice exclaimed in fear and huddled closely together for comfort.
"My boy, I didn't know you took a bride so soon, obviously this is cause for further celebration!" Endicott professed loudly. "Come, come, follow me, your step-aunt and I were having a marvelous discussion with your equine fellow." He said as he walked off, expecting them both to follow.
Both of them were too stunned with his appearance and behavior before they noticed how intimate a position they took upon being scared and quickly separated.
"Um..." Wirt stuttered.
"Let's just follow him." Beatrice got them both up quickly and turned away from him to hide her blush.