Author's Note: Happy Halloween/ Blessed Samhain everyone!
Updated: October. 31, 2012
Months Later
"Hey, Ryder," Vladamyr shouted across the Snuggly Duckling, "they've got another wanted poster out for you. No picture though." Ryder looked across the room at the mountain of a man and smiled. What was a wanted poster but proof of some sort of accomplishment?
"That's my girl," George, the drunken old coot yelled, reaching out and placing his thin arms around her small shoulders. Fearless smiled at him in the customary sweet way that she had grown so accustomed to and just barely felt some pleasure in the small amount of physical contact.
"You need to be more careful," Scraps warned. "We wouldn't want our little girl to get tossed into prison. You or that little frog of yours."
"He is not a frog," she sighed. "Pascal is a chameleon."
"Sorry, little buddy," Scraps said to the chameleon, who was eying him coldly. Pascal nodded and looked up at his companion.
In the days after Eugene's death, Rapunzel had thrown away her name and took up something more suiting of what she was planning to do. She traded in her brushes and used her keen intuition to learn the tricks of the thievery trade that her love had so excelled at. She had even adopted half of his alias as her own, in his memory. Her loving ruffians had accepted her with open arms and embraced her new dream. The dream of being a thief that was worthy of the name Ryder.