As we proceeded further and further into the gloom and deeply shaded forest, the rhythmic jostle of the Tin Man's steps became almost hypnotic. Though the setting itself was, notably, disquieting.
The trees were lush and verdant to the degree that they created only rare and broken beams of the obnoxious sunlight to twinkle down. A welcome relief. Nonetheless, the creeping shadows seemed to hide many things, and every now and again one would glimpse a movement not unlike that of a wild animal. I found myself both trying to see exactly what was moving just beyond the light, while at the same time distinctly wishing that I were blissfully oblivious - that I may not have noticed anything at all.
We slowed, as the puffing and clanking grew steadily less prompt. Until finally we came to a complete stop.
"Gentle-Men. Please Wind Le-Ver Mark-Ed Two." The Tin Man hissed in a sudden release of steam.
"Oh, alright!" Holmes shrugged and leapt from his seat, merry to be once more at work on the invention. I took the opportunity to briefly examine my symptoms, though could come to no decisive conclusion regarding the state of my health. I speculated that perhaps it was merely the great amount of stress put upon my intelligence. It also must have been quite some time since last I ate, or had a moment to myself. I relished the brief relaxation and shut my eyes.
Then, I heard a sound quite likely to set the blood to freezing. A low rumble, animal by all definitions and most unexpected. I opened my eyes to gaze upon an enormous lion.
"Ah… Yes… Well…" I stammered in the direction of the beast.
"This key is giving me one deuce of a time, Watson. It seems to be stuck. Have we still got that oil can?" Clearly, my friend had yet to notice the great big lion. Funny the times when one's highly praised powers of observation choose to give out.
"Holmes…" I began, and fear that my voice had risen to an unflatteringly high pitch.
"Frog in your throat?"
"Lion in my face, actually." I squeaked, trying desperately to disappear behind my own shoulders without the animal noticing.
"What are you on about li…" Here Holmes's voice dropped into a sudden silence. I presumed he had finally seen our guest.
"What do I do?" I whispered in his direction hoarsely.
"Is that lion wearing a little red bow in his mane?" Holmes sounded deeply offended. Though I had previously had no compulsion, I took a very detailed look at the beast and noticed that it was, indeed, wearing a bow. However, I felt that this detail was in no way pressing.
"Holmes! It is going to kill me! Please say something helpful!"
"Don't be silly, Watson. It is not going to kill you. Now then, do we still have that oil can?" He diligently searched the front of the wheelbarrow until he found what he needed beneath our scarecrow.
The lion growled at me once more, licking its teeth menacingly.
"It is going to eat me! Holmes!"
"You are being ridiculous – absolutely ridiculous! Here, tend to our Tin Man and I shall show you once and for all that there is absolutely nothing to be feared from this poor creature!" Holmes sighed indignantly; thrusting the oil can against my chest.
He strode purposefully to stand next to the lion, where he at once began to pet the animal as one would a common household cat.
"There, you see. Nothing at all to be afraid of. As harmless as a kitten." He shrugged. The lion sat down beside him, lolling its head sleepily; every now and then its massive pink tongue making a swipe over its teeth.
"Shocking, sir! Absolutely shocking!" I marveled, dropping the can with a clank. At once I stood and leaned towards the massive lion to better inspect it.
"Our friend here is not typical of his species. Note his colour – a rather pale blonde in place of the usual tawny tones that mark his brothers. This indicates at once that he is an infamous Timbavati white lion, of the Kruger subspecies to be more precise. Panthera leo Krugeri in the scientific."
"But how does any of this relate to our not being eaten?"
"White lions are difficult to come by, as they exist only due to a flaw in the bloodline which causes leucism. The reduction of pigment in the creature's fur. As we are now quite certain that we have found ourselves in a manufactured paradise, and lions find themselves completely separate of temperate forest in the wild, it becomes clear to assume that this creature has been brought here on Ozma's whim.
"One imagines immediately that specialized breeding has occurred, the side effects of which are hind-limb paralysis and a disease of the heart. Coupled with the animal's obvious domestication and the fact that it sat still long enough for someone to put this ludicrous bow atop its head, it was barely a matter of any mental stretch to know that he was hopelessly pusillanimous."
"Oh I see! It all makes such sense now!"
I was lying.
"He has not the courage to pounce an ant, Watson. It is not in him." Holmes neatly wrapped up his speech and resumed his attempt to restart the Tin Man.
In the peaceful moment that came after, I took it upon myself to observe the lion. He still lay relaxed, breathing with some noticeable effort and looking about himself with what was almost a sadness glazed over the pinhole pupils of its honey eyes. I thought then what a terrible life the creature must have had, and began to look upon the decoration in his mane with the same revolution one would observe any injustice with.
"Got it!" Holmes called, and the clicks and creaks of the Tin Man could be heard once more. I knew at once that our unusual trolley was once more on the move, but could not break my gaze from the melancholy countenance of the lion.
"Watson! I don't think he's going to wait!" Holmes laughed, as the Tin Man chugged onward like the simple machine he was.
I looked at my friend, and knew at once that he understood the gravity of emotion that had overtaken me.
"We cannot take him with us, for there is no place for him that is not here. But, perhaps – perhaps we can do some small thing for him." Holmes placed a hand upon my shoulder as I dropped to my knees and began, very gently, to remove the bow.
"Shall that give him some higher level of confidence?" I mused, as the majestic animal retreated amidst the trees.
"Yes. I daresay it will." Holmes added quietly.
"There's a sort of heroism to it, I think…" I began as we started strolling to catch up with the Tin Man, who despite not going very fast had an excellent determination for going.
"Whatever do you mean, Watson?"
"I suppose I mean that it takes great amount of courage to be something like that lion. Though, I doubt that he himself will ever understand what any such nonsense is." I explained quickly, and we sped up to jump on the back of the wheelbarrow, landing rather gracelessly.
"Look on the bright side – our list of contentions grows ever longer! When we reach the wizard he'll go mad from the sheer number of complaints we'll lodge!"
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A/N: Hooray! I've broken my Seventh Chapter curse! This is the first story I've ever written beyond a point of seven chapters! I'm very, very pleased with myself and whole-heartedly admit that I wouldn't have been able to do it without the thoughtful support of my reviewers.
I deeply appreciate all the kind things everyone has said. It means a great deal to me, as I've always been painfully shy about my writing and usually harbour serious doubts concerning both my imagination and skill as an author.
You're all very kind, and your encouragement is the sugar in my tea. If there's anything you would like to know or discuss I'm more than here for all of you.
(This is not to say that if you have any criticisms you should hold back. Let me know where I screw up so that I can fix it, right?!)