He was defeated. Howcould this happen? Not only was he rejected by every bystander he managed to stop and listen to his pitch, but he was also assaulted by the townspeople. In fact, they had formulated a line and were taking turns throwing things at him. It was absolutely humiliating.

With frustration and remorse in his heart, he finally decided it was time for him to call it quits.

A string of curses remained under his breath as he tossed aside that godforsaken invention. He felt as though a weight were lifted from his shoulders the moment its soft texture was completely out of his grasp. In fact, he was sure that if his hands were ever unfortunate enough to touch one ever again he would suffer from the most extreme of horrendously gruesome burns. And he knew horrendously gruesome burns.

"Come on Melvin," he growled to the mule, who cocked their head at him as if to say, 'I told you so'. He nearly spat at his friend's hooves, but settled with a scoff and climbed in to his seat. It only took a few minutes for them to reach the edge of town, and he was daring enough to peek over his shoulder with nostalgia in his eyes. It was a terrible place - a place of broken dreams. He felt forlorn there, but not nearly as forlorn as he would if he were back home.

Home. The word disgusted him; drew him to nearly retch.

He may not know what home was, but he knew that was no home.

"That place will be the death of me," a grievous tone took over his vocal chords, practically making him choke on air.

She was there. As long as she remained there, he would never think of that quintessence of hell as a home.

Never once in his life was he looking so forward to a trip back to his hut than now. What lay ahead of him in his inevitable future was terrifying, yes, but for now he could breathe. He could be an adult, on his own. He could be independent. The thought of getting a job someplace else flew through his mind. Perhaps he never had to go back and face her again. Perhaps this was it; he could make a life for himself, and even if he was not doing what he wanted, at least he was free.

Free.

He drove himself to say the word aloud. "Free."

It was optimistic and borderline far-fetched...but it was not impossible either.

He was surprised he still had the blessing of daylight. Usually it would be night by the time he headed back to the valley. With a content sigh, he leaned back and let his cobalt eyes fall on the breathtaking scenery. Midday. The atmosphere was pleasant. An air of opportunity lingered, and he liked to think it remained there for him to taste. Not wanting to pass up the once-in-a-lifetime chance, he inhaled the decadent aroma of a promising future.

That's when he saw something - or rather someone - dart behind a cluster of trees.

Right. He had nearly forgotten that creepy look-alike from earlier. Had the interloper really been...waiting there? For him? All day?

He shuddered at the thought, desperately trying to recall if he had stashed his axe in the wagon. It dawned on him that perhaps this enigmatic stranger knew of his temporary residence, and he made a detailed mental note to learn to sleep lighter, and definitely be more cautious during the day as well. he never dubbed such a pleasant valley as a dangerous place, but then again he always seemed to get the short end of the stick also. It was just his luck to move from one threatening area to another without even realizing it.

"Shit," his frustrated tone cut the once peaceful air like a blade. Melvin reeled his head over his shoulder for a moment, staring at the black-haired entrepreneur with narrowed eyes. Once-ler huffed, scattering a few tufts of unkempt ebony hair. "Good fight, huh buddy?" his chapped lips proclaimed. The mule turned its head around once more, focusing on the road ahead. "I figure that maybe I can find a job somewhere else, yea? It probably won't be much, but... I..." lithe fingers tightened around the reigns, "I don't want to go back there. You know?" he ground the inside of his cheek between his teeth and choked back the threat of desperate tears. His leg ached, and he absently rubbed the recently healed area, "I'm scared to. Fuck."

What will she say?