"Okay…" began Hunter, tying the hook to the leather. "Mother Nature, grab the hook and secure it to the bars near the cage door." Hunter began to swing the hook like a pendulum out of the cage, rocking back and forth until it got the proper momentum. With a small clank, it hit the bars, Mother nature grabbing the base of the hook and wedging it between the bars, until finally she had a secure grip next to the door and lock.
"Okay." She called, giving a thumbs up. Hunter turned to the seven spirit army behind him, each grasping the rope.
"Okay…PULL!" With a small groan, the cages began to move, their own tilting slightly while Mother Nature was forced back against the cage bars like she was in a recliner. Finally they managed to pull the cage close enough to reach, and Aster tied the rope to the bars of their cage, though they still hung on tightly. Carefully, Hunter reached out of the cage with a screw driver, bracing himself with his feet against the bars to be level with the lock. Small squeaks came from the screws, a little clack as each hit the floor stories below, Finally Hunter pulled back in, a heavy lock in his paw.
"Dad, catch!" he whispered. Aster grunted, the lock heavier than it looked. He pocketed the screw driver and pushed back out.
"Got her!" he said, grasping Mother Nature tightly against the bars. "Brace yourselves!" Mother Nature took a breath and pulled the hook free, and the cages swung. When the rocking finally stopped, Hunter pulled Mother Nature through one of the bigger spaces between the bars.
"Nice try, rat." Hunter yelped in pain as his body was pulled harshly against the metal by black sand, ripping away his utility belt and the grappling hook. "Perhaps I should corrupt you as well. Though, I DO owe you for my fingers…" The sand tightened around his throat, making him choke. Rose glared at Pitch, and before anyone could move, she shot forward, grabbed one end of the rope wrapped around a thick vine of the sand, and pulled. The bared hook spun, ripping through the sand, the glittering black falling from her brother's neck and piling in the cage. Quickly the black returned to Pitch, who had slammed Rose back with another vine of sand, Aster catching her before she slammed into the opposite side of the cage.
"Enjoy your time while it lasts, rodent." He hissed."Because tonight is your last." Pitch vanished into the shadows, leaving all quiet.
"It was worth a shot." Said Tooth. "We have another chance tonight."
"I hope so." Said Emma, Aster, checking Hunter's bruising throat. Suddenly Nick started squealing, pointing at the floor where the sand had fallen.
"Mama, Mama, Mama!" The group looked at the metal floor, and saw gentle ferns of frost spreading on the floor and crawled up the bars, a weak cold breeze ruffling their hair, sand, feathers and fur. Soon though the frost melted, leaving the floor slightly damp and the gentle breeze was replaced by the harsh gusts of wind. Nick whined a bit as the frost disappeared, the older prisoners watching in awe.
"We're going to get yer Mother back." Said Aster, picking up Nick. "He's too stubborn to have it any other way."
ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROTG-ROT-ROTG
"Why are we stopping at the Warren?" asked Daisy.
"Egg golems." Said Joy, hopping down the familiar tunnel to the Warren. She stopped, a horrible stench filling her nose. Cautiously, she crept towards the end of the tunnel. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked upon the Warren, the normally luscious green grasses burned to black and brown. Ashes fluttered through the air, the egg flower fields burnt to a crisp. Trees had fallen, their bark blackened and cracked. The burrow was half collapsed, the camouflage of ferns and bushes gone.
"Dear MiM…" murmured Jesse, Autumn covering her mouth to hold in a gasp of shock. Joy looked down, seeing her feet turning dark gray from the soot and ashes. Daisy bit her lip, flying about to see the full damage. Even Old Man Winter seemed shocked.
"Everything on the other side of the paint river is more or less fine." Said Daisy, returning. "But…MiM, who does this?!" Joy sniffed about, taking in the scene of her home reduced to ashes and debris. She jumped as she saw something move under the ashes, Carefully she dusted off the ash, revealing a surviving egg blossom. It's petals popped open, revealing an explosion of color, a little egglet coming forth and hopping onto Joy's leg, crawling up onto her head, where it sat nuzzling her left ear affectionately. As if a signal had been given, more surviving egglets crawled out of the ashes, their paint half obscured by ash and soot. Joy looked down to see one bumping into her foot. Picking it up she wiped away the ash, and recognized the messy pink flower pattern immediately.
"I'm never gonna be as good as you, Daddy." Huffed Joy, painting pink daisies on the yellow egg, her Father doing a detailed lily on his own blue one. Her Mother was finger painting messy patterns on eggs with Hunter on his lap, the four year old having fun while his sister agonized over her own.
"Technique takes time to learn." Said her Father, giving her a smile. "And a lot of practice, ya impatient little sheila. Besides, it's pretty good for yer first shot."
"But yours is prettier!"
"Because I've had hundreds of years of practice." Replied her Father. With a smirk, he looked at her Mother. "And I got yer gorgeous Mother as a muse."
"Sappy old Easter Kangaroo." Snorted her Mother, frost on his cheeks betraying his blush.
"But I wanna be better NOW."
"One day, yer gonna look at this egg and realize how beautiful it is." Said her Father. "Yer details are coming along, but the colors match well. It's bright, it's down right adorable, and the egg likes it when ya paint it. It's not Van Gogh, or an Emily Carr, but bloody oath it's a pretty little egg. This little googie is going in my personal collection."
"Why?"
"Because my little Easter Snow Bunny made it." replied her Father, smiling. "And ya can do anything ya put yer mind to. Ya got talent sheila, and one day yer gonna be right up there with yer old Dad."
Joy didn't realize she was cradling the egg until it started to crawl up her arm. The Warren could be rebuilt. The burrow was fixable. She perked up her ears, listening for the shifting stone of the egg golems, but instead she heard a familiar laugh.
"What the-" She raced towards the pigment river and hopped across, the three seasons and Old Man Winter following her through the destruction. By the time she found the source of the noise, her fur was black with ash and soot.
"Mrs. Clause?!" The old woman turned from her spot conversing with the golems and egglets.
"Joy…I think." She said. "You need a bath young lady."
"What…How…why are you here?!"
"Opened a portal." She said, gesturing to the army of elves playing with the egglets, a few yetis storing the salvaged toys from the workshop in the field. "Problem with Pitch is he doesn't learn. I've been waiting for your Father to come down here."
"Pitch has him!" exclaimed Joy. "He has ALL the guardians! Mom's absorbed in his sand and he's repeating whatever he did to Cupid with him and-"
"That explains why those four are here." She stated, pointing at the four seasons and Old Man Winter.
"Anya."
"Winter." Nodded Mrs. Clause. "I thought Mother Nature put you in Mount St. Helen."
"The fluff ball let me out."
"Oh, the irony." She ground out. "Your savior, the defenceless little kit you tried to destroy."
"WHAT?!" exclaimed Joy, the seasons jumping a bit at the information as well.
"In hindsight, not my best plan." He sighed. "Imprisonment would have sufficed. I still stand by my belief, though. Winter spirits should NOT be involved with spring spirits."
"Just don't get any bright ideas." Huffed Mrs. Clause. "Then again, beating the shit out of you should be PLENTY of fun." Old Man Winter and Mrs. Clause glared angrily at each other for a few moments, giving Joy the chance to round up the egg golems. Daisy sat on one of the eggs, staring off into the burnt fields.
"I remember when this happened the first time…" she whispered.
"It happened before?" asked Joy. Daisy nodded.
"I was good friends with your Father then." She said quietly. "He had just become the Easter Bunny. He wasn't too much older than you, about seventeen, still developing his skills, still mastering the boomerang. Then there were many Pookas, and they all painted the eggs, each one pitching in to create Easter. It was their job, and the rest of the year they were free. Then Pitch attacked. He burned down the warren and killed off the Pookas, all except your Father. He was out delivering Easter, and when he returned, everyone was gone. For years he was so angry and bitter, nobody could come near him. Still, Easter somehow kept coming. But, he wasn't the same. He became withdrawn, and developed a famous bad attitude and refused to speak to anyone. Nobody quite understood how he could be the guardian of hope, and plenty thought it a sick joke from the Moon. The last of his species…how could he be the guardian of hope, and yet have no hope himself?"
"But…he's not the last." Said Joy. "He can't be the last one."
"You five kits are the only other Pooka in existence." She said. "And trust me, he looked. There were no other survivors. You're Mother…Autumn and I are the only ones out of the three of us that are civil around him. We don't like him, he's pretty destructive to our seasons, but somehow he's good for your Father. I caught him hiding eggs just after your first birthday, and we had a quick chat. I hadn't seen him that happy since his own parents and family was alive. I assume the new baby he mentioned was that gray one with the sword. He looks just like him."
"Probably." Said Joy.
"He was bragging about how special you were, how you already had a talent for art." She said. "How you'd be one of the best Easter Bunnies in history, looking forward to teaching you how to throw a boomerang…I honestly don't think he talked as much as he did in a decade before you were born than he did in that five minutes. Still, just seeing this place as broken as back then…It still hurts to see. I helped create the Warren, seeing it dead like this…"
"My Dad says that there is ALWAYS hope." Said Joy. "Even when things look their darkest, as long as you have hope you can always beat it."
"Wise words from a wise, irritable bunny." Agreed Daisy. Autumn had FINALLY broken the yelling contest between Mrs. Clause and Old Man Winter, and was currently telling them off. Daisy whistled, getting their attention.
"You know, we DO have a separate agenda here!" she said, frowning. "Are we gonna give Pitch what he's had coming for centuries, or are we going to stand here fighting like toddlers?"
"Whoa, kitty got claws." Chuckled Jesse, earning a hit on the head from Old Man Winter's staff.
"Show some respect to the lady." He hissed.
"Like you were with the old bat?"
"You're older than her, you moron." Sighed Autumn.
"Not physically."
"You're lucky we're on a time limit, which by the way is almost up, you little imp." Huffed Mrs. Clause. "Because if I had a few spare moments, I'd gladly twist your spine like a cork screw." Joy loudly thumped her foot.
"We ready?" she asked, giving the spirits a look. Mrs. Clause cracked her knuckles.
"Time to turn Pitch into punching bag, ja?" she snickered, ding a rather accurate impression of her husband. The small army followed Joy through the tunnels, the ash-covered Pooka picking up her sibling's scent, as well as the sickening scent of blood.
Please don't let us be too late.