Chapter Two: Of Tallbirds and Charlie

"So... You were in control of this place and now you're not?" Willow asked, tossing an unlit torch between her hands.

Maxwell paused his chopping off a nearby pine tree and wiped his arm across his forehead. Physical labor was not something he was accustomed to. He did not like it. At all.

"Yes. I even made it snow whenever I wanted," he replied with a sigh. Now that he thought about it, he kind of missed the power he had. The power to make life difficult for that little scientist. It was Maxwell's only regret really. Other than that, he was glad to be off that hellish throne.

Willow's concentrating frown remained constant. "I'm glad you aren't in control anymore," she grumbled. "That would've been more annoying than dealing with you now."

Maxwell rolled his eyes, hefting the roughly cut logs onto his shoulders. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, pal," he mumbled. "Let's get back to the campfire. It's almost evening. Charlie will be waking up soon."

Willow picked her new backpack off the ground and followed after the well-dressed man. She really didn't trust him but it was useful to have someone else chop firewood. Even if he wasn't all that strong.

"Who is Charlie anyway?" she questioned Maxwell when they had reached their tiny, temporary 'campsite'. "Some pet of yours?"

Maxwell set the logs into a chest and looked over his shoulder at Willow, one eyebrow raised. "Oh no. Charlie isn't a pet. He's more like a friend."

"What's he look like?"

"I don't know. I've never actually seen what he looks like," he said, shrugging. "He doesn't like light though. You'd make an easy meal for him if you didn't have a light source with you."

Willow flinched, scowling at Maxwell. His tone was far too casual for what he was saying. He almost sounded amused with the idea of her getting eaten by some invisible monster he called 'Charlie'. She continued to glare hatefully and put all of her anger and annoyance into lighting the fire. Watching the flames grow almost uncontrollably large calmed her down.

It was for her fire-starting habits that Maxwell chose an area mostly devoid of trees to make their campsite. He did not want her burning down an entire forest with her shenanigans. That would be dangerous.

"I'm sure Charlie wouldn't find you very appetizing though," Maxwell continued while munching on a few berries he had found. "You'd probably taste like burnt pork."

"Well that's a relief," Willow snapped with plenty of sarcasm.

"Glad to offer some comfort," Maxwell hissed back.

Willow pinched the bridge of her nose and growled to herself. It had only been one day and she was already beginning to regret teaming up with that devil of a man. He was a creep, annoying, he insulted her whenever the opportunity presented itself...

Maxwell had similar thoughts about her. She was violent, annoying, and she seemed to look for new ways to insult him. It infuriated him. He never really showed his annoyance towards her though. He would be out of a meat shield if he got angry and chased her off now. As much as they both hated each other, they wanted to leave so badly that they had no choice but to put up with each other. Even if it was proving infuriatingly difficult.

As the night went on, Willow kept the fire going while Maxwell dozed, staring into the flames. Willow glanced over her shoulder into the darkness. She felt like she was being watched. It was unnerving at night and what Maxwell had said about 'Charlie' didn't help.

"Darn it... How can he be so calm about all this?" Willow muttered to herself, poking the fire with a stick. "He's sooo creepy..."

"I can hear you," Maxwell spoke up, making Willow jump slightly. He was sitting cross-legged with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. His eyes were closed but it was obvious that he wasn't sleeping.

This only made Willow more creeped out. For the rest of the night, she refused to close her eyes longer than the time it to to blink.

Morning came around to mark the beginning of day two of Willow's dealings with Maxwell. She got an early start and sneaked away to look for some berries. She hoped she could catch a rabbit too. She got a bit more than she bargained for though.

A large blue egg on the edge of a grassy plains area caught the pyromaniac's attention. The egg sat in a nest made of what looked like grass and Beefalo hair. A single black feather rested beside the nest. Willow examined the egg closely, tapping on it with her knuckles. It was even bigger up close and it was rather warm. Whatever had laid the egg must have recently been sitting on it.

"I don't know any bird that could lay an egg this big," Willow murmured. "I wonder if Maxwell knows what it is. Maybe I should take it back with me."

There was a sudden loud squawk behind Willow as a tall shadow loomed over her. The girl turned slowly and gazed in surprise at the round black, one-eyed, long-legged bird that towered over her. The bird's big eye glared down in anger.

It's eye suddenly became blood shot and red. It let out a wild shriek and lunged at Willow. She barely managed to dodge, the bird's beak missing her foot by an inch.

She bolted, between the bird's thin legs and towards the camp, as fast as her legs could carry her. The bird pursued her, almost twice as fast as she was. It's long legs carried it farther in a single stride.

"Maxwell! Maxwell!" Willow screamed as the camp came into view. "Some big bird is chasing me! Help!"

Maxwell, wide awake at this time, jumped in surprise when the huge bird came stomping after Willow. He shook his head and sighed, brandishing his Night Sword. "Throw a stick at it or something. Don't just run away!" he grumbled.

In a few minutes, the bird was slain and all it took was one torch, several pecks to the head for both of them, and a few whacks with Maxwell's sword. As the two were cleaning up the mess, Maxwell could have sworn he could hear someone laughing. He knew it wasn't Willow. She hardly ever laughs unless she just set something on fire.

"What was that thing?" Willow griped, picking up a handful of meat to be cooked.

"Pal of mine called it a 'Tallbird'," Maxwell replied, making a face at is now ruined clothes. "They're even worse when there's more than one. You must've gotten too close to its egg."

Willow glanced at Maxwell and noticed the look on his face that asked, 'Well did you?'. She looked up at the sky innocently, not meeting his gaze again. "You think it's gonna rain?" she asked to no one in particular.

Maxwell didn't answer. He simply rolled his eyes and went off to collect firewood.