"Father, what have you done?"

Pitch started sweating "It...isn't my fault!"

Mother Nature glared at him, not convinced. She turned to her grey-pigmented Winter, with his glowing yellow eyes full of cruelty and madness, shaking with excitement as he toyed with a Spring fey, using the shadows to trap the creature while he spent five minutes removing the creature's wings.

Pitch gulped as black and white sand changed the fey to a fey fearling, and his eyes could not meet his daughter's.

"I really had nothing to do with this. Yes I have been looking for the next in line for my legacy. Yes, at several points have I considered Frost as the ideal one to fill the role. I admit this freely and with no regrets. However surely you know that I have, in not-so-clear a manner, changed."

Mother looked at her Winter, who had begun scaring all the fey who came across him, and grit her teeth.

"So you say, and so I thought."

His cackling disturbed her, and she bound him to a chair with lightning bonds, to wich he struggled and hissed and begged his Master to save him.

"How then, did he end up your servant?"

Pitch hung his head.

"We have been scaring together. He has helped me, as you know, and to be fair it was his idea. I engulfed him in shadows and sand, and he and I worked as a team to frighten those that begged for a scare."

"Did you put restraints on your element?" The question was accusatory, the tone sharp. Pitch cringed and said bitterly.

"No."

She sighed, looking again at the winter child, who still hissed and spat at the bonds holding him, his yellow eyes blazing defiantly.

"I thought as much. Father, you are the Nightmare King. Fix him. If you cannot reverse this in four months..."

Her eyes filled with tears as she stroked the cheek of the raging, snarling boy whose grey skin felt cold, a creepy, clammy, impure cold, and dirty to the touch.

"My Winter will be lost to us and MiM forever. He will be yours for all time."

"But I don't want him! Not anymore. Not like this!"

She backhanded him then roared "THEN CURE HIM!"

Pitch enveloped Jack in shadow, then disappeared, his shuddering heard by his daughter, who dropped to her knees and began to weep.

"Winter...what have you become?"

ROTG

Unfortunately, Pitch lost track of his Nightmare Prince as soon as he entered his realm. This was not necessarily a bad thing. Frost could not escape this dimension without Pitch's permission, and for the moment, Pitch had to concentrate on preparing himself for the Draw.

The Draw was not used often, because once he chose a fearling he was loath to reverse the process.

But this was different.

This time he hadn't made the descision himself.

This time he would reverse the transformation.

All he needed was time to prepair.

Pitch sat down and began to focus intensely, finding the source of Frost's corruption and trying to draw it out. It would be simple. Painful fopr the boy, but simple. Now if only Frost would stay put...

"Master?"

He ignored the youth, concentrating Where is your core, boy?

"Master!"

Pitch growled out a "What?!"

"I'm bored."

Oh no.

Heck no.

Not those wortds.

Pitch sighed and gulped "Entertain yourself then!"

"But it's boring here!" the prince whined "I want to hear screaming! I want to make more fearlings! I want to spread terror! I want to go out. Out. OUT!"

Before Pitch could stop him, the youth had conjured up a Nightmare made of snow and shafow, hopped on, and galloped away, his eerie, disturbing, and haunting cackle echoing throughg the Realm as he left.

Pitch cursed himself.

":I barred the realm from the Guardians. Pity that he no longer is considered pure! Dag nabbit...FROST!"

He summoned Onyx and cantered after the wayword youth, satill cursing his rotten luck.

"Get back here before you catch attention! Oh terrific, if MiM doesn't send the Guardians after me for this, it will be a miracle. FROST!"