Traveling Companions

Chapter Two: The Bed

Disclaimer: I do not own Wander Over Yonder. I don't need to own it. I'd just like a third season.

I hope you're enjoying the story so far. The chapters are going to stay fairly short. Little, light adventures of Wander and his hat getting to know each other.

We know Wander already had his hat during his interactions with Major Threat, which I interpret to mean at least a thousand years before, possibly more. That means no orble juice as we know it wasn't invented yet. This makes traveling a little more complicated, as I don't picture Wander with a ship.

Enjoy the next step!

Getting out of the forest took a while. The swat-soldiers must have called for backup. The woods were buzzing with them. Rambler found himself changing direction many times to avoid the searchers. It was late afternoon by the time the trees thinned and gave way to a dirt road bordered by fields. It was a little open for Rambler's tastes at the moment, but as there were no soldiers in sight, he decided to make use of the easier terrain and put some distance between them and their pursuers. Besides, a road had to lead somewhere populated, which was exactly what they needed if they were going to travel off planet. At least there were some hedges he could use for quick cover if necessary.

He adjusted the backpack on his slim shoulders and set off, mindful to keep an eye out for possible hiding places. At the same time, he couldn't help basking in the warm sun and gentle wind. Clathor V was certainly a pleasant place to visit. There were no signs of the civil war that had engulfed this system, at least on the less populated parts of the planet.

As they walked, Rambler talked.

He was used to traveling alone, but that didn't mean he was alone all the time. He was always meeting new and exciting people as he moseyed from planet to planet, and he had picked up an almost endless supply of stories, tales and legends from different worlds. Now he had someone to share those stories with and he was taking full advantage of the opportunity. He hoped he wasn't boring his companion. It was difficult to tell what the hat was feeling. Still, Rambler thought it had perked up a little at his voice. Besides, he couldn't help thinking about the conditions he had found it in. None of the folks there had seemed that interested in telling tales, or in actually talking to the hat at all.

They'd been too busy talking at it.

So he continued, spinning stories about this and that as he walked. He would have pulled out his old banjo and tried out a few songs, but he knew he tended to lose himself in his music, and he really should be keeping some kind of eye out for searchers.

After a few hours, the buildings of a distant city came into view, sticking out over the flat expanse they were traveling through. They seemed to be a combination of low, curved towers and groups of clustered huts of brightly coloured stone. Details resolved themselves as Rambler drew closer; awnings and pennants flowing from the tops of food stalls and open-air shops and the townsfolk moving down the streets and between the buildings. Suddenly Rambler halted, ducking behind one of the outlying houses as he caught sight of a few particularly relevant details. The shadows were lengthening now, and much of the colour was going out of the landscape, but there was a fair amount of light in the city proper, and when he poked his head cautiously out around the side of the house, he could see that the streets were a lot busier than normal.

The city was swarming with swat-soldiers. They moved between the buildings in small groups, clearly in charge from the cowed reactions of the citizens. There was no protesting as they checked barrels and poked their heads into stores and houses. There were even a few flying above the low roofs, checking in chimneys and over fences.

Rambler found himself feeling just a tad dismayed. He hadn't expected quite this vigorous of a reception. Had they figured out which way he was heading, or had they decided to start searching all the nearby cities once they lost him in the forest? Either way, it would make catching a ride off planet significantly more complicated. He pressed himself back to the curved wall of the house to think and became aware of the hat brim drooping down over his eyes. His lips curved into a smile.

"Well," he mused thoughtfully, keeping his voice just above a whisper. "I must admit I didn' expect to see so many new friends. You 'n I've become quite popular fellas, huh?" He waggled his eyebrows playfully. There was less of a curve to the hat brim now. It somehow managed to look deadpan. "It'll be fine," Rambler reassured, still keeping his voice light but quiet. "First thing, we need ta' find somewhere sheltered where we can figure out our next step, and somewhere to rest for the night." He poked his head out again, taking in the darkening streets and bustling soldiers.

At least the night coming on would help a bit. He was pretty sure the soldiers couldn't see well in the dark. They always returned to their barracks once night fell. He could already see the searching starting to slow, many of them congregating in the streets to discuss what they had found, or hadn't found. There might still be patrols tonight; well lit patrols probably, but it should make it easier to get around. Still, they were uncomfortably exposed where they were, and Rambler thought it would be best to find somewhere under cover where they could wait until it was truly night.

Sighting a likely place, Rambler drew in a long breath, pulling the hat down more securely on his head. He ducked out from behind their poor shelter and made for the closest available patch of shadow; the shade of a fence guarding the next house in. He crouched here for only a moment before flitting to the next shadow, then the next, working his way gradually further into town and doing his best to time his movements so that the soldiers were facing away.

It was exhilarating as it always was, but this time Rambler was conscious of the weight on his head, the reminder that he wasn't just risking himself now, but a friend as well. It made him slightly more cautious when he passed a storekeeper whose goods had been spilled over the cobblestones, probably by the soldiers in their hurried search of his shop. The poor shopkeeper was bent double, trying to retrieve the many differently coloured glass marbles which had rolled every which way, and having a difficult job of it despite being aided by his six, purple tentacles.

Rambler felt that familiar pull at his heart, the twitch in his hands and knew he had to help, but maybe, just for once, he could keep it unobtrusive. So, instead of simply diving for the marbles, Rambler crouched down by the side of the booth and worked his way under the hanging cloth. This had the added benefit of allowing him to rescue the marbles the owner couldn't immediately see and Rambler had picked up quite a few of them, surreptitiously sneaking one hand out from under the cloth to return them to their proper bowls at intervals, before he was spotted.

He had just opened his fist, dropping another handful of marbles into the rapidly refilling bowl on top of the counter, when he felt something wrap firmly around his wrist and he was hauled out from under the cloth and hoisted into the air, suspended at the end of a familiar looking purple tentacle. Rambler smiled sheepishly when confronted with the owner's surprised face.

"Need a hand, friend?" he enquired belatedly.

The scream that followed seemed a tad unnecessary, as well as attracting the attention Rambler had been trying so hard to avoid.

The next moment he was thrown. Rambler tucked himself into a fuzzy orange ball, arms clamped tightly over his head. He hit the cobbles of the main street and rolled before stopping. One eye opened, and then the other, and gosh, he didn't remember the street being painted in black and yellow stripes.

Well, apparently it wasn't. As Rambler's vertigo wore off, the unusual paint job resolved itself into a ring of swat-soldiers rapidly closing in around him.

Rambler got to his feet, brushing dust out of his fur carefully. He smiled at the soldiers as they drew ever nearer, blasters coming to bear. He tipped the hat, giving a courteous bow, then he ducked and ran.

He charged through a small gap in the circle and tore down the street at the fastest pace he could muster. Blaster fire sounded immediately behind him, but the shots were fairly wide of him, whether because of the growing darkness or because the soldiers likely had orders to not shoot at his head.

Either way, it was still more heat than he liked upon arriving at a new town. He had to find a way to lose them quickly. He had been hiking all day, and he was already feeling tired before this suddenly became a game of 'catch the nomad.'

Rambler ducked into a dark alley, taking comfort at the way the soldiers immediately balked, hesitating at the edge of the light before plunging after him. It was quite dark off the main road, with no street lights to keep the shadows at bay. Rambler continued running, ducking around garbage cans and other obstacles and turning as many corners as he could. He could hear them following him, although it sounded like they were stumbling over many of the objects he had avoided, and their shouts gradually faded behind him.

They would have to stop soon and retire for the night, he knew but, come morning when they could see again, they would be out in force again to find him, especially now they knew he was somewhere in the city.

At least while it was dark he would have an easier time finding somewhere to spend the night.

He just hoped his friend wasn't too upset at him.

"Well, this would have been nice to know beforehand."

Rambler leaned back against the flour sack he was lounging against. The paper in his hands was difficult to read in the gloom of the storage shed they were sheltering in, but he could make out enough. Besides, he'd seen enough wanted posters in his time to recognize the designs. Certainly, this was one of the more…strongly worded wanted posters he'd had. The huge reward at the bottom was pretty standard though. Rambler squinted, reading again the part outlining punishments for anyone caught harboring the 'dangerous thief.' That explained the shopkeeper's reaction a little better, though Rambler couldn't help wishing he'd been able to finish cleaning up the marbles before being discovered and having to run. At least he was pretty sure he had gotten most of them.

The hat was heavy on his head, and Rambler could almost see the cloud of disapproval flowing from it. He sighed, grin falling a little as he took the rebuke for what it was. He rolled the wanted poster up and stuffed it in his backpack.

"I know, I know," he said after a moment. "It wasn't exactly the safest thing to do, but I gotta help when I see somebody needin'. I couldn't live with myself otherwise." The brim drooped a little in front of his face, as though understanding the unspoken continuation. I'm helpin' you, aren't I? "Besides, we're gonna be fine," Rambler reassured. He took a moment to look around their current hiding place. The shed was small and dusty, filled with sacks and boxes filled with goods of various kinds. "We can rest here for the night, and in the mornin', or maybe a little earlier, while it's still dark, we'll find someone to take us off planet. Once we get to the spaceport I'm sure we'll find plenty of folks bound for all over." He didn't mention how many soldiers were likely to be around in the morning, but he knew they were both thinking about it.

Rambler shrugged the thought off along with his backpack. He would deal with tomorrow when it came. It had been a rich, full day, and all he wanted to do now was sleep. His head was heavy and he couldn't help yawning as he opened the flaps on his pack and reached inside. He really must have been tired, because he had been rooting through the contents of his backpack for a full minute before he realized his sleeping bag wasn't inside and remembered why.

"Right, no sleeping bag," he mused to himself, sitting back again on his heels. He shrugged again. It wasn't a big deal. He'd certainly slept without it before, and he could do it again. The night was chilly, but the shed's walls provided protection from the wind, and the flour sacks would be somewhere relatively soft to stretch out on. Rambler closed the bag again, placing it beside himself as he curled up on the sack he'd been leaning against. Finally he removed the hat, placing it carefully next to him on his makeshift bed.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered, already feeling sleepy despite the cold air that blew in tiny gusts through the cracks in their shelter. "I'll figure out somethin' in the morning." He gave the crown of the hat a gentle pat and settled down, arms wrapped around himself and legs drawn in close to preserve his body heat. "Goodnight." His eyes drifted closed, breathing evening out in sleep, so he didn't see the slight downward tilt of the brim.

It was sometime later, still too dark to be anything but true night. Rambler was still half asleep, and all he knew was that he was cold. The temperature must have dropped. Rambler felt his teeth chatter together from the force of his shivers. He felt around drowsily for the sleeping bag that he must have wriggled out of somehow during the night. His questing fingers touched something made of cloth. It seemed to be a large sack of some kind. It was soft and warm, and he slipped inside the opening without thinking, snuggling down inside it until only his head was exposed.

Finally warm, Rambler felt himself sinking back into sleep. Whatever this was it was very comfortable. He felt almost like comforting arms were wrapped around him. A smile slipped across his face as awareness left him.

He slept soundly for the rest of the night.

Thanks for reading!

Hmmmm, I wonder what he was sleeping inside at the end of the chapter…

I hope you are all enjoying the story so far. This is a bit of a different type of story from anything I've written before, so I hope the style I'm going for is working.

I am also trying to keep Wander in character as much as possible, while communicating that it is over a thousand years ago, and he was probably a little different. I feel like he might be a little more careful before meeting Sylvia. When he travels with her in the show, he is able to follow his impulses and be more daring because she is there to help and him and get him out of any trouble he gets himself into. He is also pretty focused on protecting the hat right now, so that helps as well.

Next update will probably be the next chapter of Shades of Self, then likely this story again.

See you all soon!