Chapter Text
We should find you more things to eat.
Wendy stared blankly up at Abigail’s ghostly form hovering over her, the trees visible through her sister’s transparent face. Three days in this strange land and she still wasn’t quite used to that. “Or,” Wendy murmured, “I could lie here until the inevitable occurs.”
Wendy. Abigail huffed, a freezing cold breeze on Wendy’s forehead.
Wendy sighed. “Okay, okay...” She forced herself to stand up and brushed bits of dirt off her skirt, then started off once more through the thick forest. Abigail floated a little higher, in a protective stance over her twin.
Do you have enough twigs for a torch?
“Just about. Though the dark isn’t so bad, you know.”
Abigail turned red and hissed. No! That thing... She wrapped her ghostly arms around herself and shook. I can feel it when it gets dark...not dead, not really alive…it’s weird, and not a good weird. And it’s hungry ...
“I’m not too worried,” Wendy said. “You’re here.”
I can’t always fight the monsters.
Wendy picked a flower and twisted the stem between her fingers until it broke. “Mmm.”
They weren’t having much luck. Wendy’s pocketful of berries was dwindling fast, and flower petals weren’t particularly filling either. As the sky turned a deep red, Wendy felt the gnawing pangs of hunger scratching at her stomach grow stronger. Abigail looked more and more agitated, circling her sister with pale eyes wide and worried.
This isn’t good…
Wendy gnawed at the bark on a twig and made a face. “Probably not particularly nutritious, unless you’re a beaver I suppose.”
Mmm.
Suddenly, a snapping sound rang out. Wendy’s head shot up from the bush she was leaning over, spotting a shadow moving through the thick brush several paces away. Abigail turned deep red and scowled.
Wendy, hide!
“Where?” Wendy hissed under her breath.
Up that tree! Now!
Wendy scrambled up the nearest tree, Abigail following closely. The crunching footsteps got closer, and Wendy held her breath as the mysterious figure emerged from the undergrowth-
Revealing what could only be described as an incredibly awkward looking human man wearing a red vest and carrying a brown bag on his back.
Wendy’s mouth hung open as the man, or what looked very much like a man, glanced around, then set his bag down and took out something dark and leathery that he began to eat.
It’s...a person. Abigail sounded just as shocked as Wendy felt.
“A real person?” Wendy murmured?
Yes! Relief was evident in Abigail’s ghostly wisp of a voice. I can feel it, he’s alive! Not a ghost. We found a person!
“His hair’s weird,” Wendy muttered. The man looked to be all limbs, gangly and strange and covered in dark sleeves. His hair stuck out in strange angles, and he had gaunt, dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in ages. Then again, neither had Wendy.
“Maybe we can snag some of that food if we cause a distraction…”
What!? We can’t steal from him!
“Even if he is human and not a new kind of monster, what makes you think we should trust him?” Wendy countered.
I...I don’t really know. Abigail looked back at the man, who had sat down against a tree a little ways away from them and now appeared to be weaving something with grass. But I have a good feeling about him. I think he can help.
“Hm.” Wendy began to shimmy down the side of the tree, keeping out of the stranger’s sight. Abigail gave her a disapproving look when she picked up a rock, but didn’t stop her from throwing it off to the side. It hit another tree with a solid THUNK!, prompting the man to lift his head in alarm.
“For once,” he muttered in an slightly accented voice, “I’d like to not be attacked for a day.” He picked a large stick off the ground and went off in the direction of the rock. Once he had moved past the bushes, Wendy quickly scrambled out of her hiding spot and threw open the satchel left by the unfinished sheet of woven grass.
Stealing isn’t nice, Wendy , Abigail chided. What would Mama and Papa say? Wendy ignored her.
In the pack were bundles of rope, twigs, and grass, as well as what seemed to be a stack of dried and flattened reeds tied together like a book, with a leathery brown cover. Wendy’s curiosity overtook her and she lifted it out to examine more closely.
Engraved on the front were a few rough slashes in the shape of a ‘W,’ and when Wendy opened the book, she found that the inside pages were filled with a thin, spidery script that appeared to be written in something dark and smeary.
Day 12
I am in an environment much harsher than that to which I am accustomed. Everything here is trying to kill me, or eat me, or... worse. It’s almost as bad as graduate school!
If I am to survive this place, I fear I must resort to dra-
“Um, hello there?”
Wendy glanced up to see the man standing over her with a curious expression on his face. She gasped and dropped the book, scrambling backwards.
“Wait, no, I’m sorry!” the man waved his hands anxiously. “I won’t hurt you, I promise!”
He stepped forward and Wendy scurried back another five feet. The man frowned.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said again. Wendy stared at him blankly. He sighed. “Besides, uh...I don’t think she would let me.”
Wendy glanced up to see Abigail hovering over them, her hands positioned where her hips would be if she was alive.
“So, uh…” The man ran a hand through his mop of dark hair. “What-”
At that moment Wendy’s stomach chose to be extremely impolite.
“Oh!” The man’s eyes widened as Wendy grimaced. “Oh, oh dear, of course…” He reached into the bag and took out a small sack, from which he drew one of the leathery things he had been eating. “Here.”
Wendy stared at it.
“It’s just jerky. You can have it.”
When Wendy didn’t move, the man tilted his head and frowned. “What’s wrong? Do you not eat me-oh, hold on.” He ripped off a piece of the meat and popped it in his mouth. “Look, see? It’s safe to eat.”
Wendy glanced from the offered food to the man’s face, biting her lip. Realization appeared in the man’s eyes.
“Ah. Alright then.” The man pulled a small cloth out of the bag and spread it on the ground, laying a few pieces of jerky on top of it. He then picked up the bag and stepped back several paces.
Wendy glanced back and forth between the man and the food. After seeing that he wasn’t moving, she darted out and snatched up the entire cloth, scarfing down the dry, leathery meat like it was chocolate morsels. She felt Abigail’s spirit calming beside her.
As Wendy was licking her fingers clean, she realized that the man was observing her with a strange expression on his pale face. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared at him challengingly.
“There’s more where that came from, if you’d like,” he said softly, as if talking to a stray kitten. He was sitting on his knees, eye level with Wendy. She blinked.
“...More?” her voice came out a hoarse whisper.
“Yes. Back at my camp, with my friends,” the man said, smiling. “They’re really nice people, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. We’ve got lots of food and firewood, plenty to share.”
As Wendy contemplated the risk versus reward of going with a random stranger she just met in an alien wilderness, Abigail floated over between the two of them, circling the man curiously. He stiffened as she approached, but allowed her to examine him, not moving even when she blew a puff of ghostly wind through his hair.
I like him , she decided. Wendy sighed.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll come with you.”
The man nodded, then gasped and put a hand over his chest. “Oh, where are my manners?” He stood up and bowed. “Wilson Percival Higgsbury, gentleman scientist.”
Wendy hesitated, then got up and nodded back at him. “Wendy Carter.”
Abigail made a motion resembling a curtsey. “And this is my sister Abigail.”
The corners of the man’s eyes crinkled. “Pleased to meet you both.”