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Wednesday had never noticed how small her hands were, she’d never even given them much thought until she sat staring at them, listening to the occasional wind howl through the trees. The cold stung her fingertips and she curled them inward, exhaling a long breath as she raised her eyes to the snowy landscape and the never-ending balsam firs that sat baren in uneven rows as far as she could see.
“You should have seen it all a few months ago, Wednesday,” Enid told her excitedly. “Before it really started getting cold, they were beautiful. Of course, I was a werewolf then, so it’s totally possible my eyesight was affected by that – I think I see colors differently? Not quite like a dog, but it’s the same principle, which is weird to think about, looking at everything now.”
“Anatomically, you’d have the same number of cones in your retinas, but they would have simply enhanced, the way all of your other senses do when you transform,” Wednesday responded quietly. “I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate the beauty in the same way as you would have.”
Enid moved around her, footsteps light over the snow in the boots she wore, almost as if she were dancing circles around Wednesday, seated on a log. Not slowing, Enid allowed, “Oh, that’s good to know – maybe that’s why I don’t need glasses. Enhanced…”
“That’s not how it works, Enid,” Wednesday huffed. “It would only enhance the vision you already have, which is perfect.”
“Oh,” the girl repeated, nodding and pushing her bottom lip out as she shrugged. “Well, either way, it was pretty neat. And there are maple trees all over – I figured out pretty quick I could slash a tree and have a snack if my blood sugar was running low. I know my instincts are supposed to kick in, but it’s not actually that easy to look a moose in the eye and kill it.”
Wednesday could feel her shake away the thoughts. Could see the way her long coat swished as she did another half circle before stopping and turning in the other direction. Like a puppy craving her attention. She looked up at her, at the rags she wore and the dirt smudged face that smiled back down at her.
“You should rest,” Wednesday told her.
“Right,” she nodded, “Fester’s gone to fetch me rescue.” Enid howled.
“You’re insufferable,” she grumbled in response with a roll of her eyes.
“Oh, hush,” Enid scolded, coming to her side to fall onto the log, leaning into her warmly, head tilting into her shoulder. “You know you missed me.”
Wednesday remained still, eyes closing against the words. Too much truth in them. Enough that she nodded and breathed, “Yes, I missed you, Enid.”
“I’m just glad I was able to get back to my human body before you found me,” Enid sighed before laughing to herself. “I’m not sure how I would have fit into your uncle’s sidecar as a gigantic wolf.”
Her smile was involuntary, imagining the scenario before allowing herself to lean her head into Enid’s, listening to her exhale with relief. “How did you find these clothes?”
“Abandoned homeless encampment,” she told her simply. “I’m really sorry, between months without a bath and all of the God-knows-what that is all over me, and then these clothes, I must smell terrible.”
“I wasn’t going to point it out,” Wednesday teased, “But yes, it’s horrendous.”
“When we get back to your place, maybe I could have a bubble bath.” She sat up straight. “Wait, do you have like goth bubble bath? Have you ever had a bubble bath, Wednesday?”
Meeting her bright eyes, Wednesday nodded. “Nothing scented or colored, but yes, as a child. I tried to drown Pugsley in it while playing witch. Mother intervened.”
“We should have a bubble bath when we get back,” Enid told her firmly. “Not,” she added, “Together, but, you should indulge and then I can indulge and then we’ll be properly indulged and smell way better than piss and rot. OMG, I can do my hair, it must look like a rat’s nest.”
Wednesday peered at her, head shaking ever so slightly. “You look fine, Enid.”
“But going back to civilization, after so long… wait, are people even looking for me, Wednesday, like, besides you?” She paused, eyes widening as she stared in contemplation at her oversized boots in the snowy ground. “Were my parents looking for me?”
Bowing, Wednesday nodded. “There was a bounty.”
“On my head?” Enid shrieked. “My parents put a bounty on my head?”
“There were concerns – an Alpha in werewolf form for too long would start to go feral. It had been three months and historically…”
“Was it at least a lot?” Enid asked sheepishly. She looked to Wednesday, tilting in to try to catch her eyes as they drifted back to staring at the floor.
Wednesday uttered, “I’ve had outfits that cost more.”
“Cheap bastards,” Enid huffed. She shrugged then, nudging Wednesday with her elbow before leaning into her and then swaying away with a smile, “Worked out though – just means you were the one who found me, which I would have preferred anyways.”
Looking away, Wednesday nodded at nothing and then she looked back, meeting Enid’s curious gaze. She was still then, staring at Wednesday with a knowing look as Wednesday asked softly, “What is it?”
“It’s not your fault,” Enid told her gently. “I know you tried your best.”
Grimacing, Wednesday began to remind, “Trying your best means you’re planning on failing…”
“And letting me know in advance,” Enid finished for her with a smirk, reaching to run a hand along her braid, holding it for a moment before letting it fall back into place at her chest. “You didn’t fail, Wednesday, I just didn’t make it.”
Wednesday closed her eyes and re-opened them to reality.
The wind howled through the trees and a few feet away sat a charred pile of wood, half-covered in snow, that had gone cold days ago. Wednesday gripped tightly with burning fingers into the ragged and torn fabrics she held, slipping off the log to fall into the ground so that Enid lay against her chest, far too cold and still. And her hands were too small to hold her properly. Stupid small incapable hands, Wednesday thought irrationally.
Fester’s footsteps moved towards her quietly and he cleared his throat, telling her, “Rescue’s only a few minutes away, they said they’d take her body to the local morgue for her parents to identify.”
Nodding, she clenched her teeth, watching the blonde hair with its wisps of pink and blue fluttering into her line of sight. Wednesday tucked her face into her neck and inhaled deep enough to find that small trace of Enid left underneath it all, something light and floral Wednesday would tell anyone who listened was revolting.
A sweetness that would haunt her like the lingering ghost dancing about her subconscious leaving trails of colorful shadows. A lingering psychic scar, as Enid had once told her, the smallest remnant of her friend to keep her company until they met again at the end of her days.