PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter XXVI Part II

"Huh... why do you even bother studying magic? It all seems so easy," came the peppy voice of that one poor corgi Dell had hurt. As awful as Coco was, she didn't know if falling in love with her was a crime or not, but... something about a dog loving the cat, deeply hurt Dell to think about. She still genuinely felt bad for the injuries she had inflicted, and her stomach churned remembering the burnt, mangled mess she had last seen the corgi's head in.

"Well, I guess this isn't gonna take us as long as I thought." Her heart fluttered, she instinctively smiled at Cujo's voice, and tears came to her eyes imagining his cheery face, his amazing smile, his droopy-looking ears.

Then, a biting poison struck the terrier. There was a sighing, "Well gee, don't I feel appreciated." Coco's voice wiped the smile off of Dell's face, and her stomach churned with the thoughts of that cat raising Cujo's limp body into the air, then chucking him across their classroom like he was trash.

"I'm just a little upset we didn't do this in the first place," Brownie scoffed, "Or that you refuse to let anyone else use your magic."

"Wuh! Magic is not as easy as you think it is!" Coco abruptly exclaimed back. "You can't just draw a circle, it has to be your own personal rune! You don't want just anyone to flick their wand around and open it up!"

"G-Guys, please don't fight," came the more immature voice of that one red dog Dell had encountered earlier along the road. "You're b-both really smart, you don't need to p-prove it, please?"

There was a sigh from Coco. "Olive, we're not fighting, Brownie's just being dumb... er, like the good kind of dumb- the funny kind."

"Brownie isn't d-dumb," Olive whined.

"I said the good kind!"

"Heh," Cujo spoke up, "I'm not opposed to a little banter, but last time you did something like that it got a lil... awkward?"

Brownie blew air out of her nose. "Oh come on, it's not like we started making out or something."

"M-Making out?!" the red dog stuttered.

The door to the bedroom suddenly cracked open as a small silence descended on the conversation downstairs. The creaking was barely audible as Dell first saw Patches' fluffy black and white paw, then his face peer out past the frame. His grey eyes immediately caught hers, and his ever-present frown turned into a sickeningly pleasant smile. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms at the dalmatian of her ire. He winked all sly, then took a step outside of the doorway.

"What are you doing?" Dell whispered.

Patches put a paw up to his mouth, "Shhhhh." A glint flashed in his other paw, and Dell realized he had his kitchen knife drawn- still caked with dried blood. From her angle, she couldn't see into the room, but knew for a fact there was some poor dog or cat in there that was another victim of Patches' regular hostage scenario gambit. She cringed, but if Coco was willing to work with her, that wouldn't be a problem.

"Into the bathroom," Patches whispered, "I just want to have a word before you go down."

"You can tell me here," she said, looking very poignantly at the knife.

Patches scoffed, smiling. "Dell, you know I'm not going to hurt you."

Dell turned her glare to him. "I don't believe you."

Patches grimaced as if Dell had just stained his freshly ironed uniform. "Fine," he hissed, reaching into his left side vest pocket and drawing forth Mitt's wand, ribbons and all, "I just wanted you to take this."

Although Dell immediately thought the worst was about to happen, Patches instead drew the thing out from his pocket by the head, holding the handle towards her. The terrier's eyes cocked, before darting to the kitchen knife, trying to make sure this wasn't some sort of feint to make her easier to stab. Once she had observed his paws for a good couple of seconds, Patches lightly shook the wand, causing the ribbons to flow about in the air, and the muffled bell to rattle. She was incredulous as she took the rod into her own paws quickly and quietly, studying it briefly before Patches caught her attention again.

"Just, go with the plan." Patches stared right at Dell as he kept his right paw in his pocket, gripped around the knife, and his left limply stayed by his side.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"Because I want you to trust me," Patches tilted his head away from Dell suddenly, lowly chuckling in a nervous manner as the corners of his grey eyes started to seemingly tear up. It almost sounded like he was about to cry.

"... Okay, we can talk in the bathroom."

"No, it's fine. You're right, we can't trust one another, but we have to at least work with each other." Patches faced the door, beginning to open it. He turned his head to the side, just enough so that Dell could see his mouth, and he could see her out of the corner of his eyes. "You really could screw me over here, but I need you. I just wanted to tell you that... I'm sorry for what I've done to you, and I know giving you the wand doesn't nearly make up for every awful thing... I'm just... sorry. I'm so, so sorry." She thought she saw a tear welling up in the corner of his eye.

She examined the wand, looking over its every crevice, finding each bump and lump that had formed from the time it had spent in the dalmatian's hands. It was so intensely beaten its head had been glued back onto the handle at one point, and the wood itself didn't seem right to her, like it had been slashed at and worn. Dell wanted to bring the subject up, but the creeping uncanny sensation told her that the dog was up to something. Anxiety rose in her chest as she thought of potentially provoking him.

Dell didn't respond, giving ample time for the dalmatian to open the door back up. She could hear something banging around inside, and a young muffled voice murmuring cries for help. She couldn't ignore the sounds, and it made her look up from the rod, then frown at Patches. "Just don't hurt them."

Patches gave a curt, downtrodden smile that Dell winced at. "I want to promise you that, Dell, but we both know it's up to you."