The chronicles of Dusty and Dakota.

°•Chapter Two: The Essentials•°

Dusty scurried into his bedroom with the knowledge that time was not on his side; that he and Dakota will have had to have hit the road long before his parents returned. Amongst the scattered array of funky smelling clothes and comic books on the floor, he found what he was looking for; his school bag.

Dashing straight for it, and tripping over his skateboard in the process, he grabbed it and lobbed it upside down. As his books and school supplies came tumbling out of the bag, Dusty winced when one of the heavier textbooks landed precisely on his toes.

When he was sure that the school bag was empty, Dusty looked about the room, thinking to himself what things would go in handy during his and Dakota's journey through the woods. He pulled a thin blanket from his bed and hazaphardly threw it into the backpack.

Next, he went into his parents' bathroom, lobbing some insect repellent cream and a few band aids - in case he got hurt - in with the blanket.

At last, Dusty scurried to the most important stop; the kitchen pantry. This was where Dusty would get the essentials. The necessities. Like the 10-pack box of Twinkies. He shoved it into the backpack, willing it to fit with four cans of Coca Cola a few bags of potato chips that he lumbered in there soon afterwards.

From the doorway, Dusty heard Dakota snort in disapproval. "I tell you, humans were not meant to last."

Oh right; Dakota, Dusty thought, realizing that his very much unwilling companion would need sustenance as well. He opened the fridge and swept every kind of fruit he could find into the backpack. He tossed some water bottles in there too, for good measure.

Maybe if the horse eats, he'll stop being so grumpy. Dusty thought.

"Hurry up, Dustin." Dakota said. "We must make haste while the sun shines. The forest is a terrible place to be during nighttime."

Dusty frowned at the foreboding tone of Dakota's words. The horse sounded like he was speaking from experience, and that made a shiver run down Dusty's spine.

"Pfft." He scoffed, hiding his fear with a show of bravado. "What's the worst that could happen? A few mosquito bites here and there, a couple run-ins with some critters?

"Please, Dakota, stop making a fool of yourself. There is absolutely nothing to fear in the forest at nighttime. You'll see. Besides, if it makes your delicate, fragile little heart feel better, I'm finished packing anyways. Let's go."

Dusty squeezed past Dakota in the doorway, laughing inwardly at the frosty glare that the horse was giving him. Dakota's hooves clattered against the tiled floor as he left after Dusty. Once they were both out, it seemed as though the latter was hesitant in going forth into the woods.

"Dustin..." Dakota said, breaking Dusty out of his trance.

"Yes?" Dusty replied, his voice shaky with fear as he stood in one spot, realizing how truly bad of an idea it was to leave his home.

"Kindly look through the kitchen window, please." Dakota calmly asked of him.

"...what?" Dusty, perplexed, looked through the window and into the house. "...why?"

"Do you see that mantel piece above the countertop? That deer that your father shot down, beheaded, and stuffed with cotton?" Dakota asked. Dusty gulped and nodded.

"That is what those vermin fairies will do to you sister if we do not move now!"

That certainly got Dusty moving. Soon enough, he had forgotten all about his trepidation and was traipsing towards the forest's lining with Dakota by his side. "That visual was not necessary!" He complained, giving his companion the stink-eye.