The Twilight Flower

Chapter 2

"GingerBrave?? GingerBrave!" a frustrated voice called out. The cookie peered out from his hiding spot and saw a figure stepping out from the shadows, their wand still glowing with a pulsing blue light. GingerBrave instantly recognized his friend.

"Wizzard Cookie?"

Wizzard spotted him, and he breathed in as his tone turned somewhat calmer, the magic from his wand finally dissipating. "It's you!"

Wizzard Cookie ran towards GingerBrave, his eyes scanning his battered up appearance for a couple seconds. "Geez, you're in rough shape. Not as bad as Strawberry Cookie though, i suppose..." He muttered, shaking his head. GingerBrave felt a wave of both relief and worry at mention of Strawberry's name. "Strawberry Cookie? Where? Is she with you?" He asked, quickly getting up despite the pain that shot through his chest with every movement. He could feel the adrenaline wearing off, leaving him feeling like absolute crap.

Right on que to answer his question, the bushes rustled and Strawberry Cookie stumbled into view. GingerBrave felt a knot form in his stomach as he realized Wizzard Cookie was absolutely right. She had a deep cut on her eye, oozing crimson red jam. It was a horrible scene, and the frantic look on Strawberry Cookie's face made it even worse. GingerBrave rushed to her side, dismissing everything else around him as questions formed in his mind. What happened? What's even going on!?

"Are you... okay?" Is all he could coax out of himself to ask her. Strawberry's breathing was rough, and she was visibly trembling as she tried to steady herself. "Yes... yeah. I-I am... I just need a second." she replied quietly, with a half smile of embarrassment. She slowly lowered herself to the ground, her back against a nearby tree, and closed her eyes. GingerBrave shifted his eyes over to Wizzard Cookie, whom was avoiding looking at them both. GingerBrave knew that Wizzard wasn't one for the sight of blood, so he wasn't entirely surprised that he wasn't looking directly at Strawberry.

"What happened?" he asked, shifting his attention back to her. The realization that the question would come off a little pressuring came a bit too late, and he could tell that the question made Strawberry Cookie uncomfortable, but she seemed willing to share. "I escaped from an oven," she replied. "At first, I thought it was a dream, but when I woke up, I was... here." She finished. So they all had been through similar experiences to end up in this unfamiliar world... somehow. Strawberry began to recall something else, as she spoke again.

"...And in the flames, I saw a cookie, dressed in red, with ice cream cones on her hea—"

"Thats ridiculous." Wizzard Cookie scoffed, cutting off Strawberry Cookie's comment. "What matters is we've found each other. I was almost worried I'd never see any of you again."

As the rain became lighter, the cakehound let out a pitiful whimper, prompting the attention of GingerBrave, Wizzard, and Cookie. They had been so focused on their conversation that they had completely forgotten about the injured beast lying in the mud. GingerBrave walked over to it, the hound carrying a large burn across its flank from the magic Wizzard Cookie had used, and GingerBrave couldn't help but feel a little... guilty. Wizzard drew his staff again, ready to strike if the beast made any sudden moves, but GingerBrave motioned for him to stand down. "You didn't have to hit it that hard, yknow." He scolded.

Wizzard Cookie gave him a completely bewildered stare. (And, rightfully so.) "Are you serious? That thing was about to mangle you to shreds!" He argued. GingerBrave slightly narrowed his eyes at him, not sure if it was even worth the inconvenience arguing with Wizzard Cookie, and eventually made the decision to drop it.

He turned back to face the cakehound, its eyes were round and wide— ears folded back, and its tail was tucked between its legs. What kind of heartless cookie wouldn't melt from that adorable look? The hound struggled to get up from the muddy ground, slipping and sliding in the process. GingerBrave gently reached out and held the creature still, allowing it to regain its footing.

Afterwards, the hound backed away, but did not attack. Perhaps its feeble mind at least understood the precarious nature of their truce. The beast barked in gratitude before bounding away into the underbrush, and GingerBrave looked up at the grey sky and saw that the rain had finally stopped, though the ground was still muddy and slick. He turned to his friends— they all looked exhausted, but Wizzard Cookie was right— at least they were alive.