The Stray

2-26: (Unfortunately) Q & (Regrettably) A

...A bad idea, that Timothy was already regretting. <<"...So, there y' have it. Your problem oughta be solved, and if it ain't, a little rock salt'll do it.">> He tried to convince himself his mouth was dry from talking, and not from his frazzled, surrounded nerves.

Remind me why we didn't skip town, Mandy? The dagger grumbled back from his hip as maybe the tenth farmer came up to shake his hand. The tenth of a whole crowd, that was slowly surrounding him!

"I didn't think there was witches 'round these parts!" A tiny she-mouse was tryin' to stun his hands with how hard she was shakin' em. She was plumb adorable— it was refreshin' to be a head taller than someone for once— but she also had a cavalry saber taller than her strapped to her back! "Where'd you even come from?"

"You definitely ain't from 'round here." A raccoon woman frowned.

"I, er—"

"Ain't you a little young for a witch?" An old, scowly bulldog grumbled. "The wrinkles make the witch, y'know."

"I'm actually—"

"That's the wizard, gramps!" The bulldog's granddaughter(?) swatted his arm. "The wizard!"

"Same thing!" A possum kid scoffed nearby.

"It ain't!"

"Is so!"

...So things were going great. He didn't have no one to blame but himself, though. What with the hive, V couldn't zactly fly them back to town, and so they'd had to walk back through the farmland. An' that meant, and this was his idea, carrying light spells so's they wouldn't get shot by a jumpy farmer at 200 paces. And they hadn't been, but between the fire they'd caused fighting Pride and their intentionally non-stealthy approach...

"You're sure the fire's out?" An anxious lookin' crow asked, still floating a bathtub's worth of water over his head.

At least he had good news for this one. "Yeah, we put it out ourselves."

"What kinda 'zample is it to play with fire at a time like this?" A mother bunny clutched her, uh, clutch of littluns to her dress. Aw, frass. He opened his mouth to reply, but got cut off by a chuckling golden retreiver.

"Well it is V." She shrugged with a lazy kinda cheer. "Come on, now." The wolf scowled at her. "What? I didn't say it was a bad thing."

Timothy set his jaw. "Nobody played with fire, ma'ams."

"An' anyway, how else d'you scare off a bad slime?!" A cyan slime holding a bucket of water in its mass piped up. "9/10 slimes agree, it's fire!"

...There'd been a whole crowd waiting for 'em, packin' a loadout of questions and opinions, not to mention actual weapons. And wasn't that just a boot to the head! That's how Timothy got stuck explaining what had happened, alone, before a loose mob of farmers and fluffs. Explainin' was maybe the wrong word, though— it was more like spitting answers at whoever popped up, a veritable shootin' gallery. And only when he could get a word in at all!

At least the hive was safe. Amos took one look at the burned out beehive and starting asking after the bees inside, all concerned and sweet and adorable. Man, it sucked he was straight (and taken, and way outta his league...). Well, he jes' pulled V off with him towards his house. That relief blended in pretty good with the annoyance of being left alone for this!

Mandy clattered in his head, and he had to fight not to scowl in front of the townies. I know it ain't that big a crowd. But come on, I'm surrounded by an armed mob! Not to mention, he looked like he'd had his ass kicked, what with his scorched, grassy, slimy everythin'. "You should see the other guys," Timothy'd told the crowd.