Over the Garden Wall: Gender-Bended

Chapter 2: Hard Times at the Huskin' Bee

Morning came with a fresh helping of stereotypical autumn. In the light of day, you could see the breath-taking colors of fall in the dancing leaves, catch a glimpse of a flock of migrating geese overhead, hear the sweet song of a cicada, and see wild turkeys wandering about. Unfortunately, Wirt and Gret were too preoccupied to notice. Wirt was being a worry wart and wondering about finding a town. Gret was being goofy and was filling her cheeks with air and forcing it out with her fingers making a pfft noise.

"It's almost morning," Wirt muttered. "We should've reached a town by now." She asked Gret, "This is the direction the woodswoman told us to go, right?"

Gret continued to play with her face. "Pfft! Haven't you heard anything I've been saying? For the past couple of hours, I've been saying, pfft, pfft, PFFT!" She repeated the action.

"Welp, that settles it," Wirt announced. "I'm walking ten feet ahead of you."

"Help!" Gret heard a voice call. "I'm stuck!"

"Huh? I hear something!" Gret exclaimed.

"It's probably nothing," Wirt answered casually, not bothering to look ten feet behind her. "Hey, look!" She saw a sign nailed to a tree. "Pottsfield: 1 mile," she read. "A town! Let's go this way." Maybe once they reached a town they could call their parents or get a ride home.

"Okay," Gret said. "Let's go this way." She walked off in the opposite direction. Wirt groaned and slowly followed. Gret was following the direction that she thought the voice of the being in distress had come from. "Hello? Hello-o-o."

"Hey, you!" the voice called.

"Who, me?" Gret asked and turned to face a bush.

"Yeah, you."

Gret peered into the bush. Inside, caught in a small thorny bramble was the bluebird from the night before. "It's you again. I'm stuck," the bird said exasperatedly. "Help me out and I'll owe you a favor."

"I get a wish?" Gret asked excitedly.

"No, no," the bluebird explained, "I'm not magical. I'll just do you a good turn."

"Can you turn me into a tiger?" Gret asked hopefully.

"Um... no. I just said I'm not magical."

"It doesn't have to be a magic tiger."

"Gret," Wirt interrupted, "Stop talking to a bush."

"Okay," Gret said, reached in, and pulled out the bird.

The bird flapped its wings and hovered about Wirt's eye level. "Thanks. I owe you a favor. So, um, you're two lost kids with no purpose in life, right?"

"Uh-huh," Gret agreed happily.

"Humph!" Wirt frowned.

"How about I take you to Adelaire of the pasture? The good wise man of the woods. He can help you get home," the bird offered.

"No," Wirt contradicted. "Magic talking bluebirds... taking us to fairy magi... in the mysterious... I'm going to Pottsfield." She turned and walked away.

"Yeah, we're going to Pottsfield!" Gret agreed and followed. She motioned at the bird to follow. "You should come with us."

"What about the favor?" the bird asked.

"I'll think of my wish later."

After a few minutes of strolling, the foursome emerged from the woods and saw some fenced-off pumpkin patches and well-trod dirt roads and paths. Pottsfield was close.