Sole Memorial

Prologue: Re-

Author, here. I'd like to thank my sister for her minimal editing of the work, my friend from work for reading the snippets I wrote, and myself for keeping this idea in my head and letting it fester into this jumble of words. Hope you enjoy!

Now, uh... Gonna leave this empty stage...

Disclaimer: Do I look like I created these characters? No? Good, because I didn't. Pixar/Disney owns them.

Fading music rode wind to a quiet clearing, a campsite decorated in colorful caravans. From red to black to green and blue, they each reflected the moonlight as gems would any light. Cheery and colorful as the sight was, it wasn't so for the owners of the caravans. Solemnly, a group of nine drifted to the camp, burnt, bruised or simply disgruntled. In the distance behind them stood a magnificent red and white tent, but there was no music nor laughter.

Evidently, they were performers who had just finished a lackluster day. Manto the Magnificent might even call it disastrous, and it was, seeing as he was still picking crushed fruit from his graying hair. He felt his wife, his lovely assistant Gypsy, take his hand and he smiled appreciatively. Her undying support was always welcome, especially after a yet another day as a failure in entertainment.

As the group prepared to part once they passed the first caravan, Gypsy jumped. Everyone looked to her when they noticed her—and Manny's—sudden stop. The feathers in her hair stood upright as she pointed to a motionless mass lying next to the fire pit. "There's someone there!" she whispered, and they all gathered to take a look.

In the light of the full moon which turned the world silver, there was no mistaking the broken boy lying face-up in the middle of their camp. Upon closer inspection, it was clear he wore some rather fine clothes, based solely on their long and flowing shape. He was also strangely clean, aside from the dirt clinging to his outline, and no one could deny he had been placed there rather than dropped or dragged. On the other hand, he was also covered in bruises and scratches, a canvas full of errors.

"Oh, Dim, don't look!" Rosie covered the eyes of the curious rhinoceros, leading him away as quickly as she could. In the quiet of the scene, her six legs made rhythmic taps on the dirt ground.

Next, Francis circled the unconscious teenager, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed. "Somebody did a number on this kid." He pushed away two curious small men, Tuck and Roll, both of whom chattered in a language none of them knew, as they got a little too close. "Hey, back off! Give him some space."

When he himself stepped back, Slim stood in his place. He knelt down and then bent his torso even further to get a closer look. The tower of a man raised an eyebrow at the contradiction before him. "Do you think someone dropped him off here?"

"Abandoned?" gasped Gypsy. Her hand tightened its hold on her husband's, and soon she was the one being comforted. "Oh, the poor thing!"

"Vat if his parents are looking for him?" Heimlich asked from the side, shuffling around the others to get a better look.

"Heimlich is right. We cannot assume he doesn't have loved ones out there," Manny acknowledged. Indeed, the boy was dropped there, but anyone could have done it. They had to choose their next actions wisely. "We should look for his family."

Francis crossed his arms, eyes furrowed. "P.T. won't let us take a day off to help some kid, and tomorrow is our last day!"

"Then we must start tonight."

"And if he's not from around here? Or if he doesn't have any family?"

"P.T. will never take him in!" Slim fretted.