"What's a washing machine?"

She was greeted by a very loud squeal.

This was certainly a very odd person- they reminded her of Roxie, when she was even smaller, and they did sound pretty young…

Wait. Was this a small? All signs were certainly pointing in that direction. She had missed smalls, even though this particular small was quite grabby. She would, however, love if this small would stop crushing her half to death.

As he sits, reading, there is a faint pull - somewhere off in the forest, between here and the swamp. For the most part, he does his best to ignore it. Not his problem.

Of course, a shadowy little figure comes running in, shouting something about nooses and patrols; more likely than not, their companion had gotten caught in one of the many hanging about the forest. With a sigh, he rises to follow.

The little tug is still there when he gets back, and won’t go away. If anything, the source is closer now - just a ways above him, in fact. Not-so-quiet conversation drifts in from outside, until finally, a voice speaks up, its owner having abandoned their post.

Snarling under his breath at this persistent annoyance, Snatcher closes his book and rises from his chair.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“… and that is Cygnus.” He points out a crosslike formation to his little feline audience, tracing great wings and a swooping neck. “They say a great king was once good friends with a man named Phaethon, a child of sun god Helius. One day, Phaethon insisted he be allowed to drive Helius’ solar chariot to prove his relation to the sun, but couldn’t control the horses and was struck down by Zeus to prevent the Earth from being burned up.

“The king grieved for many long years, and the gods tried to ease his sorrow by turning him into a swan, but even then the king remembered his friend’s death, and would avoid the sun’s warmth because of it.”

For what must be the fourth or fifth time that night, Red stifles a yawn in his sleeve before resuming his search.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

There. Near the top of his tree, perched on one of the larger branches, a couple of souls. He sneers to himself, circling his way up the trunk as little more than a spot of shadow; just who do these intruders think they are, not only getting so deep into the forest without hitting any of his traps, but climbing up his tree?!

The spirit winds his way towards the end of the branch, paying little mind to whatever his newest victims are chattering about until thorny vines of shadow spring up around them. A startled cry and a flash of red as one poor sap falls from the tree branch, then his shadowy pocket dimension creeps into existence, catching the figure after a few feet.

“AAHAHAHAHAHA! FOOLS! DID YOU REALLY THINK I WOULDN’T NOTICE YOU? I–”

Ignoring the fool who fell for the moment, his gaze falls upon the soul still sitting on the branch, only to find a cat - or, at least, what looks like a cat.

What?

Squinting, he moves closer to the tiny thing, trying to pinpoint the off-ness of it.

When Red finishes his tale and yawns yet again, Ivy pulls herself away from these musings in concern. “You seem sleepy. Maybe we should get down from the tree? It would be bad if you fell off of it in your sleep. You could get hurt.”

Her question goes unanswered, however, because no sooner does the cat voice these thoughts the two are interrupted, and Red falls from the tree.

Normally, Ivy would be quite concerned with her friend falling from the tree. However, she was currently focusing most of her attention on the giant purple noodle ghost that had come out of nowhere, yelled at them for about five-elevenths of a second, and was now staring at her as if absolutely perplexed.

“I'm a cat!” Maybe Snatcher couldn't see her properly? Some people were very nearsighted, and this noodle ghost did seem quite tall.  She should probably get closer to his face, so he could look at her properly.

Moving quickly, and in an effort to be helpful, Ivy proceeds to climb her way up Snatcher, coming to a stop upon his shoulder, and clinging onto it with her claws in a concerted effort not to fall off. “See? Cat. My name is Ivy, by the way, and my friend is Red. He's helping me find my small. I found him on the ground, and he's like Spiderman. You know, with the swinging around? It's pretty neat. Who are you? Do you live here?”

She was greeted by a very loud squeal.

This was certainly a very odd person- they reminded her of Roxie, when she was even smaller, and they did sound pretty young...

Wait. Was this a small? All signs were certainly pointing in that direction. She had missed smalls, even though this particular small was quite grabby. She would, however, love if this small would stop crushing her half to death.

She was greeted by a very loud squeal.

Red flinches rather violently away from the touch, images of grabbing hands and ice-cold shackles vivid in his mind as jolts upright to find the source—

… only to find a cat. A talking cat. He blinks a bit at the little feline, frantic breaths slowing as the lack of danger processes.

Surely he must be hallucinating.

A long moment passes before the words register and instinct kicks in. It’s generally considered impolite to just sit and stare when asked a question, after all.

“Okay. Am I okay. I… No. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” He’s shivering again, even though the forest around him is plenty warm. Hasn’t been okay since… Whatever happened, happened. Since he woke up, really.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady nerves frayed anew.

Ivy tilts her head, thinking for a moment. “Well, I think she said a few scathing things about therapy animals, and stuff. I didn’t really pay too much attention to her, cause some people are just mean. Maybe that’s why she didn’t like me?”

Jade was kind of a jerk, true, but she had never done anything to Ivy before, at least that she could remember, so the chances of Jade having anything to do with this were low. Maybe she had just been spacing out and wandered through a portal, or something? A weak explanation, sure, but Ivy didn’t really have a better one.

When Red mentioned his strings, Ivy tilted her head. “Strings? Like…. grappling hook strings? You know, those things that have hooks on the end and you make them go, and they shoot into the sky and pull you behind them? My small and I read a book with those in them, once. And magic is easy, don’t worry! You just close your eyes, and reach for what you’re looking for, like Roxie did.”

Ivy stopped for a moment, trying to recall what it was like when Roxie first started using magic. “Sometimes feeling strong emotions makes it easier. Like when Jade was first teaching my small to do magic! She would do things that made her upset, and then Roxie would instinctually use her magic. One time Jade trapped me in a metal locker and made Roxie bust me out. It was scary.”

She seemed to think that was perfectly normal behavior, there.

Red’s heart sinks just a bit; this really doesn’t look good. There had been a faint hope, that perhaps it was simply a matter of low patience and someone acting rashly, but… This seems personal. He allows a sad smile, praying Ivy won’t see the epiphany in his eyes, the sudden tension in his posture. “Perhaps you’re right; sometimes, people are just mean because they can be.”

The change in subject is a welcome distraction, though… grappling hooks that pulled one along? His head lolls to the side as he ponders the idea, trying to settle the unease that’s come over him; the only grappling hooks he’s ever known of are the sort one threw and pulled themselves up with.

“I suppose they could be used as such, but…” He pauses. “From what I saw, these strings were just… strings.” Ah, yes, very eloquent.

The pit in his stomach returns at the mention of ‘Jade’ again, and sinks further as Ivy recounts her “teaching” methods. Strong emotions and magic make sense, he supposes, but to force them? It’s everything he has not to clench his fists, to snarl and bark and curse, do something about the emotions roiling in his chest.

… until Ivy mentions the locker.

The nauseated feeling sharpens into something white-hot, and for the second time in fewer than as many hours, Red is shaking again. His expression darkens, and his chest starts to ache; is he even breathing?

He gives a quiet sigh to try and alleviate some of the tension washing over him, to no avail. A second attempt sees no more success than the first.

Maybe he didn’t like the idea of being trapped? That was understandable; she didn’t either. Who would? Maybe… maybe Red would feel a little bit better if she could reassure him that she was fine?

“She… Jade put me in a locker and made Roxie get me out! But it’s fine, I promise! I didn’t get hurt badly or anything, even though it was scary to be in it, and it worked. Roxie did get me out of the locker.”

Ivy paused, noticing the strings Red had summoned. “I mean, I didn’t like it, but it really did help her, and you getting upset about that happening just now got you to summon your strings, so it really was for the best. Jade might be mean, but she’s not evil, and if it’s for Roxie, I promise I don’t mind being a little uncomfortable.”

She wouldn’t want to be selfish and complain about the experience, because Jade’s teaching methods did seem to work, and Roxie was much better at using her magic now.

Ivy decided that she should probably switch the subject, seeing as this one was upsetting Red quite a bit, and he seemed to like talking about the strings.

“Hey, since your strings are here now, maybe you can try to use them to do that grappling thing. Or swing on them like Spider-Man or something! That’s a guy in stories. He’s cool and also he swings around places on spiderwebs. You could try doing that!”

Red flinches rather violently away from the touch, images of grabbing hands and ice-cold shackles vivid in his mind as jolts upright to find the source—

… only to find a cat. A talking cat. He blinks a bit at the little feline, frantic breaths slowing as the lack of danger processes.

Surely he must be hallucinating.

A long moment passes before the words register and instinct kicks in. It’s generally considered impolite to just sit and stare when asked a question, after all.

“Okay. Am I okay. I… No. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” He’s shivering again, even though the forest around him is plenty warm. Hasn’t been okay since… Whatever happened, happened. Since he woke up, really.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady nerves frayed anew.

Red’s joke does indeed fall flat, Ivy not really getting it. This was mostly because he was inhuman enough looking that Ivy just sort of… bought that his legs detached themselves and ran away. She had been around enough magic in her time to decide to take most of these things at face value.

The little cat’s ears droop slightly in disappointment when her offer is refused- she hadn’t quite expected him to accept, but it would have been nice. He hadn’t refused in general, though, so maybe that was hope for the future.

However, Ivy perks up again at the mention of her small. The cat always relished a chance to talk about her small. “Mhm! My small! Her name is Roxie. She’s a poet and she can do magic. I’m very proud of her! I like to sleep on her chest at night, so I can keep her safe. I’ve been with her since I was a small!”

The guilt spikes somewhat at the subtle droop of her ears. Oh. She’d really been eager about that, hadn’t she?

At least she seems happy enough to talk about her ‘small’ - a child, if he understands correctly. The mention of poetry catches his attention, but a mage as well? The idea is both fascinating and strange to him; though he’d just witnessed what could only be magic firsthand, it still strikes him as bizarre that such a thing exists.

Red can’t help the soft smile slowly creeping back up again at her enthusiasm, though it quickly drops at the oddly human wince. That couldn’t be good.

“I could help you look for her.” Before he even realizes what he’s saying, the words have already left his lips.

At the very least, he should try to get a better idea of what’s going on.

“I can only imagine she is, if the two of you are as close as you seem to be. Though, I couldn’t begin to fathom why her tutor would dislike you…”

He winces at her mention of potentially hurting himself in trying to help - the possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind. Ivy’s description of a swamp pulling a rabbit under is also distantly alarming, but the thought is pushed aside for the time being. She did have a good point; he’d have to figure out some other way to get around if he wanted to be of any sort of assistance.

It’s a moment of realization as a thought occurs to him. Those strings…

“There were strings, earlier,” Red states slowly, as if still thinking the words through. “I think I might have made them, somehow. Perhaps I could use those to get around?”

He trails off for a moment, moving briefly to wring his hands before he drops the gesture with a quiet clinking of chains. His gaze falls, expression just a touch sheepish.

Jade was kind of a jerk, true, but she had never done anything to Ivy before, at least that she could remember, so the chances of Jade having anything to do with this were low. Maybe she had just been spacing out and wandered through a portal, or something? A weak explanation, sure, but Ivy didn't really have a better one.

When Red mentioned his strings, Ivy tilted her head. "Strings? Like.... grappling hook strings? You know, those things that have hooks on the end and you make them go, and they shoot into the sky and pull you behind them? My small and I read a book with those in them, once. And magic is easy, don't worry! You just close your eyes, and reach for what you're looking for, like Roxie did."

Ivy stopped for a moment, trying to recall what it was like when Roxie first started using magic. "Sometimes feeling strong emotions makes it easier. Like when Jade was first teaching my small to do magic! She would do things that made her upset, and then Roxie would instinctually use her magic. One time Jade trapped me in a metal locker and made Roxie bust me out. It was scary."

Red flinches rather violently away from the touch, images of grabbing hands and ice-cold shackles vivid in his mind as jolts upright to find the source—

… only to find a cat. A talking cat. He blinks a bit at the little feline, frantic breaths slowing as the lack of danger processes.

Surely he must be hallucinating.

A long moment passes before the words register and instinct kicks in. It’s generally considered impolite to just sit and stare when asked a question, after all.

“Okay. Am I okay. I… No. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” He’s shivering again, even though the forest around him is plenty warm. Hasn’t been okay since… Whatever happened, happened. Since he woke up, really.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady nerves frayed anew.

Red’s joke does indeed fall flat, Ivy not really getting it. This was mostly because he was inhuman enough looking that Ivy just sort of… bought that his legs detached themselves and ran away. She had been around enough magic in her time to decide to take most of these things at face value.

The little cat’s ears droop slightly in disappointment when her offer is refused- she hadn’t quite expected him to accept, but it would have been nice. He hadn’t refused in general, though, so maybe that was hope for the future.

However, Ivy perks up again at the mention of her small. The cat always relished a chance to talk about her small. “Mhm! My small! Her name is Roxie. She’s a poet and she can do magic. I’m very proud of her! I like to sleep on her chest at night, so I can keep her safe. I’ve been with her since I was a small!”

The guilt spikes somewhat at the subtle droop of her ears. Oh. She’d really been eager about that, hadn’t she?

At least she seems happy enough to talk about her ‘small’ - a child, if he understands correctly. The mention of poetry catches his attention, but a mage as well? The idea is both fascinating and strange to him; though he’d just witnessed what could only be magic firsthand, it still strikes him as bizarre that such a thing exists.

Red can’t help the soft smile slowly creeping back up again at her enthusiasm, though it quickly drops at the oddly human wince. That couldn’t be good.

“I could help you look for her.” Before he even realizes what he’s saying, the words have already left his lips.

Red flinches rather violently away from the touch, images of grabbing hands and ice-cold shackles vivid in his mind as jolts upright to find the source—

… only to find a cat. A talking cat. He blinks a bit at the little feline, frantic breaths slowing as the lack of danger processes.

Surely he must be hallucinating.

A long moment passes before the words register and instinct kicks in. It’s generally considered impolite to just sit and stare when asked a question, after all.

“Okay. Am I okay. I… No. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” He’s shivering again, even though the forest around him is plenty warm. Hasn’t been okay since… Whatever happened, happened. Since he woke up, really.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady nerves frayed anew.

Red's joke does indeed fall flat, Ivy not really getting it. This was mostly because he was inhuman enough looking that Ivy just sort of... bought that his legs detached themselves and ran away. She had been around enough magic in her time to decide to take most of these things at face value.

The little cat's ears droop slightly in disappointment when her offer is refused- she hadn't quite expected him to accept, but it would have been nice. He hadn't refused in general, though, so maybe that was hope for the future.

However, Ivy perks up again at the mention of her small. The cat always relished a chance to talk about her small. "Mhm! My small! Her name is Roxie. She's a poet and she can do magic. I'm very proud of her! I like to sleep on her chest at night, so I can keep her safe. I've been with her since I was a small!"

Red flinches rather violently away from the touch, images of grabbing hands and ice-cold shackles vivid in his mind as jolts upright to find the source—

… only to find a cat. A talking cat. He blinks a bit at the little feline, frantic breaths slowing as the lack of danger processes.

Surely he must be hallucinating.

A long moment passes before the words register and instinct kicks in. It’s generally considered impolite to just sit and stare when asked a question, after all.

“Okay. Am I okay. I… No. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.” He’s shivering again, even though the forest around him is plenty warm. Hasn’t been okay since… Whatever happened, happened. Since he woke up, really.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady nerves frayed anew.