#enchanted:start

“Oh my god,” Scarlet cried, jumping back, a hand flying to her chest as her heart pounded beneath it. “Don’t do that!”

“How do you stand to be near all these brilliant lanterns?  Is this town more blind than I?” the wolf mused lightheartedly, lips curling into a grin before adding, “or is it their feeble attempt at suffocating the shadows?” That he could understand. That he could work with.

“Even on the Isle...I never felt this alone...”

“Well,” Tristan spoke, his voice holding a sigh despite the fact that he knew he should have at least tried to be optimistic, or that’s at least what Ella would tell him “I’m not sure what I’d been expecting the spell to be, but it certainly wasn’t this place,” His arms were crossed about his chest as he made his confession. “please tell me it at least gets better,”

“Hey, weird question, but you haven’t seen a scarecrow walking around, have you?” Granted, if her skin was no longer green, who was to say Fiyero was even still in that state? “Or maybe a small blonde? Incredibly chipper and most likely in a pink, sparkly, frilly dress.”

It was an average day on the outskirts of town. Beautiful and bright, early evening, the sun on the horizon. The big and bad had sought some time to himself, the quiet to ease the chaos in his mind. The only difference was the blood that seemed to creep below his chin, streaking down to his waist -- wet and fresh. The back of his hand lazily ran across his lip, brushing some of the red away.