#thread:thorns

@braveadventurers

Scrooge always felt alarm when he saw a human, especially out here where there should be nothing but other animals. Autumn leaves coated the ground of the woods, the chill of winter turning them into frosty spectacles that created more of a hard floor than a gentle carpet. He knew humans hunted animals, just like they did, and they always wanted to cover oddities such as talking animals. They were bizarre creatures of logic, and to them they were the only intelligent life forms on the planet other than monkeys. So when they see a three foot tall anthropomorphic duck wearing fancy clothes and carrying around a cane it’s a coin flip for a reaction. The girl standing before him, however, seemed completely numb to his existence, accepting it almost immediately.

Young girl who stared at him seemingly in curiosity and awe, perhaps she had seen creatures like him somewhere before? He wasn’t quite sure. It’s not like it would matter anyways, with his position as it were, it’s not like he could run away. He had gotten his leg caught it seemed in a tangle of vines and thorns. He didn’t think anything was damaged, perhaps a scrape or bruise, but for the most part he was alright, miraculously. The sharp thorns did sting quite a bit but he’s dealt with much worse. From compound fractures to concussions all the way to attempted murders on his life. Considering the fact the girl hasn’t made any violent moves towards him, he assumed she wasn’t going to hurt him, and as such was calmed with ease.

He wondered why she didn’t either run in terror or didn’t seem all that surprised to see something like him-- he had no idea that she had seen weirder and perhaps talking other animals. He had never heard of a place called Narnia, and as such he was completely out of the loop of any such concept that could desensitize humans to their world. Despite the shock and confusion, in that forest he found he was quite pleased and became less worried about the human race. They were dangerous, as far as he was considered, not any more than the average duck on the street though but they were just as able to attack them as they were to attack back. As such it would be understandable that two species would have some discourse from the one side that knew about the other.

“Hello miss.” He greeted to her, his thick Scottish accent bleeding through his words as he attempted to untangle the brambles that wrapped around his leg. “Do ye have anythin’ I could use t’ cut these vines? Perhaps sheers or scissors?” Scrooge asked her, trying to sound friendly, there was blood beginning to ooze from the cuts that the thorns were making in his leg. He didn’t appreciate it and didn’t want it, and yet here he was-- trapped. He hoped beyond hope that he could get out soon, rain was coming and he would much rather not get mud into the wounds as he attempted his return to Duckburg on foot.

@duckavcnger

“Donald don’t ye be goin’ t’ th’ money bin today. It is going t’ be closed for emergency business, lest ye be going t’ tha’ top floor of yours, I nae be wantin’ ye to be lingerin’ round.”

Scrooge had told his nephew about that, he didn’t expand on his explanation, leaving it at what it was. There was to be nobody in the money bin but the old duck himself. His plans were beyond anyone. The why to explain it absent, what could be so important that nobody would be allowed within the confines of such a quiet and secure building. Well the answer was simple, visitation from an ‘old friend’. A man to whom the old duck was quite fond of for what he has done for him. The miracles to which encased his life, gave him another chance to live and thrive upon the face of this planet.

When the younger came in to the money bin, all the lights were off. The hallways were mostly encased in shadows, an eerie feeling as dark halls became apparent in the eternal night fall. There were hardly any windows in this building and as such the darkness was not interrupted. This was perfect for the bizarre guest that had shown up for a meeting in this place. As one climbed the stairs, for the elevator was not working in the present moment, it became darker and darker. Not necessarily via the lights but somehow with the same amount of light the world still grew darker. In the dim light something became visible upon the walls.

What was that which jutted out on the floor of Scrooge’s office? Something that coated the walls-- at first one would think it was something animal like, with how it twitched slightly, perhaps snakes. But upon closer inspection it became apparent that they were thorns! Inky black thorns like something straight out of a horror film, all coming from Scrooge’s office. The door was cold as ice and threw it there was conversation, calm conversation, friendly conversation. There was no distortion in the duo that talked, one being the Scot the other being a deep voiced stranger.

“Duckburg is surely going to fall, you know this Scrooge.”

“But how would we purify such a large city without alarmin’ people?”

“That’s something you have to find out, my friend, you’re the one who owns the town are you not?”

“Are ye able t’ erase memories.”

“You have seen my power used on that woman of yours in the Klondike.”

“Yes I have... An’ on me own nephew.”

“Indeed, if the memory is not valuable for your cause than it shall be erased.”

“Perhaps ye can erase a whole town’s worth of memories, t’ forget they were ever evacuated or saw th’ cleansin’.”

“You mean trap them in the town and do the job then wipe their memories?”

“Aye, or somethin’ similar, perhaps even put them t’ sleep.”

“That will require unbelievable amounts of power.”

“....Didn’t ye say ye married a Sleigh Beggy.”

“Chise... Yes... If it does not bring her harm I could tap into her power and ask the fairy kingdom for help.”

“Why does everythin’ have t’ be so difficu--”

Scrooge’s voice was cut off as the door swung open suddenly, the monster that towered over duck kind stared down at the hero before him, his eyes a glowing ethereal red, the candlelight behind him casting an ominous shadow as he grabbed hold of the duck and dragged him into the room, closing the door behind him. “We have an eavesdropper, your kind never learns it seems.”

“Nae they do not... Donald what are ye doin’ here! I hope ye were jus’ makin’ your way t’ your headquarters, aye?” Scrooge was enraged as he glared at the younger, before turning to the beast. “My sincerest apologies, Elias, I told ‘im t’ stay away.” It was easy to tell the figure was on edge with how the vines on the walls twitched and spasmed.

“It is fine, Scrooge, I know your family is a rowdy bunch.”