Stuck in Notre Dame

Chapter 3

Quasimodo forgot about his master, Judge Claude Frollo.

"My friends," Quasimodo quietly responds.

"I see," Frollo walks past him, holding a basket full of food. "And what are your friends made of?" knocking on one of the gargoyles that are now frozen in place

"Stone..." Quasimodo looks down as he replies.

"Can stone... talk?"

"No... it can't..."

"Very good. You're a smart lad."

Stitch hears this and looks down and sees a tall, lean man in what appears to be an 18th-century judge. Who's this doosh bag?! Stitch stays hidden, but listens to the conversation that happens below. She soon loses interest, as they were going through Quasi's alphabet. Are you serious?! He looks to be in his 20's, and he's learning the alphabet NOW?! Stitch tries to relax, but then the sound of spitting caught her attention.

"Excuse me?"

"F-f-forgiveness!" Quasimodo tries to save his response but it was too late, as his master doesn't buy it, and responds in a cold voice which sends chills down Stitch's spine,

"You said 'festival'"

"No!" Stitch could hear Quasimodo's voice trembling.

"You're thinking about going to the festival!"

"It's just you go every year,"

"I'm a public official! I must go! But i don't enjoy a moment of it!"

Stitch mentally gags. Who in the right mind doesn't like going to a festival?! She continues to listen to their conversation, following the sound of their voices to the edges of the planks. Realizing that she can't listen in further, she quietly slams her hand on the planks in frustration, as to not draw any attention to herself. She sighs and sits in the middle of the planks, her arms wrapped around her legs that she brought close to her chest.

A few minutes later, Stitch hears Frollo talking again to Quasimodo, "You are forgiven. But, remember, Quasimodo: this is your sanctuary."