PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter XVI Part III

Mitt brought him out of the room and past the doors, shutting and sealing them behind him with masterful flourishes and flicks. Soon the chalk was glowing, forming a robust seal against Dell's attempts at escape once more.

Only then did Mitt let go of Cujo's wrist, prompting him to rip his arm away from the cat and demand, "What? What is it?"

"I thought you were her friend? Why are you being such an asshole?" the cat hissed, looking at him with a disapproving glare.

"Wh- an asshole? Me?! She was going to hit you over the head with a chair!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards the cellar, surprise turning into frustration as he stared the cat down.

Mitt nearly growled, closing their eyes and rubbing a set of digits against their forehead. "I know, and that pisses me off, but that's not the problem here," they said.

"Mitt; she despises cats! She was going to work with a genocidal maniac to help murder us all! Is it too much to ask that she not make a fool of herself like this?" he loudly and rhetorically spoke, gesturing widely in a furious stupor.

Mitt grimaced in disgust. "Look, I get that, but what you did there was too much. If anyone has a reason to be pissed off, it's me, so please stop getting so worked up over-"

"Worked up?! I'm just trying to help her understand that she can't keep doing this! She nearly got herself killed for Dog's sake! She's embarrassing everyone, isn't she?"

Mitt's voice rose to a furious roar, finally breaking the dog's diatribe and making him flinch. "WOULD YOU LISTEN TO YOURSELF?!" Cujo's eyes widened, then he went right back to frowning, but not before Mitt inhaled sharply and shakily. They rubbed their fingers against their forehead harder, using the repetitive motion to calm down.

The retriever crossed his arms, letting his letterman jacket overtake his fluffy paws as he buried them in the crook of his elbows. He watched the cat, expectantly waiting for them to be done speaking.

"Listen, I know a thing or two about pride; I can tell when someone's lashing out because theirs has been bruised."

The retriever was silent, taken aback by the cat's words, giving them validity.

"I don't know what your relationship with her has been like, but I'm not going to sit back and let that behavior continue, even if she's helped you-know-who."

Cujo shook his head and scoffed in disbelief, utterly incredulous at the cat's words. "You don't get it," he told them, "she wants to kill you, this isn't a playground spat- if we let her do what she wants, she'll help out that bastard until he decides to kill her. I'm trying to get her to understand what she's done is wrong, it's for her own safety," he said confidently.

Mitt grit their teeth at the dog, looking at him with spite. "And I don't care," they said plainly, "if that's what she wants to do, you treating her like a disobedient pet isn't going to help." Cujo opened his mouth to speak, but Mitt gestured their wand about, catching his attention long enough for them to continue. "Even if it did help, I don't need this to worry about ontop of everything else." Mitt glared at him, their face portraying they had a lot more in store if he wanted to keep the argument going.

The dog mumbled something about an unwinnable argument, turned to the side, then spoke up, "Fine, sure. Let's just go back to the house, I just want this to be over so I can get back to living my life."

"I'm serious," Mitt said, pointing at the dog with their wand and getting an instinctive flinch from the golden, "you're letting this get to you, and I don't have the time to worry about this. Stow it."

The dog groaned aggressively, baring his teeth in frustration. "Do you think it's that easy? She stole your wand, and gave it to a murderer, all because she had this- this stupid idea that some random cat killed everyone at school, for fun!" He almost pouted, clenching his teeth from behind his flappy jowls, failing to look intimidating.

Mitt sighed, returning their arms to their chest and crossing them, staring at the dying grass while lost in thought.

"So? Are you done being my mom?" The retriever said sarcastically, balling his fists.

"... Well, it's not like we're doing much else..." Mitt mumbled to themselves, ignoring Cujo.

"What?" He said in response to their muttering.

Mitt looked at the dog in the eyes, bringing one of their paws to comb through their pink hair. "Let's teleport back. I'm pretty sure I have enough chalk left on me for a few more circles..."

The dog's frown lessened as the tension died down. "If we're done arguing- you were going to ask me something earlier?"

"Nevermind that," Mitt grumbled before reaching into a pocket and drawing out a slab of chalk covered in an amount of plastic wrap to prevent it from coating their pockets in the substance. They began to calligraph a rune on the ragged stone path, using what was left of the flagstones to act as a canvas for the image. "When we get back, I've got to go get my brother out of school, but before I do, I'm going to have you talk with Coco."

"Why?" He asked, tone revealing he thought speaking to the cat was pointless.

"... It's not my place to say."

"And why not?" Cujo said, narrowing his keen eyes and tilting his fuzzy head forward.

Mitt rolled their eyes. "Because, it's her choice. Please, don't push it..." they trailed off, the rune finished underneath them. They waved their wand elegantly, which rose a wafting of ribbons and pinkish haze from the circle's sigils. "Hop on, unless you want to walk back," they said plainly.

The dog scratched at one of his enormous ears, sparing an uncertain glance back towards the cellar before stepping onto the circle wordlessly alongside Mitt. He appeared unamused for only a moment, then stared at the ring as - with the flick of the black and white rod - it came to life, wrapping the duo with a flurry of intangible ribbons as they both began to feel weightless. Cujo yelped in surprise as his clothes rose alongside his large ears, before the sounds of a whooshing crack - and a bright mist of pink - left the cellar alone once more.