Soft Touch

Stuck With You

The appendage says absolutely nothing in return, scurrying further into the room and crawling up Wednesday's bed to rest atop her neatly made covers. He stops, pausing, as if to regain his lost breath, body shaking violently.

How far had he ran?

"What is it you need, Thing?" Wednesday asks impatiently, arms crossing in front of her chest.

He, and the werewolves outside, had interrupted her writing time. That was unforgivable. Perhaps Thing would have a couple of clawed friends in a few days' time.

He signs rapidly and violently, gestures wild and out of place. Wednesday barely manages to part his story together, eyebrows twitching together. "She what?"

Thing quickly repeats what he had said, as if Wednesday hadn't seen the first time.

'Outside. Cages. New principal. Took her.'

A quiet breath (that sounds an awful lot like a sigh) escapes Wednesday's parted lips, chest rising further and dipping deeper than it normally did. "Very well. Lead the way, Thing."

Typewriter and novel momentarily forgotten, Wednesday opens the door and follows the appendage outside.

=======================

Thing scurries, with difficulty, down the large steps, barely stopping for a break after each one. Wednesday silently admires his determination, briefly taking notice of how much he truly cared for the werewolf.

She hadn't really ever noticed before- Thing's willingness to help Enid, the lack of hesitation he held or showed when he knew Enid was in danger, the lengths he went to just to make sure Wednesday didn't slit her stuffed animal's throats while the werewolf slept, or burned them while Enid was busy in class or with homework. How she hadn't before, she wouldn't ever know, but she did now. It had been so blatantly obvious, simply knowing it is almost enough to embarrass Wednesday. Thing was as protective of the werewolf as he was of the goth.

The goth says nothing, asks no questions, and silently reminds herself never to bring it up. She was thinking too hard, she thought. It was best to drop it now before she wouldn't be able to forget it, or before it tainted her mind longer than necessary.

Stray leaves fly as Thing topples over them, nearly slipping and falling, but somehow managing to catch himself on the firmer ground before he can truly do so.

Wednesday, for obvious reasons, has much less difficulty, only having to lengthen her normally small strides in order to keep up with the disembodied hand, she follows him without trouble.

She hears the werewolves before she sees them. Their before silent howls cutting through the once silent night, and ringing in Wednesday's ears until it's almost all she can hear.

Thing approaches the large steel cages, but still does not stop. he continues running, seemingly faster than before, and skids to a stop in front of an especially far-away cage.

Wednesday glances down at him, her eyes narrowed almost suspiciously. "I suppose she is inside?" She says, glancing in the dark cage. She sees nothing, and looks back at the appendage expectantly.

'Yes. Get inside, before she transforms.'

Thing experiences much less difficulty while climbing through the bars, while Wednesday does not. She struggles for a few minutes before her small figure seems to give her an advantage, and she squeezes through the steel and onto the other side.