Over the Garden Wall: Gender-Bended

Chapter 1: The Old Grist Mill

The night was growing darker, and you better believe that Wirt noticed it. She didn't say anything, but pretty soon, the woods were beginning to look the same: dark leafy shape after tall dark leafy shape. Her little sister, Greta, didn't seem to notice, however. She was too busy coming up with names not to call her frog. Wirt wasn't listening though. She was looking about and suddenly, the unfamiliarity of the woods became all-too real.

Greta kept droning, "But I think that the absolute worst name for this frog is-"

"W-wait a second," Wirt interrupted, halted, and stuck out her hand, accidentally hitting Greta. "Uh... Gret..." Wirt took a long look at the spooky silhouettes of trees and animal shapes in their branches before asking slowly, "Where are we?"

"In the woods," Gret offered and set her frog down gently on the ground.

"No, I mean... What are we doing out here?" Wirt asked, her voice unconsciously getting louder.

"We're walking home," Gret answered as if it weren't obvious. Was it even?

"Gret, I think we're lost!" Wirt exclaimed, beginning to panic. "W-we should've left a trail or something!"

"I can leave a trail of candy from my skirt," Gret offered and reached into one of the many of her overall-skirt's voluminous pockets. Her fist closed around a handful of candy and she enthusiastically tossed some into the air, like edible confetti.

Could've, would've, should've far too late... "No," Wirt sighed and got into an Edgar Allan Poe mood. "Though I am lost, my wounded heart resides back home- in pieces- strewn about the graveyard of my lost love." She was now in the zone and stood up straight with her hand up. "For only-"

A small noise interrupted her. "Do you hear that?" Wirt asked, following the small hacking sound.

"Yeah," Gret answered and followed her sister, stopping behind a tree.

They peered around the trunk, but couldn't locate the source of the noise. "Do you think it's some kind of deranged lunatic with an axe waiting out there in the dark for innocent victims?" Wirt asked hurriedly, her racing voice echoing her mind.

Gret decided to see if it was so, and ventured out from behind the tree trunk.

"Gret," Wirt hissed. "Gret!" Gret didn't come back and a screech made Wirt flinch, so she followed and caught up with her sister. "Gret, you're gonna get us into trouble again." A bright light caught the girls' eyes and they turned to see a humming figure, illuminated by a lantern. The figure turned, and the girls saw a middle-aged woman dressed in a ratty grey coat with matching pants. Her outfit was contrasted by shiny black boots and a battered, wide-brimmed hat. The woman put down her axe and gathered some branches that she had seemingly just cut off of an oozing, fallen tree.

"We should ask her for help," Gret said.

"No," Wirt contradicted, "We should not ask her for help."

Gret didn't see why not. "But-"

"Shh!"

"You shush!"

"You shush!"

"Shh!"

Wirt finally covered her sister's mouth. Well, their fix seemed even greater now that the voice and light were fading away. "Shoot," Wirt muttered. She turned to Gret. "You think we should've asked her for help?" Her younger sister shrugged.

"Maybe I can help you," a boyish voice from above offered. "I mean, you girls are lost, right?"

Wirt gasped and rubbed her eyes. It was an eastern bluebird! "What in the world is going on?" she squeaked.