"Come on feet," she said, looking down. "Show me the way."

Puddlebrain, not actually expecting her feet to guide her without her guiding them, simply walked forward. As she neared the wall of trees, they parted, branches creaking and moving to create a tunnel of wood and leaf. She had no choice, she knew, but to follow it and hope Thistle – and the Grimace – would lead her out. She was wary, wondering if the forest would actually lead her in circles, an eternity spent wandering around with no hope of escape.

It was a chance she had to take, for the villagers, her sisters and herself. For so long she'd been in their shade. Edna and Gemini treated her as if she was the baby and the rest of Little Whimsy followed suit. Now she had to prove she wasn't. Hopefully then she might believe herself it too.

She walked a few paces into the tunnel before looking back. The trees had closed behind her, cutting off any hope of escape, should she have wanted one. Escape, however, was not an option. What would she do? Where could she go? No, Puddlebrain had one goal and that was to save all those who had, in one form or another, mistreated or looked down upon her. Without wondering why she might do such a thing for those who, quite possibly, would have to think twice, thrice or never even imagine doing the same for her, she continued on.

As she walked, the branches, trunks and roots ahead moved in a fluid, snake-like motion. The creaking was gone and, instead, the trees almost hissed into place, creating a confined but clear path for her to follow. She tried, a couple of times, to sprint, hoping to outrun The Grimace and choose her own way through to the outside world but the forest was too fast for her. The passageway slithered together in anticipation of her dash and kept her exactly where it wanted her to be.

She wanted to vent, to cry out at her frustration of being led rather than simply being able to just go, but knew it would be pointless - and knew, without the guidance, this witch would quite possibly never been seen again.

With a sigh of acceptance, she carried on walking. Considering it was night-time, Puddlebrain discovered she could see quite well. There seemed to be no light seeping in through the branches from the star-filled sky, nor were the trees glowing in any way that the witch could perceive. Still, she could see when she expected to be fumbling around. Perhaps her eyes had adjusted to the dark as if she'd enjoyed a diet of carrots for the past century. You never saw a blind rabbit. Maybe the Grimace was shining in a way she couldn't tell. Either way, Puddlebrain was pleased she didn't have to feel her way along the tunnel. She could easily have tripped, broken a limb and been stranded.

Suddenly, the path opened up. It wasn't exactly a clearing such as the one she'd met Thistle in, being covered over and enclosed. It was more like a room. Perhaps the cellar back at the house. Either way, something was before her that made the breath catch in her throat on its way out to the big wide world. She stopped dead in her tracks, her feet matching her breath for its inability to move.

Billy!

Growing out of the ground, roots spreading and twisting with those of the rest of the Grimace, was the gnome. In the short time the pair had been parted, moss had already taken hold and was covering the lower part of his face in a dark green and yellow beard. Cobwebs spun across the large boles that made up his ears and, in one, a spider with long, spindly legs three times the length of his yellow and black striped body dined on a beetle of some sort.

The spider skittered away as the witch ran forward. She hugged him close, ignoring the hardness of his skin and how it grazed her cheek. Tears ran from her closed eyes and trickled from cheek to bark where it soaked into the wood. How could she do this to her friend? How could she abandon him?

A sob escaped her mouth.

"Quit yer whining!" said a voice. Small hands were pushing at her body. "And gerroff me!"

Puddlebrain tumbled backwards, confused.

Thistle?

No!

BILLY!

She threw herself forward again, her arms wrapping around the gnome tightly. Billy grunted and tried vainly to push her away again. Unsuccessful, he gave up and let her hold him.

he had to try again.

"You're... strangling... me...! Can't... breath...!"

"Oh!" exclaimed Puddlebrain, letting go. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean... I mean... I wanted to..."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You wanted to say how sorry you were for turning me all woody-like and leaving me behind. You wanted to beg for my forgiveness and promise to do my bidding for the rest of your life. I know, I know."

Puddlebrain blinked.

"Erm... no. Not quite," she said. "I was pleased to see you again."

"Oh well," said Billy. "It was worth a try."

"I mean, I am sorry, truly, but..."

"Forget it. It was quite nice being a tree for a bit. Gives you time to think when you can't move. You have to entertain yourself with your thoughts."

"What did you think about?"

"I thought about how I'd like to turn you into a tree and wondered how you'd like it if spiders were crawling around in your ears!"

Billy shook his head and wiggled his fingers in his ears.

"Just in case you wondered, it wasn't quite nice at all. It was decidedly not nice. So thanks very much!"

Puddlebrain looked down. "I'm s..."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know. I get it. Forget it. I'm not barking mad now, so just forget it."

"Barking mad?"

"Blimey, witch! Don't you recognise a joke when it slaps you in the face?"

Puddlebrain did know what a joke was, but wasn't used to being slapped in the face by one. She shook her head, not knowing what to say. She'd missed her friend's sarcasm filled comments, as insulting as they often were. The witch told herself she would do her very best not to turn him into anything at all from that point on, even if she felt he really deserved it. The remarks were just his way. She could deal with that.

At least she hoped she could. Still, this wasn't the time for joking. They had things to do, somehow. They had people to save – again, somehow. They had to move.

This brought to light another problem. Billy had been a tree, roots, knots and all. Was he still rooted to the ground, his toes digging into the mud to spread like a spider's web of wood?

"Can you move?" she asked, nervously.

"I can move a lot faster than you, even with these twigs still sticking out of my feet!"

Puddlebrain looked down and Billy wiggled his toes. Tiny pieces of wood, each with a leaf attached, poked from the gaps between them.

"Oh..."

"Is that the best you can do? 'Oh'?"

Puddlebrain scratched her head. She hadn't expected that.

"I didn't expect that," she said. "I'm still getting used to being able to do magic stuff again."

She paused, not daring to look at the gnome in the face.

"Maybe it'll wear off after a bit?"

"Wear off? You really should read a handbook on finger twirling or whatever it is you do. Preferably before you do any of it anymore!"

Puddlebrain was eager to get going, but she was unsure how to broach the subject with her friend.

"Come on," sighed the gnome. "We can't stick around here. We need to get a shift on."

Puddlebrain laughed nervously.

"What you laughing at?" snorted Billy.

"You made a joke! 'Stick around'!"

Billy stared.

"Clearly you don't know a joke," he said quietly.

"Oh," said Puddlebrain.

Billy poked her.

"Got you," he said.

He turned and ran off towards a wall of branches which opened up into a new tunnel. He stopped at the entrance and looked back.

"Unless you want me to leaf you here, I suggest you drag your backside into gear and come on!"

Puddlebrain blinked, smirked and ran after her friend.

As they left, the branches behind them twisted and intertwined. Thistle stepped forward into the clearing.

"Good luck," he whispered as the path closed behind them.