Chapter Text
Outlanders
I. Never a Dull Moment
The sun rose over a humble farmhouse in the Outlands of the Candy Realm. Remnants of collapsed sheds and storehouses lay scattered across the land, with only a simple lodge and a distant barn still standing with the homestead. A ramshackle pretzel fence separated the otherwise barren property from the patchy brush beyond its borders. A rough outcropping, detached from the distant canyons, concealed the seemingly abandoned farm from immediate line of sight. Even a passer-by would have likely ignored it as a long deserted station.
Upon closer inspection, the large house was actually in fairly good condition, if purposely modest. Though made of graham crackers and plain gingerbread, it was structured like a substantial two-story farmhouse, its chocolate and toffee accents blending in to not tip off wandering eyes. No bandit or rogue would dare risk repairing their hideout under normal circumstances…
“Breakfast!”
A pale young woman with short brown hair ambled into the dining area with a platter of cinnamon toast, setting it on the table. Rushing back to the kitchen, she checked on a pan of crisp taffy bacon cooling on the stovetop, then grabbed a small bowl of chocolate eggs and brought it to the same table. Her red sleeveless shirt, paired with her dark blue jeans and bandana, complimented her striped headband and peculiar red and blue irises; the pale yellow sling pouch hanging at her waist matched the least, yet its purpose outweighed its aesthetic. She paused at the doorway to the kitchen, cupping her hand to her mouth. “C’mon, guys! Breakfast is ready!”
The frantic plodding of tiny feet quickly drew her attention to the living room. A round little gummy crocodile scrambled past her towards the dining room, his stubby tail wiggling with joy the whole way.
Caught off-guard by the eager child, the woman hurried to the table and found him grabbing every chocolate egg from the bowl. “Bilby!” she cried, snatching the bowl away… with only one egg left. She groaned and looked down at the blue and purple gummy gator, swallowing his last egg with a loud gulp. “Bilby, no… those were for everyone. You have to share, remember?”
Bilby looked up at his caregiver with pleading eyes. “I was hungwy…”
“I know,” the woman assured, “but we have to wait for your brother and sister first, okay? It's not fair to -”
“Mum!”
Alerted to another young voice, the mother glanced over her shoulder. “Down here, Honey!” As she turned back around, she saw Bilby reaching for the toast platter and pushed it away. “Not so fast! Let's wait for the others.”
It wasn't long before a skinny little gummy crocodile shuffled downstairs and made a beeline for the adult. “I can't find my head scarf…”
Her gaze still focused on Bilby, Mum picked up the toast platter and brought it to a nearby shelf, along with the egg bowl. “Where's the last place you put it?”
“I already checked my hook!” Honey insisted, following close behind. “I looked everywhere!”
Turning her attention to the gummy girl, the mother noticed a bold green cloth tied to the little one’s ankle. A muffled snicker from Bilby helped her piece together what had happened. “Are you sure you're not wearing it?”
Confused at first, Honey patted down her head and neck, then checked her other limbs and finally found her scarf. “Huh? How…?” Another soft giggle tipped her off, spinning around to face her brother. “Bilby, you toffee-head!”
“Honey - no name-calling!” The woman knelt down to her eye level. “I'm pretty sure it wasn't Bilby. He's only three.” She crouched a bit further to untie the scarf, carefully unweaving the snug knot. “I’ll talk to Milo when he comes down, okay?”
The golden gummy gator pouted and crossed her arms. She said nothing as her mother smoothed out the loosened scarf and folded it crosswise, then tied it over her head.
Mum smiled and gently patted the girl's cheek. “There, much better,” she noted, gesturing to the table. “Now, go sit down and keep an eye on Bilby for a minute.”
As Honey shuffled off, the woman stood and made her way to the foot of the stairwell. “Milo! Hurry up - you're missing breakfast!”
The pouch at her waist wriggled suddenly, prompting its bearer to unfasten the top flap. Nestled within was a bright green baby gummy gator, her eyes barely open as she yawned with a faint peep. “Good morning, Kiwi,” her mother cooed, gently tapping her snout. “Are you hungry? Let's get you some gummy worms…”
Settling into her usual routine, Mum refilled the egg bowl and plated the taffy bacon, then grabbed a small pink container from the icebox. She brought the little box out first and set it at the head of the table, then put the cinnamon toast platter back where it had been, and finally brought the eggs and bacon out. Both siblings were rationed two pieces of toast and three rashers of bacon… but while Honey got two eggs, Bilby only got one. “Aww…”
“You’ve had more than enough eggs for one day,” the woman reminded him as she sat down and adjusted the shoulder strap of her pouch. With Kiwi now cradled across her chest, she opened the box and pulled out a gummy worm, holding it up for the infant to grab with her toothless mouth.
Cracking open an egg onto her toast, Honey broke off pieces of the shell to nibble. “Don't we usually get three eggs?”
Their mother fished out another worm from the box. “We’re running low,” she explained, “but your dad should be back later today with supplies. Whatever he doesn't have, we can trade for in town tomorrow.”
Hearing this, Honey sat straight up in her seat. “Are you gonna see Miss Liz?”
“Probably, if we need eggs or leather,” Mum replied with a smirk. “You wanna go?”
“Can I??”
The mother couldn't help but chuckle. “We’ll see what your dad says,” she offered. “I’ll put in a good word if you help me with the dishes.”
Honey nodded with a broad smile. “Okay!”
Halfway into his bacon and toast sandwich, Bilby looked around the dining room. “Where is Miwo?”
“He's on sentry duty again,” Honey answered, crumbling the leftover shell bits onto her egg toast and holding it up for a bite.
The woman wordlessly continued the infant’s feeding. She couldn't tell if her eldest was genuinely worried for their safety, or just copying his father and uncles. Nothing could be changed about their way of life, so she settled for checking in on him often.
Shoving the last of the sandwich into his maw, Bilby stood up in his chair and waved to his mother. “More, pwease!”
“No more breakfast, Bilby,” Mum stated firmly, then returned to her usual soft tone. “Why don't you go play with your toys?”
Of course, Bilby was more interested in taffy bacon. Taking advantage of his mother's focus on Kiwi, he could see that the bacon plate was too far away. His sister’s plate was easily within reach, her bacon untouched, but she spotted him immediately and guarded her food with her arm. He stared up at her with innocent puppy eyes, but she looked away and resumed eating. The sweet scent of bacon was too mouth-watering to resist…
“AAAAAH!”
The sudden scream from upstairs got everyone's attention. The woman bolted from her chair, baby in tow, leaving Honey and Bilby unattended. With her gone and his sister distracted, the little boy lunged for the neglected plate; sadly, his aim was a little off, flipping the dish and its contents over the edge.
“Hey!” Honey shouted, glaring at her brother, but he quickly fell to the floor and started gobbling up the dumped food. “Bilby!” She jumped out of her seat and grabbed his tail, but it was no use - no scrap could escape his ravenous chops. “Mum!”
“In a minute, Honey!” Mum rushed to the stairway, tucking Kiwi back into her pouch. “Milo! What happened? Are you okay?”
By then, the gummy crocodile lad was already barreling down the stairs, binoculars in one hand and an akubra bush hat in the other. “Go look outside! Hurry!” He led his mother to the front window and poked his binoculars through the drawn blinds. “Where is it? Where is it?”
To her relief, the young yellow-green gummy gator was safe and sound. Identifying what spooked him, and its legitimacy, was another matter. “Milo, just tell me what you saw.”
“If I don't show you you won't believe me -”
The woman gently squeezed her son's shoulder, prompting him to look her way. “I promise, I’ll believe you,” she assured. “Now, what did you see?”
Milo glanced down at his binoculars, then back up to his mother. “Well… I’m not sure… but it looked like a ghost.”
Honey scoffed from the dining room, stepping around Bilby as he licked the floor clean. “Ghosts aren't real, dum-dum!”
The older brother turned on his heel and glared at his sister. “Shut up! I know what I saw!”
“Both of you - settle down!” The mother turned to her daughter with a stern glower. “Honey - what did I say about name-calling? Go sit down, we’ll talk about this later.” She then spotted her younger son dragging his tongue across the floorboards. “Bilby, don't lick the floor… Go sit with your sister.” Once they returned to their seats, she addressed her eldest child. “Okay, Milo, tell me more about what you saw.”
With his siblings in check, Milo thought back on his observation. “The thing is, it doesn't look like any candy I know of,” he explained. “It was small and white, with big black eyes and a mouth… and it had these strings of red stuff coming off it, like licorice or something…”
Wait… The woman furrowed her brow, piecing together the elements of her son’s account. Why does that sound familiar?
“That's not even the creepiest bit,” Milo went on, arms up and claws out. “I saw it following someone in the bush - like it was hunting!”
A cold chill washed over her as she grabbed her son's binoculars and peeked through the blinds. Please no…
The kids shared a fleeting worried glance. Milo looked up at his mother, gripping the brim of his hat in both hands. “So… you believe me?”
Honey squirmed in her seat. “H- He’s making it up, right?” she griped, wrapping herself in a hug. “Ghosts aren't real. You and Dad said so…”
Bilby looked up from licking his fingers and focused on his mother, scooting forward in his chair. “Mumma?”
A frantic search of the wilderness beyond their fence soon confirmed the woman's fears - a rogue dressed in a brown leather trench coat and cowboy boots. Worse yet, their face was covered by a red bandana and a weathered old cowboy hat. She could rule out a few suspects by body type, but beyond that this person could be anyone… including some unsavory, savage adversaries…
“Did you see the ghost?”
Mum sighed and turned around, setting the binoculars aside. “There's no ghost,” she assured, “but I need you kids to go upstairs while I take care of something, okay?”
Milo noted her tense body language and grave tone, responding with a firm nod.
As the oldest brother donned his hat, Honey hopped down from her chair and walked over to her mother. “What's going on?”
Bearing a brave face for her children, the woman brushed her hand over her daughter’s head scarf. “You know how your dad and I tell you to run inside if you see a stranger?” The girl nodded, and she continued, “We have a stranger outside. I'm going to talk to them and find out who they are. Until then, you kids need to go up to your room, hide, and stay quiet. I’ll come get you when it's okay to come out.”
The gummy girl nodded weakly and went back to help her little brother off his chair. For his part, Bilby only understood that his family was upset. Even after Honey took his hand and led him to the stairway, he looked back and held out his other hand. “Mumma!”
Before Milo and Honey could nudge him along, their mother ambled over and kissed his snout. “Be good for your brother and sister. I’ll come up in a few minutes, okay?”
With Honey and Bilby on their way upstairs, the woman turned around and found her eldest waiting behind her, standing at the ready. “Right, what can I do?”
Her patience wearing thin, Mum pointed to the stairway. “Go upstairs!”
“I can help!”
“No, you can't - you're seven!”
“Dad says I’m supposed to help you when he's gone -”
“Not this kind of help! You could get hurt!”
“Mum, please! Let me help! I’ll do anything!”
Nearly at her wit's end, the woman buried her face in her palms. She couldn't keep this up with a rogue advancing on their house!
As she pressed her hands away from her face, her blurry vision spied the precious cargo nestled at her chest. Thinking on her feet, she straightened her posture and looked her son square in the eye. “If I give you something important to do, will you do exactly what I say?”
A triumphant grin swept across Milo’s maw. “Yes! Finally!”
The mother removed her pouch and handed it to her son. “Take care of Kiwi.”
The boy’s smile faded in an instant. “What??”
“Milo, this is the most important duty I can give you,” Mum implored, dropping to her knees. “She needs to stay safe and warm. Keep her on you at all times and give her the attention she needs.” She tilted his hat back and nudged his chin in her direction. “You do the big brother stuff upstairs. I’ll do the grown-up stuff down here. Okay?”
The gummy lad scowled and backed off. With both arms wrapped around the bundle, he trudged up the stairs while grumbling to himself.
Once she heard the bedroom door open and slam shut, the woman breathed a sigh of relief. She made her way back to the window and peeked through the blinds; the stranger had hopped the fence and was steadily approaching. She had to act fast.
As a precaution, the doors were already locked and the blinds drawn. She moved a dark chocolate bookcase in front of the main door for extra protection, then kicked off her house shoes in favor of her red leather boots. Using the bandana around her neck to cover her mouth and nose, she grabbed a brown leather jacket from the coat rack and slipped on the red gloves stashed in the pocket. She armed herself with a chocolate and peppermint handgun from its wall-mounted hooks and loaded the barrel. Finally, she donned her own akubra hat and crouched beside the door on high alert, breathing deep calming breaths as she waited…
A simple knock rattled against the door. “Hello?”
To her surprise, the voice on the other side sounded female. That ruled out a lot of potential suspects, but she kept her guard up. There were plenty of female rogues as well, none of them to be trifled with.
“Is anyone home?”
The woman stayed silent. If this person was truly harmless, they would leave eventually. While prepared to fight, she preferred to avoid confrontation if her kids were nearby.
“My friends and I are looking for someone.”
Something about the stranger’s tone was familiar, somehow. It wasn't anyone she knew from town or as a professional… yet it resonated in her mind as someone she’d met before. If only she could put her finger on it…
“We were just wondering if maybe you’ve seen them, or heard anything?”
Against her better judgment, the woman answered sternly, “Who are you?”
The stranger piped, “Oh, hello! I'm glad someone’s home -”
“Who are you?”
A pause hung in the air before the stranger spoke again. “Sorry,” she replied. “My name is Ragatha…”
The rest of her words fell on deaf ears as the woman gasped, eyes wide with shock. Could it be true?
Sneaking to the other side of the bookcase, she peeked out the edge of the front window. Though cloaked in western gear, the stranger had removed their hat and bandana. The red yarn hair, the blue hair bow, the stitches in her hand…
“Um… well, I take it you haven't seen or heard anything. Sorry for bothering you!”
Scrambling to her feet, the woman shoved the bookcase away from the entrance and flung the door open. “Wait!”
The stranger, a ragdoll, turned on her heel and froze, watching as the homeowner rushed out onto the porch. The pale woman pulled her bandana down and took off her hat, stepping into the morning sun. “Ragatha?”
The ragdoll clutched her hand to her chest. “Pomni?”