uh... yeah... hi.

 i have the last three chapters written! so they are done and i won't abandon this for eight months again! they're mostly way shorter than 1000 words, but they'll finish out the fic so yeah

Impulse glanced back and forth as he reached a crossroads in the worn but unused path he was following. The Crastle was far behind him now, hidden behind a wall of trees. The swamp was ahead, waiting for him on the other side of this forest, he just needed to find his way there.

The thick, twisting tangle of branches overhead blocked out the sun and sky, encasing Impulse in a separate world. Massive roots snaked across the ground, partially covered by thick underbrush. A darkness wove its way through the trees, infecting every last leaf and twig. Impulse walked quickly, unsettled by the overwhelming feeling of insignificance in this giant space. The trees had a mystical, ancient feeling about them. The forest was old, older than him, and it would outlive him. It was a humbling thought.

It was too long for Impulse's liking before he saw a sliver of real daylight, like the light at the end of a tunnel. Thick branches wove together in an arch overhead, trailing creepers hanging in long, overgrown strands from them and creating a sort of curtain.

Like a portal to another world, Impulse emerged from the trees to a starkly different view. The vast swamp stretched before him, the willows twisting upwards out of the muck. Cattails and damp moss grew happily along the edges of murky, plentiful ponds. It was home.

Tango watched as the small black-and-yellow figure made its way expertly across the swamp, carefully avoiding falling in the multitude of small, muddy water pits. He quickly reached the woolen fortress Tango stood atop and grasped onto one of the hidden wood beams, pulling himself up onto it and clambering across to a window. Tango made his way downstairs to greet Impulse as he tumbled inside through the opening and landed gently on the soft, carpeted floor.

Impulse hopped to his feet quickly and looked at Tango, red eyes sparkling with relief. "Tango! Hi!"

Tango grabbed Impulse in a hug, which the other returned happily. "Thank void you're here, Impulse!" Tango exclaimed. "This will make my plans so much easier."

"Your plans?" Impulse stepped backwards warily, suddenly on edge. Tango couldn't blame him after Dogwarts.

Tango was quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, you'll like them. We're best friends, I wouldn't attack you!"

Impulse didn't seem totally sure, but he smiled in relief. "So... what are we doing?"

Tango turned and waved Impulse into the main courtyard of the castle. "Come over here."

Impulse followed him curiously and Tango led him to a chest he'd placed, opening the lid and showing off the contents; it was filled with ores, rare foods, and anything of value. "Why'd you leave this out in the open?!" Impulse asked.
"It's for the Watchers," Tango whispered conspiratorially.

Impulse raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Watchers?"

"I don't know how we got here," Tango explained, spreading his hands dramatically. "There must be someone doing this, someone cursing us to turn on one another."

Impulse considered it. "But Grian brought us here-"

"And people have died, people have been tortured, and Grian has done nothing about it. There must be something stopping him, someone watching and controlling us," Tango reasoned.

Impulse paused for a moment. It did make sense... why had no one intervened if they could? Maybe these gods required sacrifices. It was their best chance, so why not? "So what do we do?"

"We offer the gods a sacrifice," Tango's eyes glinted dangerously. Impulse flinched, remembering Scott's bloodied body on the altar, the Red King standing above him cruelly. Then he realized, what other chance did they have? They were going to die anyway. They were going to die, so why not give death some meaning?

Perhaps the discovery of the Watchers would mean escape from their inevitable demise.