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Anglet, Aquitaine, France: Le village de la terre verte.

September 18th, 1895.

He clawed at the inside of the carriage, helplessly trying to find a latch to try and pry the door open with so he could jump out and run back to that wretched place. When he couldn't find any he resorted himself to kicking at the supposed door before giving up on that as well. It was useless he would have to wait until he was released to go after his dear Belle. He would gather supplies at his house before going to the village and gathering some people to help him storm the castle and kill that horrid beast. The rid back to the village was bumpy and he was being thrown about the small confines of the carriage as if he were a rag doll. Before he knew it the blasted door became unstuck and was thrown open right as the hard seat shoved him out the opening and into a pile of leaves at the base of the steps to his house.

Belle no! I love you! Don't do this! Those were the last words he spoke to her, that he would probably ever speak to her, and he couldn't even say it to her face as he was being dragged down a bunch of steps. He couldn't even hear her reply of requited love before he was out of the tower, the Beast dragging him along so fast he barely even felt the stone steps along his back. He tried struggling against the beast's strong grip the whole way down the stairs and through the grand entrance hall until he was thrown inside the horrible carriage. Maurice could barely believe just how quickly he had gotten back home. A three hour ride by horse plus an hour long chase through the woods to get to the castle only took, at most, an hour and a half to get back from by magic carriage. He said magic because as he watched the carriage run off and leave him he noticed that it lacked any horses. He made it inside his cabin to warm up and heal a little from his injuries before venturing out to save his daughter. He would need all the strength he could possess to go after the beast and Maurice had gained enough wisdom to know he couldn't possibly do so while sick; it would be foolish to try.

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Anglet, Aquitaine, France: Le village de la terre verte.

September 25th, 1895

It had only been a week, and Maurice felt both stronger and weaker at the same time. He had managed to stay off whatever sickness would have otherwise taken over with what was left of Belle's medicinal herbs, but his house felt empty without his precious daughter in it. He had always wanted to invent and tinker with items since a young age, but without his Belle he couldn't bring himself to pick up a simple screwdriver to fix the squeaky hinge on the kitchen cabinet. He packed a knapsack of food and flags and picked up a small knife before leaving the house for the forest. He was determined to be smart about saving his daughter, he wasn't going to go off in a rage and get lost and leave her at the mercy of the beast.

Once he reached the forest edge he made his first mark in the trunk of a tree with his daughter's initials. He walked ten feet inside the tree line, trying to follow what was left of the carriage's tracks before placing a flag at the base of the next tree. Looking at his compass he could see that the castle was based west of the village. And he was going to go in that direction as best he could. If going off the beaten path was best for the beast it was damn well going to be the best for Maurice.

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Anglet, Aquitaine, France: Le village de la terre verte.

October 17th, 1895.

"Happy Birthday, my darling girl." Maurice cried at his wife's rose bush, hoping for some connection through her to his daughter. Sixteen years old and she wasn't there to give her his wife's gift. Belle's mother had died when she was young and Maurice had never been able to get over it. Evelina had been his soul, his reason for living, and when she left his only solace was the comfort of his seven year old daughter. The bush that held his wife's prized roses was starting to wilt without Belle's attention to it and he felt upset that it should suffer as such. He knew Belle talked to her mother through it when she thought she was alone, but Maurice knew and came to see it as a sign of Evelina as well and he talked to her as well without Belle's knowledge.

He had managed to make into the forest about league, but a rain wiped away the traces left behind by the carriage that brought him back home. He was now trying to find the path by himself and through memory, or what was left of his fading memory. He could once remember having a bright pink face, but the only one that stared back at him now a days was a ghost with hollow eyes. He had lost a lot of weight and could now try and climb trees to spot his destination. As he walked back to his quiet little cottage in the pre-dusk hour before everything became too dark to see. In the distance he heard the snarls and growls of a wolf pack and with a sinking in his gut he hurried back to his cottage, afraid for an unknown reason, as the wolf pack was more then a league away.

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Anglet, Aquitaine, France: Le village de la terre verte.

December 15th, 1895

December was part way through the sleepy village and barely anybody came to check on Maurice anymore. Word had gotten out that Belle was no where to be seen as soon as she didn't make it to the bookshop that first morning, but everyone waved off his senseless drivel about a beast in a castle, hidden away in the forest. He was brought meals by the housewives every know and then, but none of them came by for a social visit to comfort him or keep him company as he was still highly regarded as the harmless old crackpot of the village. Fine, he didn't need their help to find and save his daughter. He could do it all on his own he already had a good idea of how to get back to the castle and he was working to restore the strength he once had to his limbs in order to climb a tall tree to get a better vantage point. He already lost so much weight that Belle would barely be able to recognize him. He knew it wouldn't be long before he would be stuck inside the cottage for the winter and he hoped that the flags he had put out would last through the winter, and not destroy all of his hard work, but he had little hope in the matter.

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Anglet, Aquitaine, France: Le village de la terre verte.

February 10th, 1986.

Maurice checked his flags a hundred feet into forest, but he just shook his head as he found one in the middle the path and knew that his work had been destroyed. It had taken him close to three months to map out his way through the forest and he was growing weak and tired from the effort in his old age. He realized then that he could not achieve his goal of finding his daughter by himself. He packed a sack in hopes that he could convince his target to leave right away for the castle. He was going to talk with the greatest hunter in the land, Gaston.

Gaston, at that moment, was nursing a pint of beer inside the old tavern of the town, Le Croc Loup. His faithful lackey was at his side, trying to cheer him up. Being a prideful man he couldn't get over the rejection that Belle dealt him. Men sniggered behind his back as he walked through the town center with his newest kill. Oh yes he could bag a eighty pound stag just fine, but he couldn't bag a girl of the same weight, they would say. If he can't get a girl to marry him, how could he possibly protect our village. Just thinking about the way people gossiped made him clench his fist hard enough to dent the mug he was holding. He drained the last of the ale from it before demanding another with a harsh pound of his fist against the bar and throwing the now useless hunk of metal behind it.

"It disturbs me to see you so glum, Gaston." LeFou said, handing him his new mug of ale.

"What is wrong with that girl, no one says no to me." Gaston took it and chugged down half the drink in one gulp.

"You're darn right and further more..."

"Dismissed and humiliated, rejected and disgraced, thats what the wench has done to me. I used to get a franc for each pound of meat I brought in and today I only got half. They said the rest could be used to by a new wedding tux." He said, chugging down the last of his ale.

"It's more then I can bare to see, Gaston, no one..."

"I can't bare that I'm out of ale again, but nothing helps, I'm nothing more then a fool to these people now."

"Who you? You are an idol, an icon if I may, and you've got to pull yourself together. Everyone here would love to be you, even if you have been having a hard time lately." LeFou was finally able to finish his sentence, but before he could start another one the barkeep brought more ale and a hearty word for Gaston himself.

"Ev'ryone admires you, I doubt there is anyone in town who doesn't like you or want to be considered your friend. You inspire people, after all, you were the youngest lad in three counties to kill a bear and now youngsters are trying to be like you in anyway they can, and its not hard to see why."

"No one is as quick as you!"

"No one as manly!"

"You have the thickest neck!" people started shouting out compliments left and right. In the commotion everyone tried to get closer to the man in question and LeFou was left to be in charge of crowd control. He knocked a couple people's beer's out of their hands and they became upset at him, lifting him up to throw him across the room, even as he still spoke of his friend's best qualities. He was the only one who knew that inflating Gaston's ego was the only way to keep him from murdering people on a regular basis with his temper. He had been trying on his own for a while now but had been coming to the realization that he needed help and he finally found the opportunity. He knew what he needed to say next to turn his mood.

"A paragon of masculinity, you are!" he was thrown across the room, but Gaston caught him before he could land and set him down, obviously in a better mood.

"Well who could deny that when they look at me, I am a perfect specimen." Hurrahs went up around the room at his words and LeFou took his chance to stand on one of the table and make his next announcement.

"Gaston is the best and the rest is all dregs!" his small size made it easy for him to be lifted up and tossed from person to person in a celebratory manner. Sometimes it helped to still be the same size as when he was still in school.

"No one fights like Gaston!"

"No one matches wit like him!"

"In a wrestling match no one bites like him!" the crowd was turning into a rowdy party and out from the woodwork came triplet sisters who were known to have large crushes on Gaston and they spoke in unison.

"There's no one as brawny as you." The brunette spoke.

"There's nothing scrawny about you." The blond said.

"You have biceps to spare." The red head cooed at him.

"Well you know, as a lad I ate nearly four dozen eggs every day to get stronger, and it worked so well that now I've added an extra dozen to my diet. I've gotten so large that I'm larger then most horses." The men laughed and whistled while the girls agreed without catching his thinly veiled reference.

"And no one shoots or hunts like you, Gaston!" LeFou added, but before anyone could add anything else to the growing list, the tavern door came flying open as Maurice came charging in.

"Oh I need your help. I have been trying to find her on my own, but the flags have been displaced and it took me months to get this far, and if we don't well then he will do God only knows what to her!"

"Maurice!" Gaston yelled out over his rambling, stopping him from going person to person in looks of help. "You are making absolutely no sense, old man. What is going on? Start from the beginning."

"I went to the fair a couple towns away at the beginning of fall, but I got lost and stumbled upon a castle. Once inside I was greeted with the most delightful trinkets that were really servants that had been enchanted. And then the horrible master, a beast came and locked me in his tower, and then Belle came for me and he took her and sent me home."

"A beast you say?" LeFou mocked. "How tall was he?"

"He was enormous, his voice was so deep and gravely that I thought he had eaten metal at one point in his life."

"A talking beast?" on of the other spectators mocked. "Have you taken any medicine tonight, or did you get hit on the head by one of your 'inventions." The tavern erupted in laughter and Maurice became flustered and embarrassed.

"Its true I tell you, the beast has Belle, locked in the tower of his castle and we have to save her! I came for your help Gaston. You are the best in the whole village, the whole county for crying out loud. You can track a deer with three days head start!"

"That may be true, Maurice, but you are speaking nonsense. Be gone with you and your lunatic ramblings!" Gaston waved his hand to the door and turned back to his barstool. His fellow patrons grabbed the old man and flung him out the door. As he picked himself up out of a pile of snow and started to weep for his daughter.

"Will no one help me; help my Belle?"