As the man's gaze sharpened, Dipull felt something dripping from his nose. It was postnasal driping. Dipull wiped the back of his hand across both nostrils, then looked down to see his hand almost fully covered in his own blood. He felt a little weak but... Bob.
"...."
Dipull didn't say anything but gazed back, his eyes determined to save Bob. The man raised an eyebrow and then said, "Oh... so you want to fight? That's what I guess from you staring at me like that."
A symbol moved, forming the Transit Version. *Poof!* Dipull was behind the man almost instantly. The man turned quickly, but the symbol had already shifted back to its original form. Dipull threw a straight punch at the man's face. *Squelch.*
"..."
Dipull slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He saw blood splattered everywhere, coating the snow dark red. "What did I just do?" ran through Dipull's mind, but he shook his head and started to run. "Bob... you can't leave me now."
As the wind grew harsher, Dipull struggled to move. The move he had just performed drained all his body's energy and even took a toll on his body. He collapsed into the snow, powerless. As he hovered on the edge of death, he thought, "Is this the end? I still wanted to know the answers to my questions..."
"...."
The snow stopped falling, and the sound of footsteps approached. A voice spoke, "Finally found you two. You aren't dead, right?"
Weeks passed. Dipull's eyes slowly opened to the sound of a crackling fire. He looked around and found himself in a house. Touching his chin, he realized it was normal, as if nothing had happened. He saw a door.
"Where am I?"
Dipull stood up and walked to the door. He slowly opened it and saw a woman with glasses reading a book. She looked up and smiled.
"Good morning."
She Said as Dipull Replied with the same.
"Good morning?"
She closed her book and placed it on a nearby table. Dipull's mind was racing with questions: Where am I? How did I get here? Where is Bob?
"Uh... can I ask who you are?"
The woman gazed at Dipull and replied, "I'm Drusilla Van Afra. And you?"
"Dipull."
"Oh? That's a strange name. I've never heard it before, but it suits you."
She placed her hand on her chin, but Dipull had more pressing questions.
"How is the penguin?"
"Oh, you mean your friend? He's still sleeping. He was hurt pretty badly. It will take at least a month or two."
"Hmm... and where is he?"
Drusilla calmly replied, "He's in the room next to yours."
Dipull looked around the house. It wasn't very big, slightly larger than Bob's back home, with three doors—one leading outside and two inside—and two fireplaces.
"I have another question, Drusilla."
She glared back at him. "Make it fast."
"How did I even get here?"
"Your horse friend told me some things. He said you three needed help, so I'm just taking you in for now."
Dipull was confused about her mention of a horse friend but then remembered... Vlad! But wait... since when could he speak?
"Never mind."
Dipull turned and walked to the next door, the one next to his room. Drusilla sighed deeply, picked up her book, and resumed reading. Dipull opened the door slowly. He saw a chair next to a bed where Bob lay, covered in a colorful blanket and bandages. Dipull closed the door behind him, stepped forward, and sat in the chair. Looking at Bob, he couldn't help but feel tears forming in his eyes. He was happy, sad, proud, and hopeful.
"Hm... well, looks like I didn't die today. That's good."
End