Chapter Text
Hello Everyone! Thank you so much for all the support on the first book you gave me. I have decided to continue on with the story, but instead of being set after my first book, it will be set after the second season, (just pretend all the canon stuff from my first book transferred over to the second season lol, also Bruno doesn’t exist haha). So if you haven’t read my first book, please read that first or this won’t make as much sense! Thanks so much again!!! I hope you all enjoy!
~School break, three weeks after Nevermore shut down for the second semester~
“Kiddo, you know that she won’t be able to hear you right?” Fester swerves his motorcycle out of the way of a fallen tree.
Wednesday, sitting in the side cart, keeps an antique wolf whistle placed between her lips. It’s silver, and cold, originally designed to hunt werewolves but Wednesday has another use in mind for it. It cost a fortune but money is not something the Addams have a hard time parting with, especially when it involves the rescue of one of their own’s intended.
Wednesday removes the cold comfort from her mouth and turns back to Fester, “The sound can travel miles, surely if we keep due north, eventually it will reach her ears.”
“How will she know it’s you?” Fester cackles to himself in his manic way.
Wednesday clenches her jaw and grips the freezing whistle in her palm. She has thought of this before, yet she’s fallen short of any type of solution. She has read every book available, talked to every professional that she can trap, yet the only thing she can think of is this stupid whistle.
Wednesday grips her necklace and whispers Enid’s name to herself three times.
Nothing.
No matter how strong Wednesday’s curse was, if Enid somehow lost her necklace, there is no way to find her…. Or worse, if Enid has already been caught-
The breeze whips through Wednesday’s braids with a ferocity that helps to distract her from the aching in her chest. Enid never should have risked her life to dig Wednesday up. How stupid. Wednesday should have died if that’s what needed to happen. She spent the entire semester preventing Enid’s death, yet, even when her vision changed, fate did not.
“Uh-oh, border line! Get your fake kid.” Fester’s motorcycle putters up to a guarded gate with a maple leaf flag erected next to it.
“Hello,” A smiling man in a military uniform greets the pair.
“Hi there,” Fester greets; his fake passport in hand.
The officer takes the passports from Fester and Wednesday and looks them over. For a moment, he seems puzzled.
“Fester Fiesta and… Viper de la Muerte?” The man furrows his brows and peers back up at the motorcycle.
“Yes sir!” Fester giggles. Wednesday just nods.
“Okay well, I have to ask what the purpose of your visit is.” The man clears his throat and hands back the passports.
“Hunting,” Wednesday answers, her voice low. Every second that she wastes on this imbecile is a second further away that Enid gets.
“Do you have your hunting licenses with you?” he asks.
Fester pulls out more random fake pieces of paper from his pocket. He hands over the crumpled, and slightly, mysteriously, wet licenses.
The man takes the papers and looks them over curiously. “How in the world did you get a license to hunt wolves?”
“We are a research group. A trap and release.” Wednesday lies.
The man takes a few moments to stare at them both. He doesn’t seem convinced.
Wednesday slides one of her daggers down her coat sleeve. She grips the cold metal handle in her palm. She won’t hurt the man… too much, but if he doesn’t let them pass then she knows she can use the blunt handle to knock him cold for at least a few minutes so they can speed by.
“Alright, well you two have fun. The nearest rest stop is aboot three miles further north.” The man slides his key card against a pole, which lifts the red and white gate,
The two Addams’ speed off with the tires screeching against the icy road. With winter fast approaching, Wednesday knows that once the snow sets in permanently, it will be nearly impossible to find Enid.
The trees turn into a blur of brown and green while Wednesday sounds her whistle. The cold air bites against her fingertips and cheeks, causing them to sting; but a little pain has never been a problem for her. She places a fingertip against the faded scar on her cheek. A beautiful scar she has worn proudly since that night. Enid felt so bad when it first happened, Wednesday knows she probably still does; yet, for her, it's a mark of pride. The scar reminds her everyday of her intended’s power and grace.
“You know I have an old Canadian werewolf friend near here, I'm sure he could help sniff out your pup.” Fester offers loudly over the roaring of his bike.
“No,” Wednesday declines, “We can’t trust any werewolves, Fester. Mrs Capri says it’s in their nature to hunt down a lone alpha.”
“I’ve never heard that before, are you sure-”
A rustle in the trees stops both Addams in their tracks, with Fester bringing the bike to a screeching stop. The sound was loud enough to be heard over Fester’s motor. There are only a few animals of that size in these woods.
Fester unsheaths a collapsable crossbow from a bag tied to the back of the motorcycle.
“Put it down,” Wednesday demands, glaring at fester with cold eyes. The last thing she would ever want to do is hurt Enid… not again.
“It could be a bear,” Fester rebuts, “I’ve always wanted a bear fur coat.”
Wednesday nearly rolls her eyes in disgust, before climbing out of the side cart and moving towards the treeline. “You stay here, you’ll only scare her away.”
Fester chuckles, announcing, “it's your funeral kid”, as he turns off his motor completely and takes out a book… which he promptly starts tearing pages from to eat.
Wednesday ignores Fester’s warning, slowly making her way into the brush. With each step she feels her heart begin to pound. What is she about to find? Who is she about to find? Will Enid even remember her? Her other half has spent so long in a wild state, will she ever be able to return to the raven?
As she ventures deeper, the raven-haired girl sees broken tree branches leading away into a clearing. In the clearing, there is a lump of brown fur behind a shield of grass. Wednesday picks up her pace, trampling small plants under her thick, black boots.
Once Wednesday is close enough to distinguish the shapes of the beast, she notices the antlers.
It is a baby moose all alone in the forest. Wednesday’s stomach drops as she lets out a hint of a sigh. This doesn’t make any sense. How could such a small animal do such damage to its surroundings?
Then the realization hits her. Just as her own annoying mother refuses to leave her alone, this baby moose is likely not far from its, very angry, parent.
Before she can begin to race her way out of the woods, Wednesday hears a powerful huff behind her. She whips herself around to be met with a seven foot, angry, antlered female beginning to dig her hoof into the dirt.
Fuck.
Wednesday attempts to release a blade into her hand from her sleeve, but her speed is no match for the antlered-mother. It charges her, bowing its neck to ram into the small girl. Less than a second before impact, Wednesday manages to grasp her weapon and raise her arm, before hearing a short whistle and a puncture.
The moose bucks up on its hind legs, whining.
Wednesday sees Fester with a crossbow, standing just a few trees away. She takes the briefly given moment to dive out of the way as the moose slams its front half back down to the ground and trots away with its calf swift behind. Wednesday can see one of Fester’s whistling arrows wedged in the creature's hind leg
“Your timing is appreciated Uncle Fester,” Wednesday rises from the frost covered leaves and dusts herself off.
“It’s a shame that mother found you. The Addams’ zoo could use another moose and babies are the easiest to capture.” Fester begins to wipe down his crossbow before collapsing it once again, “Though moose are very vigilant creatures; you’d practically have to be invisible to sneak past them.” Fester starts to cackle.
Wednesday looks back into the woods at the trampled branches left behind by the calf and its mother. Invisible…
“Fester,” Wednesday turns her head back to her uncle, who seems to be examining his other arrows (by holding the points ever so close to his eye). He lifts his gaze to his niece with a raised eyebrow… well, he would have if he had eyebrows.
“Do you have a phone?” Wednesday asks.
“I haven’t had a phone since Debbie tried to strangle me with the cord of one,” Fester gazes off into the distance fondly with a smile.
“Do you know where we can get one? Preferably one with a screen as much as it pains me to ask.” Wednesday questions.
“Hmm,” Fester ponders, “I believe your uncle Poncho Addams has one of those things. Poncho always has all the fanciest new things- and he lives near here! Though I don’t think your father would be happy about you visiting our little brother.”
“What happened to family first and family last?” Wednesday feels her patience begin to waver. She has heard of Uncle Poncho, and remembers meeting him as a kid, but he hasn’t been to a family event in many years. Not showing up for family reunions is very peculiar for an Addams.
“Well if there is one person your father puts above all else, that would be Morticia.” Fester turns around to walk back to the road, “but I will tell you that story on the way there.”