(The scene opens up with JOCELIN sleeping ‘peacefully’ in a serene forest setting. He is sprawled out next to a log with a few cute and fluffy, but most certainly dead, forest critters on the other side, out of his sight, and is covered by nothing but a bloodied sheet. His normally tied up, dark brown hair has flopped into his face, which seems to be too tired to mind. He’s a very gangly, skinny boy with a slightly tan complexion and a thin line of sun-freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his crooked nose.)
JOCELIN (narration)
It was through some random twist of fate that I found myself in a strange forest halfway across the country.
(He opens his eyes and looks around.)
It was through an even more random twist that I was unable to find my clothes. All that I remembered was leaving the house for no more than a few minutes…
(Cut back to JOCELIN getting up from a gaudy fortune-telling table with a bag in his hand and walking out the door.)
JOCELIN
I’ll be back, mother.
(The door slams and we cut to him sitting groggily against the log)
…and absolutely nothing after that. I assumed that I must’ve been out for quite a long while. Drugged, perhaps? Poisoned? Hallucinating? No, they were all too simple, too easy to be the real explanation for this sudden…shall we say—
(JOCELIN straightens up quickly, expression fearful, and stays dead still as he looks down at a dying bunny. After a couple panels, he screams)
—relocation?
(At JOCELIN’s scream, we switch to a view of the forest from the streets of a village. The town guard, holding spears, look down from their guard tower as his shriek sends a flock of birds flying out of the treetops. The townspeople pause for a moment. We see a mysterious, somewhat menacing grin before going back to JOCELIN, now panting and standing on the log, holding the sheet around himself, looking down at the now dead rabbit.)
I don’t think it was so much about the fact that I didn’t know where I was and more about my crippling fear of how I’d gotten there. And the rabbit. That didn’t help matters.
JOCELIN
M-m-m-mother?
(A leaf rustles. JOCELIN yelps and jumps back. His foot touches the tail of a dead squirrel. He screams and trips over it. Blank panel. When we return, JOCELIN opens his eyes and sees a blurry Y. standing over him. He blinks again, clearing up the image of the androgynous guard. Y., although built very muscularly, has quite the womanly face and some hints of curves. S/he lifts him by his sheet-toga.)
Y.
Intruder!
JOCELIN
(With a very nervous look on his face)
Actually…the forest is public property, so I have every right to…
(He sees the glaring look on Y.’s face and quickly shuts up.)
Y.
Do you want to go to jail, young man?
JOCELIN
You know, I’ve got quite a bit of life I want to live before I get myself a criminal record. I mean, how am I supposed to get a secure job if you write me up as a felon, Mr….Mrs…Ms…
Y.
Just Y.
JOCELIN
Are we on a first name basis, Mr., Mrs., Ms….?
Y.
Just Y.
JOCELIN
(Holds out his hand, but is dropped flat on his back. He gets up and sticks it out again.)
Jocelin. Jocelin Landry. This place doesn’t happen to be anywhere in the vicinity of Orléans, does it? That’s, uh, where I’m from.
Y.
A gypsy, then? I heard the caravan was passing through there.
JOCELIN
(Grins and jumps up on the log excitedly)
Yes! Yes, yes!
(Beat)
Unless that, er, doesn’t help my cause. In that case, I’m really half-French.
(Pauses contemplatively, then shakes Y.’s hand rapidly)
Hi, I’m Jocelin Landry!
(Y. leans in and sniffs him. JOCELIN shrinks down until he’s sitting on the log. He pulls the sheet tighter around himself and grins as if to break the ice)
Y.
Blood.
JOCELIN
Excuse me, Y., but the way you just say ‘BLOOD’ is quite the vague statement and you’re getting a little too close for comfort, so I suggest you back up before I start screaming again.
Y.
You smell of blood and game, Monsieur Landry.
(Y. picks up the recently dead rabbit by its ears and prods it.)
You do know that unauthorized animal and human hunting in this area is strictly forbidden.
(JOCELIN starts to panic at the mention of human hunting. Y. sighs.)
It’s only a precautionary law. But murder is still illegal.