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The woods are a pretty sweet setup, really- they're kinda away from the bar, not a whole lot of people go there, except the occasional Dude Sparring in the Clearing or Werewolves (who, at the time, don't usually count as people, at least in the Monster's eyes).

Thus, there is one hideous monstrosity kickin' back out in the wilderness, enjoying a lack of company.

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There's an impressed pause.

"Amazing," he breathes, "A sorceror, at such a young age! Truly, wonders shall never cease in this place."

"What..
Sor-sir-wir?"

"One who can wield magic- or is it that such a feat is known by a different name to you?"

Harold shrugs.
"Dunno."

"Then... such a talent has come naturally to you? The world truly is a place of wonders. I conclude that I can offer no help that you could not make on your own."

Harold really doesn't understand the other's amazement.

He shows him his crayon.
"See? Special crayon.
Mine."
Lots of nodding.

"So... the magic is not in the weilder, but in the object itself? Yet still, to own such a thing..."

He makes his way down the tree carefully.

"Truly, there must be nothing to fear when you've been gifted with such a powerful thing."

Harold frowns.

"My twayon! Dive to me. Only mine!"

Since no one else has ever tried to use it, really he doesn't know that it wouldn't work for anyone else..Still..
Although Harold doesn't remember that The Protector gave him his crayon, (http://users.livejournal.com/_the_protector/") the knowledge that it's his and only his is very strong in him.
He'd protect it for anything.

He stops immediately. "Please do not ascribe any ill motives to this wretch- though I may seem loathsome, I assure you that I meant only a closer look. It would serve you, a babe in the woods, much better than it would myself, a creature built to survive and thrive in such a location."

Harold eyes him. He looks at Snowball, then back at him.

"'tay"
All's forgiven.

He smiles with relief- not the most attractive sight- and kneels so he isn't towering over the kid.

"I beg forgiveness- I've not even introduced myself. I am William Damon von Frankenstein. Might I ask the pleasure of your own name?"

"Me Harold." He nods, then frowns.
"Will-am..Dabenon Fwankle?"

OK, that's just cute. He grins warmly.

"I will take no offense if you merely use William. It is a distinct pleasure to make your acquaintance, Harold."

He glances around. "I should very much like to help you, though it seems I can be of little aid. Please, tell me- is there anything you want for at this moment?"

He's got his face screwed up, concentrating. "Frankle..en.
Damenononon.." It's a very hard name for a little boy.
"Frankle?"

He sighs lightly, then shrugs.
"Like you. You nice."

"Frankle... such a name is not unappealing." She returns the smile. "It is a rare circumstance to be called such... I am feared by most for my monstrous form. It pleases me to find one who would not take this against me."

Harold frowns.

"Frankle no scary."

Sweeter words have never come to his ears.

"It heartens me to hear so." A pause, then, "If it would please you... I should like to accompany you in these woods. Perhaps it would do well to have a companion who is familiar with the area? It is my home now, after all, and I should be remiss were I to leave a stranger to them with no guidance."

"Frankle come?"
Harold grins.
"Yay!"

He beams.

"Indeed, I should be glad of the company. Visitors are rare, and we who cannot be welcome in the tavern must cleave to one another, is this not so?"

Harold doesn't quite understand what he means, but nods happily anyway. He likes Frankle lots and he is glad to have a friend.

"You lib in twee?" He point into the tree that the other was hiding in when Harold approached.

"Er, no... your dog had frightened me, you understand..." He gestures in a direction. "I have a house a small distance away."

"'nowball nice!" Harold pets her. "She dood doggie.

Hous'?"

"My dear friend made it for me; a place where I might stay away from the tavern and the many people inside. It is quite a comfortable place."

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