With Drust and Elayra at their current HQ, Ghent felt vulnerable. A shadowmire could lurk in the comforts of any shadow; it wouldn't have been at all difficult to hide and spring a surprise attack. As an added precaution, Ghent practiced drawing the dagger from his sleeve a few times. The motion was sloppy, yet quick enough to work. Right now, that's all that mattered.
	Ghent ran most of the way downtown until a sharp stitch in his side forced him to slow. Experiencing pain in the area was a reminder of his aching rib cage; Drust had landed a powerful blow back at the shop. 
	The memory of his newly appointed guardian was enough to make Ghent grimace. At this rate, they would never get along. Elayra was no better; she would not accept help, she would not accept sympathy...she barely seemed to accept[i] him.[/i]
 	If what Elayra said was true, they had been friends at one time. That would not happen again. How could they ever hope to be? Ghent didn't belong, he couldn't relate to them. Not in the slightest. The past was too far gone and the future looked dim.
	One thought morphed into the other. It wasn't long before Ghent started to wonder about his father again. Hatter, as he'd been called. Ghent could scarcely imagine who he was, what he was like, or what had become of him. [i]What fate could be worse than death? [/i] No one had mentioned his mother yet. Ghent's heart sank at the thought; she may have died along with Elayra's kin.
	Brows knit in contemplation, Ghent was beginning to see how lucky he'd been to live on Earth. If Elayra had gone through the portal first, [i]he[/i] would have been stuck in Wonderland with Drust for all these years. Things may have been very, very different.
	The realization was a sobering one. For much of his life, Ghent believed himself rather unfortunate. Right now, he saw that he'd gotten off easily. 

[hr]

	By the time Ghent made it to Burger King, it was well past normal dinner hours. Aside from a trucker and an older couple, the place was void of diners. This was preferable; there were no lines and there wouldn't be pressure to order quickly. The place smelled strongly of grease and artificial flavoring, a sure indication that the food tasted good.
	"Can I take your order?" The blonde at the counter couldn't have been more than two years older than him. Ghent could speak easily enough to adults -- speaking to people within his age group usually made him self-conscious. 
	Embarrassed, Ghent used his sleeve to clean some dried dirt from his cheek. Why hadn't he thought to clean up sooner? The girl's gaze was penetrating -- he felt as if she could see the dagger underneath his shirt. 
	"Yeah...sure. I'd like to order...something." As pathetic as it was, Ghent wished his mother were there to order the meal for him. 
	"Um...three of the largest hamburgers you've got. No onions. Three large fries should work..." Eyes scanning the menu, Ghent kept his arm firmly against his side to keep the dagger in place. "And three chocolate milkshakes. Can I get lids on those? This is to go." Ordering food while hungry was never a good thing; he'd ordered impulsively for everything. 
	"That will be $28.85." The girl raised an eyebrow as Ghent opened an envelope to retrieve his money. Odd as the boy was, she wasn't overly surprised. Some of the strangest customers came around during the night shift. 
	After he received his change, Ghent filled up on ketchup and mustard packets while he waited for his order to be filled. One could never have too many of those.
	A few minutes later, a group of teenagers arrived, two with skateboards, all wearing beanies. They were talking loudly, goofing around with one another and causing more of a ruckus than necessary. Ghent would have settled for ignoring them, but a backpack the tallest of the males carried with him had caught his eye. 
[i]	Desperate times called for desperate measures.[/i]
	"Hey guys." Ghent approached them, playing it cool. "Nice backpack."
	The male exchanged glances with his squad, then looked back to Ghent, cocking an eyebrow. "Thanks?"
	"I know this is out of the blue, but I've been looking for one just like that." Ghent's heart was racing as he spoke. The dagger slipped a little, so he pinched his sleeve closed with a clammy hand. "You know, with skulls all over it." 
	The teenagers were laughing until Ghent held up a wad of cash.
	"Think I could buy it off you?"

[hr]

	Despite a broken zipper, the backpack had been a good purchase. There was more than enough room to store the bags of burgers and fries inside. Once those had been stored, Ghent used one hand to carry the bag containing the milkshakes. With the other hand, he carried his own milkshake to sip on the way. 
	Running was not possible with so much food at risk. Ghent kept a steady pace, keeping alert for any movement along the shops he passed by. Coming back seemed to take less time than setting out. The park was coming into view, and Ghent cut through some of the taller grass in order to reach the shack sooner. If this was to be his last meal on Earth, he wanted that meal to be hot. Nothing was worse than cold fries.
	Ghent breathed an overdue sigh of relief when the outline of the shack came into view. The streetlamps didn't reach this far back; it was barely visible and would have been missed completely if one was not familiar with the location.
	Remembering how jumpy the Wonderlanders were, Ghent opened the door, then knocked on the wood twice to announce his presence. 
	"You can put the weapons down. It's just me." Ghent didn't know for sure if they'd drawn them, he was basing this off of past experience with the two.