A journey of a thousand pounds begins with a single step... if you can manage it.

You realize that despite looking for fairies and magical persons in disguise would be great an all, you have absolutely no leads to go on as to where to even begin looking. "Well, I guess I can't think of where to even start." you admit glumly, "I guess we'll just have to keep going and hope we find something or someone." You try to get to your feet again, with the same results from last time. Rodger grabs you by the arms and pulls you to your feet again with much panting. "Well, how are we going to get you around then?" he asks. You grimace, "I guess walking... waddling is my only option right now," you say, and lift a leg slowly. When you bring it down you swear the earth shakes, but you continue pushing yourself slowly, panting with effort with every step, "Be... be... sides," you say, out of breath already, "I... need... the..." you stop and take a few short gasps, "Exercise?" offers Rodger, and you bend over, nodding as you gulp down air before taking another step... and promptly collapsing, your face red from exertion. Rodger looks at you with what you can only describe as pity, "This is going to be a long walk," he says. "Just... just give me a sec..." you pant, trying to stop the world from spinning.

After a couple of minutes, you get to your feet again with Rodger's help and try again, trying hard to pull your own weight. It's grueling work, but you start to get the hang of it, even if you have to stop every few steps to catch your breath, but your body begins to adapt. You won't be running any marathons any time soon, but you eventually get your waddling down to where your at least making progress. Rodger walks slowly beside you giving a few words of encouragement... and to pick you up whenever you collapse again... which happens often.

But progress is progress, and soon you get away from where you first saw the Gingerbread house and find a path. You and Rodger follow it and eventually come to a crossroad, a sign pointing several directions. "Where do you think we should go?" you ask Rodger after getting your breath back, feeling your feet ache from carrying so much weight, and feeling a bit sea sick from all the bouncing your body has done as you walk. Rodger looks at the signs and says...

Written by an anonymous author

"Town I guess."

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