They met at the center, between the two armies. As they came closer, Tigger noticed Roo’s unsteadiness while riding the Woozle. A Woozles body may look soft from the outside, but inside is like stone and glass. Whether or not this was the reason for his tipsy ride didn’t matter. To Tigger it only emphasized the form of the unprepared child they were facing. Looking to Kanga, he saw that she had fallen behind slightly. Her eyes squinted at the sight of her son. She urged her horse to move ahead, but at a slow pace. Once they were within a few feet of each other all riders stopped. The snow quickly settled on them as all waited for someone to speak. Roo remained perched with his hood over his face. Tigger sneered at the moody child and once again turned to Kanga. She was silent, almost meditative.

“It’s time to end this.” Tigger announced this loud enough for everyone to hear while looking directly at Roo. His voice awakened Kanga from her thoughts. She shook her head, but her brows remained strained.

“Yes Roo you….you must…” She stared at him and started backing away. Her breaths quickened as her eyes grew wide.

“What...what is this?” She said this in a low whisper.

Tigger watched Kanga carefully. She looked ready to run. He was about to tell her to talk to her son, but a small voice stopped his thoughts.

“Help.” was all that came from Roo. It was pleading, pathetic, and to Tigger, hauntingly familiar. The Woozles all started to make a chittering noise that grew louder with each second.

“Who are you?” Kanga demanded to Roo.

Looking away from Kanga, Tigger drew his sword and plunged it into the face of the hooded figure. A loud scream rose from underneath the hood as it fell over revealing a Jagular.