[Ever since magic returned to Storybrooke and the spark of life returned to August's wooden body, he kept himself hidden. No one in the town would give him a second look, being a fully grown wooden man, but he can't bring himself to be seen anyway. Not when he would be a disappointment, when Blue would look at him with pity for his inability to just be good, when Gipetto would be distraught.
He's listened in, he knows Emma isn't around. He'll wait, he decides, until she's rescued. There's nothing he can do like this anyway, creaking and fragile.
It's only nights when he comes back into town from the woods, collecting anything he might need or want, even if what he might need or want is a glimpse of his father in the window or Henry going up to Mary Margaret's apartment with David. Now is one of those nights, in which he was trying to sneak into the inn, to get some things from his room.
At the sound of feet, he hid, and just in time to see Red change. Two people thinking they were alone.]
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He's listened in, he knows Emma isn't around. He'll wait, he decides, until she's rescued. There's nothing he can do like this anyway, creaking and fragile.
It's only nights when he comes back into town from the woods, collecting anything he might need or want, even if what he might need or want is a glimpse of his father in the window or Henry going up to Mary Margaret's apartment with David. Now is one of those nights, in which he was trying to sneak into the inn, to get some things from his room.
At the sound of feet, he hid, and just in time to see Red change. Two people thinking they were alone.]