Birdsong filled the air as Tristian and Ianna skipped down the blue brick road. The swishing and swaying of Ianna's silk skirt matched the tempo of a nearby brook that burbled out a merry tune, and Tristian's iron tipped boots provided a percussive rhythm. Most musical of all was the sweet laughter coming from both of the women, for they knew the blue brick road would take them to a marvellous place.

After a while, they came across a vast green field where a scarecrow hung from a wooden pole. He had straw blond hair -- perhaps it was simply straw -- that peeped out from underneath a leather cap.

"Goodness, he does look miserable up there, does he not?" Ianna said, pressing a hand to her heart.

Tristian, not one to disagree with her lady-love's lamentations, nodded in agreement. "Indeed, it is quite the predicament. Perhaps we ought lend him our assistance, hm?"

At this, Ianna clapped her hands together. "Oh, yes! Please do! I fear I cannot lift so great a scarecrow on my own, but perhaps if we were to each take one of his arms--"

"Nonsense, my dearest one. I have muscle enough for such a feat." True to her word, Tristian leapt the fence and made her way into the field. Without breaking a sweat, she hefted the scarecrow from his post and carried him back to the blue brick road over her shoulder.

Ianna tried not to swoon, but such a goal was unachievable in the face of such rippling muscles and beauty.

Tristian set the scarecrow on his feet and dusted him off. "There. How do you this day, scarecrow?"

He shook his head, sending pill bugs and bits of straw scattering about. "My word! How that pole made my back ache!" He dipped into a clumsy bow. "Thank you, my ladies, for your great kindness this day! If I may introduce myself: I am Dante, a simple scarecrow of Genoa. And who might you two be?"

Ianna offered her hand. "I am Ianna, and the darling lady who saved you is my dearest Tristian." She spared Tristian a coy smile as she spoke her name.

Dante took Ianna's hand and kissed it before bowing to Tristian. "Ah, to be rescued by such fine women: truly, a scarecrow could ask for nothing better! If I may ask, what do you here upon the blue brick road."

Tristian returned Ianna's smile and squeezed her hand as she answered. "We seek the capitol of Genoa so we might visit with the wizard."

"The wizard!" Dante gasped. "Why, I, too, have always dreamed of seeing the wizard! You see," and he leaned in conspiratorially as he said this, "I am in dire need of a brain. It is most unfortunate."

Ianna chuckled. "A brain? But, Dante, my fine fellow, you are so well spoken! For what reason would you need a new brain?"

Dante heaved a sigh so heavy and melancholy, one might think him about to reveal some tragic backstory. "Well, perhaps not a brain, per se: really what I require is a sense of perception with, well... women." Another sigh. "You see, every time I fall in love with a lady, she turns out to be disinterested in men entirely! How am I ever to have a romance if that is my fate?"

Tristian gave a solemn nod. "That is quite the trouble. Say, perhaps you should join us on our journey! Then you might speak to the wizard and gain this perception you lack."

A smile spread itself across Dante's face. "Oh, truly? You would offer such a thing? My dear lady!" He took Tristian's hands and gave them a great many kisses. "I would happily accept such a proposal!"

Tristian glanced sideways at Ianna, who giggled under her breath at Dante.

Dante, for his part, straightened up, never letting go of her hands. "Well, I should dearly like to be off, then! I am so excited-- finally, I shall learn some perception. Although..." He gave Tristian's hands a squeeze before gently dropping them. "Perhaps such a thing will be unecessary."

Tristian sighed. Ianna continued to snort into her hands.