Individual Protective Devices and Animals

Obtaining a weapon is crucial upon leaving the pale. Threat include being thrown in dungeon or drain, or being whipped by vagrants. Potential devices include slings, staff slings, half a brick, old parking meters, bones, tinfoil, trebuchet, poison, picks for carving spyholes in walls (especially those of labyrinths), grappling hooks, bamboo pipes to use as snorkels, flying blenders, flares, spears, atom bombs, shields. In the absence of such obvious weapons, a stick or piece of yard waste should be easy to obtain.

Fylgja (animal souls) protect their human counter parts in the absence of individual protective devices, but it is important to recognize that these animal souls are hardly invulnerable (see also: Notes on Lost Children, Vulnerabilities, and Pets). 

Animals, the most loyal companions will never be discouraged if their owner is forced to don an individual protective device that doubles as a disguise.

Notes on Lost Child, Vulnerabilities, and Pets

There has been some speculation on the possibility that a Lost Child who, spending eons beyond the pale, may metamorphose into a Madman. While typically, the Lost Child's ability to navigate the dominion beyond the pale remains unrivaled by Hero, Clown, and Scapegoat, we should not assume that the Lost Child is at any time safe beyond the pale.  Quite to the contrary, the Lost Child is so adept at walking around landmines and invisibility that she wanders the beyond without hazard because she is uniquely equipped to do so.



In a sense, by remaining beyond the pale, the Lost Child often achieves the role of Hero in her own mind, and indeed functions as one.  Like any Hero, she possesses a proverbial Achilles Heel.  The Lost Child's sensitivity to animals and perpetual search for a long ago velveteen rabbit creates a temporary cataract of sorts, one that can sometimes blocks her peripheral vision.  While the gentle Lost Child is not one to disturb sneaks of weasels or other dangerous animals, she does bond with chipmunks, prairie dogs, and marmots.

When the Lost Child adopts an animal as a pet, the animal's well-being fuses with the Lost Child's own weak inclination towards self preservation;  any ill befalling the Lost Child's companion will send her spiraling into madness. If the animal is harmed, the Lost Child's pain will destroy her invisibility, making her an easy target for the known dangers.

Those who are mad beyond the pale appear irretrievably beyond.

The watchful quivering rabbits, too timid to approach her, will continue to cluster around the Lost Child. It is there presence that alerts travelers to the possibility that a seemingly random Madman may indeed be a former Lost Child who is unable to cope without his or her pet.

The fact that the Lost Child will behave in exactly the same way if she loses a pet within the pale is further proof that to her, the region beyond the pale appeals to her because she is less likely to be harmed.

Anyone who wishes to help a Lost Child must consider the pet's needs equal to or as is often the case, greater than the needs of the Lost Child.

See also:  fylgja, catatonia, madman.

The Terrible Father

The Hero is most likely to come to the aid of aging or ill parents, even if The Terrible Father is the one requesting aid. The Hero's attempts to care for The Terrible Father may test his limits and drive him beyond the pale. The more afraid of becoming a terrible father The Hero is, the more likely he will be to make accommodations to keep said father from living in a home for the elderly.

When a Lost Child has not yet reached adulthood and is trapped in the home of The Terrible Father, the Lost Child may display qualities of The Hero in the event that The Terrible Father does something like filling the hole chipmunks live in with soil, attempting to suffocate them.  The Lost Child loses the defense mechanism of invisibility when these smallest animals are threatened.  The rabbits, always aware of the perils the Lost Child faces, remain cloaked in their panic - beyond her line of sight.

The rabbits, kings of nervous things, are her true keepers, albeit unbeknown to her.

Above is a scan from The Rabbit Box, a beautifully illustrated book written by Joseph Pintauro and illustrated by Norman Laliberte © 1970.  This book, the second in a series of four (The Peace Box, The Rabbit Box, A Box of Sun, The Magic Box) which together with a poster and cube make The Rainbow Box, has been a major influence on the life and times of panic of rabbits - a researcher who shifts between all four roles identified as those of children in a dysfunctional family, but prefers Lost Child and sometimes Scapegoat. This writer has been able to acquire each of the four books, but not the poster and cube.  The Rabbit Box should be required reading for all children and adults, lost or otherwise, especially those afflicted by love, requited or unrequited.