As good as it felt to tell off an imaginary deity, it ended up coming with a noticeable downside. Sue’s old professors would’ve been up in arms at her linking the two events based on nothing but coincidence, but since they weren’t the ones that had to deal with their dreams being invaded, their opinion didn’t count anymore.
She slept like crap.
Doc shook her arm, making her finally commit to awareness after several hours of restlessness. Exhaustion stuck to her despite her best efforts, showing itself through tired groans and sand in her eyes. Eventually, she tried to sit up, the action only making her soreness worse as she greeted, “G-good mhorning, Doc.”
The medic responded in kind as they checked up on her leg. They found the sight satisfying, in that it hadn’t changed since the previous evening, rating it a soft squeak and an animal-person’s pat of approval out of ten. Sue just smiled and nodded absentmindedly, mentally still not there yet. Doc chuckled briefly at her reaction before turning for the exit door—and stopping right as they were about to press on the handle.
It took Sue embarrassingly long to catch onto that, eyebrows slowly raising as she finally spotted the medic looking at her over their shoulder. Once they’d realized she’d noticed, they changed their plans, pulling out the scroll from yesterday and getting to drawing on its clean side.
Wonder what they’re scribbling over there.
Maybe they were gonna ask her what she wanted? Not like she knew what the things she’d eaten yesterday were, especially with all the fruits and veggies she didn’t recognize. She could try to go off the resemblance to actual food she’s had in the past, but that was about it.
Is this a sandwich, or some weird fruit salad? Not even Duck knows.
Sue chuckled at the thought, thinking back to the supposed depiction of the imagined lunar deity and wondering how much of that was based on any sort of reality. She didn’t think herself creative enough to come up with all she’d seen and heard out of whole cloth. It was probably just a combination of her mental exhaustion and the quirks of this body—that was the only possibility that made sense, really.
Despite everything that had happened so far, her suspension of disbelief didn’t go as far as to let her think that an honest to god... god had actually contacted her in her dreams—let alone two. Imposter from Earth or not, she couldn’t have been anywhere near interesting enough to warrant such an act. Besides, they had clear difficulties communicating with her, quite pitiful if they really were deities.
No matter what their deal was, Sue was sure she wanted nothing to do with them, anyway—
A light tap against her arm snapped her to awareness; eyes darted to the side just in time to catch the medic’s amused expression. It only lasted a moment before they spoke up and offered her the edited scroll. They kept chuckling at her absentmindedness, but she was too focused on their drawing to notice.
A pair of rudimentary comics covered the page, sharing the final panel. The first one featured Doc heading out, walking up to a counter with a tray in their arms, and returning with it now filled. The other, instead, had her tag along with them to the same counter. In either case, the end result was her cartoonishly gorging herself on food, though the latter approach appealed to her much more.
Getting to stretch my legs and scope out the area to plan my getaway? Sign me the hell up.
Enthusiastic nods and pointing at the second drawing were enough to convey her intent. Doc smiled as they whisked the scroll away, waiting for Sue to get up. Now that she actually felt awake, she soon climbed out of the bed, right hand holding onto the rough wood of her crutch like it was her only key to freedom. Which, at this rate, it may very well have been.
Once she was up, Doc nodded encouragingly and held the door open for her like a proper gentle... creature. Maneuvering towards the exit door turned out tricky, especially with the door frame turning out to be an inch shorter than her.
Oh, bother.
Faced with this existential obstacle, Sue decided to try bowing her way under the overhang. With a calculated move that was only partially accidental, she stumbled out the door in one piece. A few moments of desperately regaining her balance later, she successfully came to a stop outside, the sunlight making her squint. She had made it through the five or so meters separating her from the rest of this village—time to behold the spoils.
A breath of fresh air was welcome in both the literal and figurative senses; the chilly breeze reinvigorated Sue as she looked around. There were several cabins just like the one she’d left, and a couple of larger stone buildings on the other side of the path. She could’ve sworn she even saw something reminiscent of barebones machinery through the window of one of the wooden huts.
And all around, creatures of all shapes and sizes—including a literal dragon flying its way overhead. It was nowhere near the size of Smaug, but it still dwarfed her enough to unnerve her, despite being rounded and somewhat non-threateningly orange. Before she could investigate it or the purple mammal with overly long arms passing by, Doc tugged on her free arm.
Sue got the point well enough, turning to follow their footsteps as they headed further into the village. Oddly enough, they didn’t bother to lock the door to their clinic beforehand—but maybe they’d just magicked it shut instead. Half bunny, half marshmallow wizard medics were one thing, but them just leaving the door to their place open was much harder to believe.
A couple of turns later, their trip had led them to a massive plaza, easily the size of multiple football fields. Dozens of creatures filled it, doing everything from just walking and talking, to sunbathing and even making art. It was calm enough to remind her of a Sunday at her local park.
Most of the clearing opened towards the surrounding woods—reassuring, considering her foretold future. Though, on a second look, the large, well-trodden path cutting through the treeline at the opposite side made it too obvious of a getaway route.
The side of the plaza she’d just stepped through was lined up with stalls and kitchens, most with a picnic table or two in front of them. The tables were similar to the ones in her world—not that there was much to improve upon.
That didn’t mean the local mutants didn’t try.
Some tables had benches only along half their length, leaving the other half to just dangle awkwardly. Was it a standing table of some sort? Couldn’t have been too comfortable, but who knows. Sue pondered on that tangent, following Doc as many an inhuman being passed her by. She knew only that they were there, ranging from being shorter than her knee to towering over her.
Overstimulation autopilot made her stumble forward for a few more paces before her sixth sense took notice of the medic trying to catch her attention, spotting them waving for her once she glanced over her shoulder. Seems they had reached their destination.
The stall looked just like Doc’s drawing from earlier, decorated with earthy colors and wooden doodads. A quick look at its inside revealed a well-equipped kitchen, at least as far as pre-industrial cooking technology went. A handful of etched-in drawings of meals were displayed above the counter, though seemingly lacking anything that could denote their price. Above the pictures sat...
Uh-oh.
The writing on the sign might have been crude on behalf of having been sloppily painted on, but it was undeniably the same script she’d seen in her dream last night—guess that part wasn’t just her strained imagination. Which only begged the question, what about the rest of it? Was Duck real? And if so, just what the hell was it, and why did it enter her mind like that?
A fine addition to the fort of confusion in her head, though this particular conundrum felt... more worrisome than anything else.
Before Sue could investigate the possibility that her unusually holy dreams weren’t her own creations, a couple of sounds caught her attention. Namely, knocking on wood and high-pitched grunts, her gaze snapping downwards at their source. The creature before her was... a fairy. Or at least, something fairy-adjacent—though not the Tinkerbell type. A familiar bipedal frame reaching up to her chest-mounted letter opener was welcome, but even that apparent similarity didn’t withstand a closer inspection.
They were a pink blob with a pair of arms, legs, large, black-tipped ears, and spiky… wings? There was no distinction where their face ended and the rest of the body began, making it look almost drawn on. Besides all that, they were also rather impatient, the finding corroborated by Sue’s eyes, ears, and sixth sense alike. Their three-fingered hands tapped rhythmically on the wooden counter as they waited for something. Or rather, someone.
Or even more precisely, her.
Sue was unsure what to do—it’s not like she could just ask what each meal was. Even crudely pointing at the signs got complicated with her being broke. She supposed Doc would cover for her—they took her here and would’ve grabbed something for her regardless—but being put on the spot like that didn’t help her anxiety any.
She hoped that a few ‘ummmm’s would be enough to convey her unease. Fortunately, Doc got what she was getting at right away. Unfortunately, they just tapped her hand before pointing up at the presented meals, cutting through any feigned ignorance she might’ve had.
Alright, what to choose now...
The sketches were far from clear. Some looked like salads, some looked like baked goods, but the rest were, at best, impressionist takes on food, mostly resembling piles of round… things. Maybe one of those was those roasted fruit pieces; those were excellent. Ultimately, she didn’t have a way to know for sure—guess it’d have to come down to random chance.
Confusing everyone around her even further, Sue resorted to the good ol’ arbiter, “E-eehnie, Meehnie, Mhiney, Moe…”
Half a minute and one muttered out tune later, Sue’s little lottery was done. She pried her eyes open, finding herself pointing at a crude approximation of a jam-filled pastry. Not an awful choice to stumble on—suppose Fate saw it fit to provide her with some much-needed reassurance.
Reassurance which was cut into the moment she looked around. Doc and the pink fairy creature were staring at her, completely dumbfounded, baffled about what any of that was. Sue resolved the resulting deadlock by stabbing with what used to be her index finger toward the selected drawing to underline her selection. It conveyed the message, but a realization that soon followed left Sue too distracted to verify that.
Guess what felt like her index finger was now her… middle finger. Huh.
On top of everything else weird about this body, it had an uncanny ability to flip people off by accident—all it really took was pointing at something. The dissonance between what fingers she felt she was using and how her gestures actually looked left her uneasy. Neither Doc nor the other one seemed insulted—in all likelihood, the middle finger as a gesture didn’t even exist here, what with every creature having its own different amount of fingers. If it even had fingers to begin with.
The worry being irrational didn’t make Sue feel any less awkward.
While she internally fretted about nothing, the pointy pink one got on her order, starting with the dough. Sue’s increasingly strained sanity baptized them with a very serious and not-at-all potentially demeaning nickname of ‘Pixie’. The wooden rolling pin in their paws was a strangely familiar, but not at all unwelcome sight. It provided a connection to home, even if a tenuous and shallow one. What was less familiar was the way Pixie used it. After a few moments of using it normally, they let go of it with one hand, and then… began wagging a finger, tracing out a small circle at nothing in particular.
Things began to happen before Sue could even get dumbfounded enough to form a coherent question.
One after another, several fruits leaped out of the baskets in the back and onto the counter beside the fairy. Once they’d landed, the cook switched from finger wagging to a stone knife, slicing the berries while continuing to roll the dough with their other hand. Despite their clumsy appearance, they sure had more coordination than her college’s entire miserable basketball team combined.
Observing the fairy cook at work turned out to be much more interesting than expected. Each time they wagged their finger, things just… happened. A fire lit in their oven, the berry slices leaped onto the grate above the flames, more berries flung themselves from the back. There was no consistency in Pixie’s magic, and yet, they looked entirely in control.
A squeak from behind her alerted her to Doc trying to catch her attention. They pointed towards a nearby picnic table before heading there themselves. Right as she was about to follow them, Sue spared one more glance at the kitchen—and froze in fear.
Massive, glowing red eyes, almost like brake lights, were emerging from the shadows on the kitchen’s back wall. A wide grin soon formed underneath them, attached to a pitch-black body.
Whatever that demon was, its gaze was set on Pixie. It drew closer and closer to them without making a single noise, Sue too terrified to even whimper. It kept glancing towards her, as if to ensure she’d be too afraid to act. A part of her told her to run. Run like a madmartian, run as far as she could with her injury—but she couldn’t. The impulse that had led her to protect Ember from that giant spider wouldn’t let her, forcing her to save Pixie.
Except, there were no rocks to throw this time, and an insurmountable obstacle separated her from the approaching demon, leaving her with very few options. As the shadow creature neared closer and closer to Pixie, she finally pushed through the cold paralysis and did the only thing she could think of—point and shout.
“W-WATCH OUT!”
Her call caught Pixie’s attention despite not being understood. All it did, though, was confuse them as they glanced at Sue—at least until they spotted the pointing finger and… audibly groaned. They then did what nobody on the scene should’ve expected—
Namely, turned around on their heel and planted a smooch right on the demon’s cheek.
The kiss stunned the newcomer and Sue alike, the former erupting into a blush. Their utterings sounded simultaneously croaky and whispered, not helping with Sue’s confusion any. The ghost’s embarrassment might’ve made Pixie giggle in their twinkly voice, but seeing Sue’s slack-jawed shock made them break into bellowing laughter.
The spooky one soon followed, rambling on as they laughed, a well-lit spot letting Sue finally make out their shape. They were very similar to Pixie—almost the same size and with an absence of wings being their only noticeable anatomical difference. If not for their introduction and looking more like a ghost than an actual living creature, she might have even considered them being related.
It took a while for Sue to calm down as she stared at the laughing duo, slowly processing the situation. The not-ghost had snuck up on Pixie, as if they were about to attack them. How the cook had reacted to her alert, this seemed to be a regular occurrence between them. They were obviously unafraid of the spook; the kiss suggesting fondness, even. But if that’s the case, then why would—
...
…
Did—did I just get pranked by that shadowy gremlin?
The realization that she was a victim of a practical joke provided some well-needed relief, but Sue was still unamused. She was already easy to scare before all this, and her newfound frailty only made that worse. Especially with everyone here being magical and the exact extent of their capabilities unknown—and Sue really wished it to remain that way.
Though… she must’ve made one hell of a face.
The thought cracked her stunned expression, a small chuckle leaving her as the pair calmed down. Eventually, all the laughter had brought Doc back, making them call out towards the presumed couple. Reassuringly, the medic was just as unamused about Sue being the victim of a prank as she had been. The three argued about it for a while as Sue watched on, sticking out even more than usual with her foot of height over all of them, her posture slouching with each passing moment.
It was all good fun—for someone, at least—until the group smelled smoke.
Pixie dashed back into their kitchen as Sue glanced at the grill, revealing some of the fruit slices to have leaped way past well done and straight into charcoal territory. An appropriate comeuppance if nothing else, the cook’s grumbling bringing mischief to Sue’s heart. It would’ve been even better had it happened to the actual culprit, but she wasn’t gonna argue with Fate.
Thankfully, Doc was more than keen to remedy that, continuing to barrage the shadowy—you know what, if they’re so eager to spook people, then ‘Spook’ is what they’re gonna be. Either way, Doc was barraging Spook and breaking through their excuses, until they finally caved, rolling their eyes as they approached Sue. Their voice was unamused, but she didn’t care, not with them having brought it on themselves. Their half-creaked, half-whispered words didn’t ring even the most remote bell in Sue’s mind, but her sixth sense let her feel a bit of genuine apology in them.
They weren’t all excuses, even if said rather begrudgingly.
Nobody was ultimately hurt, and if not for her being new to this world, she would’ve probably found it much more amusing, so... apology accepted, expressed with a weary smile and a nod.
Spook pondered for a moment before stumbling on another mischievous idea, looking about ready to do… something involving her outstretched hand. Thankfully, Doc brought them back in line with a single pointed squeak, the specter’s excitement evaporating with a groan. Despite their ghostly appearance, their handshake felt normal, being cold to the touch aside.
With that forced introduction over, Doc patted her side and gestured towards the table once more. And, with no more terrifying pranks to distract her, Sue gladly followed. Once she’d sat and let go of the crutch, she took a moment to massage her wrist and arm, not expecting them to have gotten so sore just by walking.
Guess that constitutes a workout, even if it’s the one-armed kind usually reserved for the guys.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
She giggled loudly at the thought while internally regretting there was nobody around—potentially even nobody else in this entire world—that would get her joke. That… was a bit of a downer.
Before she could hit another checkpoint on the emotional rollercoaster ride, Spook spoke up behind her. They were just standing there in the open, looking sillier than Sue had expected. Their dark, unnaturally matte coloration stood out like a sore thumb—and levitating an inch off the ground didn’t help, either.
A loud bark of the most familiar variety caught her attention before she could think through that sight. She looked over just in time to see Ember dashing towards her. The fox immediately lifted her mood, especially as they reached their goal by leaping onto her lap with one clean jump, making her chuckle at their enthusiasm. “H-hehe, good mhorning Embher!”
The fiery pup responded in the only correct way—by climbing on the table and smothering her face in very warm, very happy licks. Sue was too enamored to stop them, and even Doc’s words took a while to convince Ember to ease out. They then woofed something behind themselves, making Sue glance over as well.
*squeak!*
I’m glad to see you too, Bowlcut.
They and Leafy had almost caught up to the rest of the group by the time Ember had pointed them out. Bowlcut half waddled, half ran up to the bench before stopping and reaching up towards her, making Sue and Leafy alike giggle at the sight. The littlest one immediately tried to snuggle into her once she’d set them on her lap, melting her heart.
Enough so to make her forget about the threat that came from their family, at least for a moment.
It was weird just how affectionate they were towards her. With how different every living creature here was from each other, the lil’ one may have just been happy to see one of their own kin. Sue wasn’t convinced by that explanation, but ultimately, there was no point in trying to rationalize their joy away, not with how cute and soothingly warm it was. She could let herself enjoy it, just for today.
And enjoy it, she did. One hand stroked Ember as the other held Bowlcut close. The Martian tyke could not decide whether they wanted more pets, to be picked up, or to be hugged. Sue catered to all those needs by alternating between them every once in a while, much to their audible enjoyment, while the rest of the table chatted amongst themselves. Doc, Spook, and now Leafy had taken up the opposite bench, the latter occasionally gesturing to make the tyke laugh.
To Sue’s relief, their discussion only sometimes revolved around her.
Considering the circumstances of her appearance and her disability, she’d obviously be talked about a lot. Despite everyone’s good intentions, not understanding anything they were saying still left her uneasy, though. Or, at least, mostly everyone’s good intentions—she still had no idea what Spook’s deal was. To her relief, everyone was so used to them as to see any pranks from a mile away and deny them the satisfaction. They whined and rolled their eyes each time, but it never took long for them to go back to mischief afterwards—or, once Pixie had made their way back, to elation.
With the cook around, Spook’s grin felt much less unnatural, despite being just as massive as before. Their joy was shared by the rest of the table, if for different reasons. The cook had brought a whole trayful of goods with them, sitting down beside Ember while handing out the meals to everyone gathered.
Sue and Doc got a piece of warm, fruity-smelling pastry each, while Leafy and Bowlcut received small bowls of roasted veggies. Ember, meanwhile, got a seared, richly spiced piece of fruit, the scent tingling Sue’s nose. The meals were accompanied by mugs of pleasantly chilled water. She briefly wondered how that was accomplished with no technology from even the same century as a fridge, before shrugging that thought aside.
With the meals finally handed out, Pixie could get comfy, petting the lil’ fox as they grabbed their breakfast. It reminded Sue of toast—two flat layers of light dough with copious amounts of jam between them. The cook’s grace continued to be immaculate, not a speck smearing on their cheeks as they ate.
Curiously, they hadn’t brought anything for Spook. The prankster didn’t seem to mind, preoccupied with chatting while staring at Pixie with infatuation in their eyes.
Some mixed messages being sent here.
Pixie’s arrival marked a welcome change in the topics being discussed, in that Sue as a subject was dropped completely. She appreciated the change, finally able to peace out and simply enjoy her meal without her extrasensory perception warning her about others paying attention to her. Bowlcut’s squirming made that trickier, especially with Leafy occasionally coming over to wipe the mess off the baby’s cheeks, but it was still by far the calmest she’s felt since she’d first woken up here.
Eventually, even that was helped. One of Pixie’s comments had the tyke squeak happily and scramble towards the cook, setting upon hugging the fairy’s side. The sight of Bowlcut’s limitless affection extending to those outside their kin warmed her heart—especially with Ember using the opportunity to climb back onto her lap.
As she pet the lil’ fox on autopilot, Sue allowed herself to space out. The surrounding calmness helped, letting her mind soon drift off into something resembling meditation. She felt her anxieties fade away, becoming meaningless by the moment.
Everything would be fine.
She would find her way back home.
Meeting the royals tomorrow would go well.
And maybe, just maybe, she would learn the incoherent mishmash that constituted the local language someday.
She might not have consciously believed those thoughts, but they were a pleasant distraction from the uneasy confusion she’d felt until now—a distraction that was eventually interrupted by a snout touching her leg. Her zen state kept Sue from getting startled in response, but the cold, damp touch still got a small jump out of her, one which the lil’ fox had noticed, looking under the table with her.
This critter’s coloration was almost as fiery as Ember’s. Instead of a mixture of yellow and red, their coat was bright orange with black stripes along their back and hindquarters. Their shape was closer to a dog than a fox, the lion-like mane aside. They were by far the most animalistic out of any creature she’d seen in the village so far—if not for their stripes and mane, Sue might have even confused them for an actual puppy.
If literally every other creature here was any sign, that puppy had a similar level of intelligence to her and was trying to catch her attention. They didn’t look or feel hostile, and she couldn’t sense anything negative coming from them, so she doubted it was anything bad—
…
On that point, I can’t sense anything else coming from them, either…
The realization made Sue squint at the newcomer as Ember hopped off her lap and sniffed them, before getting taken aback and turning very affectionate towards them. The two immediately got to nuzzling one another as Sue stared blankly.
For the second time today, her dumbfounded expression was a cause for someone else’s amusement.
This time, however, it was kept much more covert. As the newcomer tried to stay quiet, their head... transformed into something else. Sue reeled back at the sight—at least until she recognized this particular head. Dark gray with red accents and blue eyes, vulpine ears, and a black mane underneath—
It’s the little shit that stole my peaches.
And, by extension, the little shit she ended up saving later that day. Even being unable to detect them with her sixth sense checked out, reminding her of that uncomfortable fact. She sure didn’t remember them doing anything like this shapeshifting from the brief time she’d seen them, though.
Her uncertainty was soon noticed, and swiftly acted upon. Between her blinks, the orange dog had turned entirely into that gray and red fox, smirking up at her for just a moment before reverting to their disguise—which raised the question of why they were hiding like that to begin with.
Sue could ponder on that mystery later—right now, she was preoccupied by the pair of foxes affectionately nuzzling her leg. She couldn’t help but smile, reaching as inconspicuously as possible to stroke the gray one’s head. The sensation that accompanied the softness of their fur was... weird. Slightly like Bowlcut and Doc weird, but altogether different. Not uncomfortable, though, not in the slightest.
As one imposter pet the other, she realized that while the gray fox might have been able to disguise their appearance, that didn’t extend to physical presence, as evidenced by her hands feeling their ears while seemingly touching air. Sadly, their fun didn’t last long. Soon enough, Bowlcut had noticed the newcomer, startling them and prompting them to leave. They took their time, strutting out from underneath the table while Ember escorted them out and woofed them away.
Suppose that was ultimately much more inconspicuous than dashing away in panic.
It also resulted in Bowlcut reclaiming their proper spot on her lap. Sue giggled at the switcheroo as she kept thinking about that gray fox and their mysteries, starting with them being hidden to her extra sense. She concentrated on her mental radar as she looked around the clearing, trying to match each little tug to a specific creature. She had to give up halfway through thanks to a mounting migraine, but she hadn’t spotted anyone else that her sixth sense didn’t sense clearly. She wondered whether any creatures like that lived here at all, and if not, why?
It was really weird for that gray fox to be forced to hide because of something as unimportant as her ability to sense them, especially with how integrated this place looked. There were hundreds upon hundreds of species in here—hell, they and Ember were way more similar to each other than either was to any other creature around. Why did one have to hide and not the other?
What a mess.
As Sue mulled through it all, her mind drifted toward names once more. She tried to come up with something for the dark fox, but only drew blanks each time. Nothing, not even something on the same level of abject stupidity as ‘Bowlcut’—not that her concern for their situation would have let her keep anything this dumb, anyway.
Sudden motion around her finally pulled her out of her own head. Pixie used their finger-wagging magic to bring all the long-emptied dishes onto the tray before carrying it away. Spook followed them out in the most direct way possible—straight through the table as if it didn’t exist whatsoever.
The total lack of reaction from those gathered let Sue know that, like Ember literally breathing fire, this was apparently normal. Who knows, maybe Spook was an actual ghost and these just… existed here. Sure wouldn’t be out of place next to dragons, fairies, shapeshifting foxes, and giant enemy spiders.
With the cook and their... sidekick taking their leave, there wasn’t much left to chat about. The remaining topics were quickly wrapped up, and peaceful silence settled in shortly after. Sue didn’t mind one bit; it was nice to chill like that.
Especially with doom looming on the horizon.
Sue shuddered at reminding herself of that before glancing around the plaza in search of another route into the surrounding woods. Nothing, just the wide main road and a small pathway off to the side. Maybe she should try sneaking out on the other side of the village? Nah, probably too predictable. Though… if she’d gotten away before running into that royal, they wouldn’t have much reason to chase after her. They’d still maybe try out of concern, but would soon give up and write it off as a weirdo going back to doing weird things after having gotten better for a couple days.
She’d just be another in what was no doubt a long list of weird events that had happened in this place. Or one of the very few weird events. Who knows, maybe the threshold for what constituted ‘weird’ here was really high—high enough for her arrival and departure to not even count.
I really, really wish I could ask.
The sensation of a leaf brushing against her arm clued her in to Leafy picking Bowlcut up, followed by a tilt of their head towards the rest of the village. Utter anatomical weirdness aside, she had to admit the bushbug nanny was quite cute. Cuter than any insect or plant had any right to be, at least. With the baby removed from her lap, Sue fiddled with the crutch until she’d found some well-needed stability, soon catching up to the rest of the group.
Ember did their best to sneak in some nuzzles as Sue hobbled along. It may have made staggering forward just that bit harder, but it was still welcome on the principle of Ember being very cute. She already wanted to pet them all day because their affection was the only thing in this wild world that she could entirely and utterly understand, and their every action only contributed further towards that desire.
Curiously, they weren’t heading to Doc’s hut this time. Sue didn’t mind; she’d had more than enough time to let her arm recover—she just had no idea where else they could be taking her.
The breakfast relaxation helped keep her grounded as her group made their way through the village’s streets and paths. All the species surrounding them were much easier to process now that she was sated, fully awake, and at least temporarily at peace. Sue was surprised to realize just how many birds there were here. They perched all around, be it on the roofs of the buildings or an occasional pole. She wasn’t sure what the latter was for—until she made out a lantern-like cage near the top.
As neat as the realization they had street lights in here was, she had no idea what they could have been using as a light source. Candles were much too weak, so maybe torches like in some video games she’d played? It wouldn’t be too outlandish, but she couldn’t see how a torch large enough to light up its surroundings would fit in there.
Guess she could try to sneak out at night to see for herself? She really wanted to, but knowing what awaited her tomorrow dissuaded her from it—she’d need all the sleep she could get. Ultimately, the entire conundrum was relegated to the back of her head, adding to the confusion pile. By now, it was a bona fide confusion fort.
To her disappointment, the group moved briskly past the ongoing construction effort, not letting her take much of it in.
A gray, rock-like bipedal rhino felled trees in the back and carried them to the worksite proper. Then, each log was cut to shape and prepared for assembly by something halfway between an insect, a robot, and a can of fiercely red paint. And finally, the building itself was being assembled by a creature so close to a human that Sue had to do a double take at seeing them—only to get disillusioned upon seeing them rocking four extremely muscular arms and not two.
Guess that explains where all the really huge creatures have been hiding all along.
To offset Sue feeling even frailer than before, at least the little brown... pangolin working on the foundation was much shorter than her. And quite cute at that, even with all the spikes on their back.
While they marched to their next destination, several villagers stopped Doc to exchange a few words each, Sue’s arm not appreciating the resulting pauses. One creature caught her attention in particular, their dark blue chitin standing out among the sea of fur and feathers. They looked like a beetle and towered over the medic—they were even taller than her if their curved horn was included.
Despite their size, they were quite reserved, only exchanging a couple words with Doc and leaving after receiving words of reassurance. If not for their lightning fast bow towards her, Sue would’ve thought they hadn’t even noticed her.
Fortunately for her arm, their actual destination was right up ahead.
This clearing was much smaller than the other one, almost empty aside from the group of various small creatures resting in front of a blue bird that—somehow—sat inside a tiny, localized cloud. Or plumage that very much looked like a cloud. Either or. What was much easier to figure out than the bird’s anatomy was that all the little creatures were an assortment of children, ones very excited at Leafy’s arrival to boot.
Each of them said something to the bushbug as they noticed them, presumably a greeting. And with none of them being in sync and their voices sounding like anything from rumbling gravel to outright whistling, the result was an utter cacophony that made all the adults on the scene wince, Doc especially.
Guess those big ears aren’t just for show, heh.
Thankfully, few kids were interested in her. A little green quadruped with a… leaf sticking from the top of its head and a part blue, part black bipedal dog with four ears walked over to investigate her, but that was about it. The latter even woofed something out toward her, but Doc’s calm squeaks were enough to make them nod and scramble back to their group. A group that Bowlcut and Leafy had joined in the meantime, the bushbug sitting down beside the living cloud. The whole gathering felt even happier than before, and the bird eventually resumed their singsong lecture.
Was this a daycare of some sort? It kinda looked like one. But if that was the case, then what about Ember?
A downward glance revealed the little fox to have stayed glued to her side, not even considering joining the group of assorted kids. Nobody around was pressuring them to, either. Guess they either were too old, despite fitting on her lap, or were granted permission to chill with their savior in their parent’s absence. Sue really wished she could crouch and give them a few pets right about now.
With Leafy and Bowlcut delivered to their destination, Doc quietly caught her attention and took off. She blinked at seeing them not turning right around, but quickly caught up afterward—seems they weren’t quite done yet. Fortunately for her crutch arm, their next stop wasn’t far away. It grabbed much more of Sue’s attention than a mutant animal daycare, though not because of any reasons the rest of the group knew about.
The central wall of carvings narrowed towards the top, flanked by a pair of smaller tablets, angled to face the raised altar at the shrine’s center. A large bowl sat on top of the altar, filled with massive, bright feathers—the same kind as the one Doc gave her last night. It was surrounded by diligently kept flowers, their colorfulness contrasting with the imposing nature of the engraving looming over them.
An engraving of Duck.
It was much more intricate than the by now hazy recollection of her dream, letting her spot some additional details. The pair of small paws on its front, to which the wing-like crescents connected. The crescent-Moon-like shape of what Sue initially thought to be tusks on either side of its head. And, last but not least, the multi-colored appearance of its arc-like wings, masterfully expressed despite the limitations of stonework.
A full moon loomed above it, slightly different from what she’d remembered from Earth.
Each of the walls facing the monument depicted its own scene, coming together to present Duck as a guardian deity of sorts. To the left, it was shielding a small creature from a writhing, black mass. To the right, it was driving that same black mass away. And finally, in the center, it was healing a visibly injured creature; crescent wings raised high as they wielded moonlight. Aside from the black mass on either side tablet, none of the engravings used any paint, making it stand out even further among the light-colored stone.
Guess Duck is kind of a big deal.
And probably isn’t called ‘Duck’, either.
If not for Doc’s kind nature, Sue would’ve gotten laughed at because of her expression for the third time today. To her appreciation, they kept themselves to a single amused comment at seeing her stare at the shrine slack jawed, before approaching it themselves. They stopped next to another creature, and as they got into their prayer, Sue focused on their fellow… worshipper.
Their body shape made her think of a badger standing on their hind legs. Their back was covered with velvety, dark purple fur, while the little she could make out of their front was cream-colored. She didn’t have the time to focus on a ring of glowing purple spots around their neck before they turned towards Doc and spoke up with growls and soft whines. Once the medic was done with their prayer, they joined in on the chat; Sue left unnerved at the feeling of attention being placed on her again.
Ember kept close to her, clearly worried. They felt... afraid of the monument, maybe even of Duck itself. Considering Sue’s experience with the deity forcing itself into her dreams, she sure couldn’t blame them. Before she could reassure the little fox, though, a quiet, slow growl caught her attention.
Her gaze shot up to find the purple and cream badger mid-bow right before her. The elegance of the gesture left Sue unsure what to do before she feebly tried to replicate it, the result closer to a large nod than anything.
The resulting bow-off lasted for several long, awkward moments until Doc finally intervened, their brief comment clearly taking the badger aback. Even with that eye-opening revelation, they continued to hold their pose, determined to do… something. She decided to speak up to drive the point home, “Hello, I-I can’t understhand you.”
Sue could swear she saw their eyes twitch as they looked up at her.
Despite that, they resumed their graceful appearance shortly afterwards, straightening out before leaving with a brief comment. Wait, was that… contempt in their thoughts? Doc’s gentle shaking of her hand took her out of that unpleasant train of thought, a paw pointing further into the village wordlessly conveying their intent.
Finally, back at the clinic.
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The rest of the day passed rather quickly, for better or worse.
Sue took her time recovering, both from the injury that got her here and the exertion on her not-at-all athletic arm. Ember kept her company while they mostly just chilled. After lunch—the meal delivered this time—she’d charaded asking Doc to bring her some paper, the request eagerly fulfilled. She could tell they were disappointed when she used it to draw Ember instead of attempting to communicate, but they didn’t let it get to their expression.
The lil’ fox sure enjoyed it, at least.
A few hours later, she mimed out wanting to take another walk to get a better view of the construction site. The number of differences between that gray four-armed creature and actual humans made her feel dumb at having had to do a double take in the first place. It also clarified that they, as well as every other monster working on the new building, were strong enough to snap her in half, carrying entire logs and Doc-sized slabs of rock in one arm each.
The evening was less gruesome to think about.
Leafy and Bowlcut had paid them another, shorter visit. The tyke and Sue were once more overjoyed at seeing each other. She appreciated their presence, trying to stave off the sense of impending doom as the sun sank below the horizon.
Tomorrow was approaching fast, way too fast.
As much as Bowlcut had tried to cheer her up, none of it really worked. It left them just kinda sad as Leafy walked them back home after twilight, together with Ember this time. Soon after, Sue was left alone at last, with only mounting dread and that glowing feather to keep her company. The mental image of Doc stealing it from that very sacred shrine made her chuckle, but it was the only relief she got that evening.
The feather’s glow guided her to sleep eventually, but it took much, much longer than she would’ve preferred—enough for the moon to be already high in the sky by the time she finally dozed off.
For all Sue knew, it was the last night of rest she would ever have.
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The next thing she knew, she was falling.
Air whizzed past her body at deafening speeds, eyes feebly trying and failing to make sense of the vision. She couldn’t do anything but watch as she flew through the cosmic void, surrounded by stars in every direction but down, all reduced to uncountable blurry lines.
All but one.
A single speck of golden light danced around her as she rocketed through the darkness, spiraling so close she felt like she could reach out and grab it. And she tried, many times, mind issuing the command to her body again and again, only for it to refuse each time, as if she was but a mere passenger.
Suddenly, a voice. Squeaky, grating, neither male nor female. It chided her for things unknown, things unknowable; goaded her towards her Fate with its every word.
And then; it flung her forth.
An instant later, she was somewhere else altogether, bathed in bright blue and green. The golden twinkle was gone, absent with no reason or explanation. In its stead, so many others, creeping up on her, unknown and hostile. White and green and black and yellow, without shape, without comprehension.
Another blink, a spider’s maw about to devour her whole.
A silver comet crashed into her, shattering her body. It spoke with an angelic choir, its words beyond comprehension as they guided her towards her Destiny. Its impact sent her tumbling off course, down, down, down.
Down towards a clearing.
Down towards a campfire.
Down towards a pair of scarlet eyes, staring back at her.
Down towards these familiar guitar twangs.
Here comes the ground.