Sensation returns slowly. There's a sense that my body protests awakening once again. Did I drink too much yesterday? I can't remember, which is normally a bad sign, but this doesn't feel like a hangover. I slowly open my eyes to the light pouring through my eyelids, and frown. This isn't my bedroom. Memories come back in fits and starts.

Right. I was transported to another world, with nothing but the skin on my back, arriving in the middle of a massive forest, and was trying to find food, water and civilization when I was attacked by a large animal, which wounded me and the wound got infected, which compounded with the lack of food and water, landed me here.

I guess I should be happy I'm still alive? It's hard to bring up enthusiasm for that fact. I'd have vastly preferred it if it were all a dream.

That said, I do feel marginally better. Though based on how I was feeling before, that may not be saying much. According to the sun, I've slept the whole night and a good chunk of the day. Looks like it's early afternoon now. Maybe the sleep has served me well, or maybe the rabbit has done me some good. I'm mildly surprised at the realization that I really haven't thrown all of that up, even after falling asleep.

I slowly try to lift myself up and find myself still unsteady, though not as much as yesterday. My leg is still steadily throbbing, but it can carry my weight, and it doesn't seem to be bleeding. Which I suppose I should have expected, because if it were I’d likely be dead.

I guess this is supposed to feel like a fresh start, right? I let out a tired sigh. It feels more like a burden. Sure, I was all fired up yesterday, but that version of me doesn’t have to drag through another day of just putting one foot in front of the other.

Still, there's not much I can change. I have to push on, so that's exactly what I'll do.

The road and the forest around it somehow look different today. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something has changed. The forest that I used to see as a beautiful and serene place for hiking has lost its luster. I'm not hiking, and the beauty does me no good, so just like when people talk about their grand plans that will never actually pan out, I tune it out. It's as if a switch in my head has been flipped, and the way I used to see the forest is gone. I just don’t have that luxury anymore.

I step more purposefully now. Even if I’m just as lost, just as hurt, just as bloody and naked as I was yesterday. I feel less like a wandering soul with no direction and more like someone who’s in control of her own destiny.

It's nothing but a difference in perception, but it gives me the feeling I might actually succeed. Something I sorely need right now.

It feels like my feet are nicer to me too, not feeling quite as tired as the days before. I’ve been walking a lot, so maybe I’m finally starting to develop some calluses? I mean, boots would be welcome, but they’re nowhere in sight yet, so I’ll take what I can get.

I make more progress than I did yesterday. In half the time, I cover nearly twice the distance, confirming to me that my body really has recovered much more than I thought possible. Even so, I keep better track of my energy levels, and take breaks whenever I feel the need to. As I found out, rushing will only hurt me in the end.

There's a niggling voice in the back of my mind that tells me this second wind cannot last, but I see no reason to listen to it. After all, what's the point of giving in now, even if it's right?

After traveling close to half a day, there is a change in the forest, and I come to a fork in the road. The road that I was following seems to combine with a different small road, and combine into a larger one. I'm coming from one of the forks. It doesn't take a genius to figure out which way to go, and I resolutely turn onto the larger road. I'm not interested in going further back into the forest.

image [https://pub-43e7e0f137a34d1ca1ce3be7325ba046.r2.dev/Group.png]

It isn't two hours later that that suspicion is proven correct. I nearly sob with relief as I hear something I've not heard in what seems to be an eternity. Human voices! Or rather, I correct myself, voices. At this point they could be elves, orcs, or anything humanoid and I'd be just as happy to see them. Just hearing the voices releases a tension that I didn't realize I'd been holding, no matter what I told myself.

I nearly stumble towards them, but reprimand myself. Even if I want them to be friendly, there is no guarantee they are. I cautiously proceed into the direction of the voices, which are coming from somewhere further down the road. The forest is thinning out, and finally I see some structures through the trees. They're situated in a half circle 200 meters in diameter on the edge of the forest. The road leads through a small village set in the middle of that clearing into the hills visible beyond. On either side of the clearing that contains the buildings is a large expanse of freshly cut tree stumps.

As I slowly approach, I step off the road and hide myself between the trees. I may want to meet other people, but not without getting some more information about their disposition first. For all I know they'll attack me on sight.

The buildings are made out of rough logs, cut and sawed only where necessary to fit with the others that are piled on top of each other. The angled roofs made out of layered wooden planks. I'm by no means an expert, but this doesn't strike me as a place meant to last forever. At the very least it seems recently created, where recent is somewhere between now and ten years ago. The buildings do not have any of the weathering that I associate with very old wooden buildings.

I slow to a stop at the edge of the clearing, and contemplate what that means. The way these houses are built doesn't look like something I'd see in my own world, at least not unless someone deliberately built a whole village of rustic log houses without modern amenities.

I slowly peek my head out of the tree line and into the clearing that holds the village, moments stretch and contract like the final beats of a heart as I finally behold what I've been looking for for one hellish week. Civilization. And not a tree between me and it! I silently pump my fist.

The talking comes from three men about thirty meters into the circle of the clearing. No elves. I can't stop myself from feeling some disappointment. They're just humans like me, with odd clothes stained by the earth and hard labor. It becomes clear to me why the village is located in such a large clearing, as the men are in the process of felling a nearby tree. The surrounding stumps, and the large pile of logs lying nearer to the village, are a decent indication of the main occupation of this settlement.

Stolen novel; please report.

I guess they didn't notice me because they are focused on their work. I take this chance to observe what they are doing. I try to understand what they are saying. They're not speaking any language I can put a name to. I'm still trying to make out the words when one of their numbers' eyes widen, and the man exclaims something and points in my direction, at which all three immediately turn around, axes raised.

They pause, their work forgotten, axes and saws slack in their grip as they stare incredulously at the face peeking out of the leaves, and I suddenly realize what state of dress I’m in. How much is visible? A muddle of emotions plays across their faces—surprise, confusion, fear, disgust. I may not exactly paint the prettiest picture right now.

"Hey", I say. And try to raise my hand in greeting, but they flinch back at the gesture.

They recover quickly, and their initial shock morphs into a collective defensive stance, one of them utters with what I can only imagine is a curse, though its meaning is lost on me. Then two of the bulky men start towards me raising their axes warily. The third runs back in the direction of the rest of the houses shouting something I do not understand either.

I quickly raise my hands where they can see them, showing them I'm not armed. Should I step out entirely? Somehow that doesn’t feel like it’d make things better. I curse myself, then my luck. I should have expected this, but I did not even consider it.

The men are running their mouths to one another, but I have no idea what they are saying. When have I ever read a story in which the protagonist didn't magically understand the native language. Since I didn't get jack shit when I arrived here, why would I expect to be able to understand anyone?

I wonder how I can clarify my situation to these men before the situation spirals out of control. They're undoubtedly wondering why a woman coated in blood and dirt suddenly shows up out of the wilderness. I can't help but be slightly focused on the axes the men still warily raise in my direction. Even with the way I look, I’d have expected a slightly different reaction to a naked woman.

The spell is broken when one of the men picks up a large stone. I'm momentarily confused as to why he would do that, but then he shouts something ugly, and hurls it in my direction. My eyes widen, and track the the stone as it sails towards me. It doesn't occur to me to dodge and I feel the wind as it narrowly whizzes past my left ear. His companion angrily shouts something, at him, or at me, I'm not sure. The anger is unmistakable though, so I involuntarily back away into the tree line from which I just partially emerged.

I was expecting to find civilization here, of whatever kind. I didn't necessarily expect people to be friendly, but I didn't expect them to be actively hostile. I must look terrible, but I'm still clearly human, in distress. I can't imagine why they'd respond by chasing me away.

From the direction where the third guy vanished, a loud blast from a horn echoes through the air, and a bunch of other people comes charging toward me, axes waving and some of them brandishing what look like longbows. They’re all shouting what I guess are threats. I can’t make out the words, but it’s definitely not anything friendly.

In hindsight, I do remember a story like this. Some shapeshifting monsters would transform into children and try to infiltrate towns, which has the protagonist Eight suffer from nearly the same treatment I'm receiving now. It did feel a bit contrived then, to push him back into the wilderness, but I guess it wasn't so far fetched.

I take in the whole scene, my heart beating in my throat, the men running towards me, their axes ready, and the archers stringing their bows, before with a desperate, ragged sob, I turn and flee. The betrayal of my hope for salvation like a rock in my gut.

Back into the embrace of the forest.

image [https://pub-43e7e0f137a34d1ca1ce3be7325ba046.r2.dev/Group.png]

My legs pump with a mix of adrenaline and panic, my mad dash immediately ripping open the wounds I'd so carefully kept closed today. The sound of my labored breathing and the thud of my heart my only companions other than the shouting from behind. I swerve between the trees, familiar after several days spent between them.

I don't dare look back. I'm not sure if the shouts are closer or not, but I just do not want to see them coming after me, their faces wild with anger and fear. The first look on the men's faces is burned into my mind's eye, and I can't stand the idea of seeing it again.

Before I know it, the sounds of shouting have faded in the distance. I'm not sure what to think of that. They seemed determined to chase, but then gave up almost as soon as they started?

Now that the adrenaline starts to fade away, I can't ignore the exhaustion and pain that are starting to overwhelm me. I sink to the ground panting, as I try to calm down. My leg is on fire again, fresh blood streaming out of the newly reopened wounds.

The rest of my legs have been scratched and torn from all the brush I tore through, and my left foot has clearly stepped on something it shouldn’t, because the sole feels bruised, if not torn. The lack of adrenaline makes a thousand little pains known.

I swivel my head back and forth, scanning the forest, but no matter how I look or strain my ears, I can't hear any sounds of pursuit any more. I stay there just like that for a few minutes, as I recover from my mad dash, and wait for the worst of the pain to abate.

It's strange to feel so safe in the absence of human sounds. The forest has returned to the same tranquility I've experienced over the past few days. The susurration of the breeze through the leaves, the cries of various hidden birds, only disturbed by my own panting.

No matter how I think about it, I can't think of a reason those men went berserk when they saw me. Part of me still wants to believe it's some sort of mistake. Why would anyone immediately come at someone with an axe when they meet them the first time? I'm definitely a mess, but anyone that has survived days in the forest would I'd think. Of course there is the nudity, which would be bizarre, but not...

To some extend that's my fault of course. I could have spent some time trying to find a way to clean up before trying to make contact, but I was so excited to finally find humans it didn’t even occur to me. It'd be hard to do without water though, and I don't know of any place to get it that's not at least two days travel away, if I could even find it.

There might have been other ways? I try to think of ways I might have mitigated the dirt, blood and nakedness, but I'm drawing a blank. It's so frustrating. I'm certain there are ways to make use of everything around me to do such a thing, but I just have no idea. A more skilled person would probably know how to find water in the first place, and wouldn't have to resort to thinking of different methods.

Regardless, it's all out of my hands now. The villagers have seen me, and reacted violently. It doesn't seem like it'll be easy for me to communicate with them to clear up the misunderstanding either.

Why can't anything ever be easy!

It makes me want to slam my fist into a tree in frustration. It makes me want to scream, cry, and wallow in despair. I have an intense need to kick things, but I can't even do that, because my damned leg got hurt by some godforsaken animal, and because everything goes wrong, it got infected! Now I'm chased away by those who were supposed to be my saviors.

If the world isn't actually out to get me, it certainly does a good job of making it look like it.

Inhaling deeply a few times amidst the tranquil forest, I instead release one long, profound sigh of frustration—my own simple acknowledgment that yes, things are hard, unbelievably hard.

But I have to try, right? I can't just give up here. Even if they were shocked into attacking me when they saw me, or they have another reason for attacking someone on sight, resolving those differences is still my best bet. This wouldn't be the first time I work through a pointlessly unfair situation. My job had enough of those.

Maybe I can find a woman this time? One that’s not holding an axe?