At any given time, a person’s brain is actively filtering out countless sensory inputs, not only allowing them to focus on important things but also enabling them to function.

By selecting the sense of the fox, Harlan Landry suddenly increased his sense of smell, sight, and hearing by 50 times. He also gained the ability to see the earth's magnetic field. The massive increase in sensory input was crippling. The flood of new sounds, smells, and sights crashed into Harlan's brain like an avalanche hitting a pumpkin patch, causing him to immediately lose consciousness.

He was uncertain how long he was out, but all he knew was that he was awoken by a horrific, sour, vinegar-like smell. He also became aware of a tremendous headache, which the smell only made worse. Adding to his discomfort was a cacophony of sounds—clicking, scraping, buzzing, and the crashing of water. He strained to open his eyes, but they fought to stay closed as if he were staring into the sun.

“What…what the hell happened?” said Harlan, louder than he expected.

“Grgggrgrrrgg.”

“Uhgg, damn, why are you yelling? A bit softer, please.”

“Gggrrgrgggrg,” whispered the Mothman.

“Cast heat pack healing? I don’t even think I can get up.”

“Grgrg grgggrgrg grg.”

“No, you’re not going to bloomin' carry me,” rasped Harlan before rolling to his knees and crawling over toward the fire. Unsure of what exactly to do, he reached out his hand and activated the spell “Heat Pack Healing.”

The heat drained from the fire, and Harlan could feel it traveling up his arm and into his head with a sensation reminiscent of the burn from strong bourbon going down. The headache was so severe that the spell continued to drain heat until the fire was extinguished, leaving not even smoldering embers behind.

For Harlan, this was a miraculous experience. It was as if he had just instantly recovered from the worst hangover of his life. The instant relief was made all the better by the contrast to the severe pain he was experiencing a moment ago.

“I…I feel incredible,” said Harlan to no one in particular as he leapt to his feet. He took a deep breath, feeling a renewed vigor, before gagging from the horrid sour smell that had woken him.

“What in tarnation is that smell?”

“Grg.”

“It’s me?” replied Harlan, looking down. He stuck his nose closer to his armpit and took a whiff before dry heaving. “Oh smokes! It's me. How did I not notice it? I gotta go try to wash up a bit. You okay here with Cindy if I head down to the river real quick?”

“Grgrgrgrg.”

Harlan grabbed a small bar of soap from his saddle pack and made his way down to the river, while keeping an eye out for some soap-weed to wash his hair and beard with.

Although the river wasn't far from the dead end where they were camping, he found himself becoming disoriented as he walked due to the appearance of shadowy rings in his vision. He tried blinking and rubbing his eyes, but the darkness wouldn't go away. As he turned his head, it became apparent that he could only see the darkness when looking in one direction, but no matter how far he moved, the rings always stayed the same distance from him.

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As he stood there trying to figure out what he was looking at, it struck him that the sun was on his left-hand side, and given that it was still morning, that would mean the sun was in the east, making the dark rings due north. Although he wasn't a man of science, if he were to hazard a guess, he might say he was seeing the earth's magnetic field. And given that the rings always appeared the same distance from him, not only could he tell direction, but he could also gauge distance. Harlan felt pretty proud of himself for figuring that out, even if he wasn't sure what use it was.

The rest of the walk down to the river was spent figuring out the distance of each of the rings he could see by lining one up with an object and then counting out the steps to how far it was. He was so caught up in his measurements that he almost completely missed some soap-weed on the path.

By the time he got to the river, he was feeling pretty good. His headache was gone, he had a built-in compass and rangefinder, and the smell of the wildflowers was slightly masking the stench of his body odor. The sound of the burbling river even drowned out the racket he now realized was insects. Hell, he thought, this was almost a vacation if you ignored the whole “bonding with a mythical beast” thing.

Walking down the bank of the river for a bit, Harlan found an outcropping of rock and sand that extended into the river, creating a pocket of slow-flowing water. After stripping down, he eased himself into the water, taking a second to adjust to the cold before dunking his head under.

Bursting back above the surface, he let out a few curses from the cold before grabbing his soap and soap-weed and getting stuck into cleaning himself. He scrubbed and lathered up his hair and body multiple times to try to wash away the built-up grime, oil, and dirt.

When he had scrubbed himself red, he moved on to his clothes, dunking them in the river, then lathering and scrubbing them multiple times. Despite his best efforts, some sweat stains were just too stubborn. Previously, this wouldn't have bothered him because everyone in town tended to smell like an offal pit on occasion. However, the persistence of the stain and its associated smells made him think that his new abilities were going to make the people of Blackwater even less pleasant to be around. “Hmm, might need to see about donating some soap to the worst of them,” he grumbled.

Satisfied that he was as clean as he could get given his resources, he climbed out of the river and put his clothes on a boulder to dry in the sun, before sitting down on a rock to dry himself. As he sat there, he found himself engulfed in the sounds and smells of the river. Although the new level of sensory input was initially overwhelming, he found that as he sat there, everything began to come together like an orchestral piece. The rushing of the river provided a rhythm while the toads gave a bass line, and the birds hit the high notes. The musty, earthy smells of the river mingled with the floral and herby notes of the plant life, and Harlan was experiencing each of these at a greater intensity than he ever thought possible. But rather than overwhelm, he found himself easing into his surroundings, like he was actually part of the wilderness for the first time.

By the time he had another conscious thought, he and his clothes were dry, and the sun had passed the midpoint in the sky. He quickly put on his clothes and headed back to the camp, taking in all the sights, sounds, and smells that he had never noticed before. By the time he got back to the dead end, Iggy had returned, showing no signs of the massacre he had committed earlier in the day on the local beasts.

“So is this how you experience the world all the time?” asked Harlan of the fox. “Because this is incredible—it feels like I had cotton wool in my ears and nose my whole life and I’ve just had it removed.”

Iggy just gave him a confused look, as he had no point of reference for how bad human senses typically were.

“Anyway, I think we should give the little lass a couple more days to get her strength back before we move her properly. Until then, I think we can get a start on finding your mate. Can you tell me what happened?”