Jon was hovering somewhere between thoroughly pissed off and just plain exasperated as she trudged toward the river. One friggin' thing after another this morning, she fumed. Getting caught in the rain last night was a little frustrating, but nothing terrible, and her encounter with the snail-woman was pleasant, if strange. But then she'd woken up to find her clothes and supplies stolen, she'd had no breakfast, and now she was half-caked in mud to boot. Of course, there was also the part about being stuck as the wrong sex and species in another world, but one thing at a time.
The creek, when she reached it, looked to be pretty much unoccupied, at least along this stretch. After a brief test dip with one talon to gauge the depth, she waded cautiously in, thankful that the current wasn't too strong. The water was cold, but it didn't seem to bother her too much; Jon supposed that a species that was supposed to function at high altitudes probably had a reasonable amount of built-in insulation. Maybe that also explained why she wasn't too uncomfortable running around with no clothes on - while the morning air was cool, especially as she'd moved from the mushroom grove into the forest proper, under a leafy canopy that only let the sunlight through in a mottled, toned-down fashion, she didn't actually feel that cold. And for that matter, even though she did notice her breasts bouncing around as she walked, it wasn't half as bad as she got the impression it should've been, given that they were on the larger side and totally unrestrained and unsupported. Perhaps there was also some kind of built-in support or other. I suppose that'd keep them from being too much of a pain in flight, she mused. Jeez, it's like I'm custom-engineered to not need clothes.
Not that she was going to just give it up at that. She was still going to get her clothes back from whatever jerk had made off with them; she had no intention of just running around naked like some kind of wild man (er, woman) if she could help it. But for the moment, at least it wasn't as much of a problem as it could've been.
For now, though, the question was how she was supposed to wash herself without any hands. She started off by dunking herself in the river; this did soften the mud up a little from its dried and crusty state, but it wasn't enough to really work anything out of her hair or feathers. Another couple immersions didn't really accomplish any more than that; while the mild current was nice from a safety standpoint, it didn't really have enough power by itself to do more than soak her.
She sighed. Well, she'd seen enough jays in the birdbath at her grandmother's house to know how it usually went; it made her feel silly, but she bent down and used her wings to slosh massive quantities of water up and over herself. It was a surprising amount of work, but fortunately her wing muscles were deceptively strong, and it only left her with a bit of an elevated heart rate. She did the best she could at using her feathers as a makeshift washcloth to wipe the dirt off her bare skin, then another couple vigorous splashings took care of cleaning them off.
She stepped out of the water and sat down on a large rock to give herself a once-over; her feathers were all ruffled, and it took her a moment to figure out how to let them all settle back into place. She did what she could to get any tangles out of her hair as well, before it dried and made it harder; she was surprised to find that, if she really worked at it, she was flexible enough to reach the top of her head with her talons. Of course, they weren't as good at the task as a proper comb, but that had been in her satchel.
Standing back up, she peered into the water for a look at the results. It wasn't perfect; there was still just a bit of a grungy patina to her skin, and she hoped wherever she was going they would have soap and hot water, but it'd do for now. Anyway, she was more put out by the fact that, if she'd still been wearing the tunic, her nipples would've been poking through it; evidently even though the cold hadn't gotten down into the core of her body, it didn't stop her skin from getting clammy. She sighed; nothing she could do about it now, not until she got her clothes back.
Sarah couldn't stop turning it over in her mind - that the "ancient" artifact was not just a computer, but a recognizably modern-ish computer from her own world, at that! Thus far, she'd been mostly too wrapped up in dealing with her immediate circumstances to stop and consider it, but this really made the question of exactly what this place she was in was pretty well inescapable. Was she literally inside the game? If that was the case, how was it that the computer wasn't much older? She wasn't any kind of an expert on computers, but she knew enough to recognize that, as old as the laptop was, it was still a lot newer than the game must've been - so they couldn't possibly have coded it into the game as such, could they?
On the other hand, had the computer been brought here? When? How? By whom? If this was literally a game, how would that even work? She supposed that she herself was brought here, but then, her body wasn't...or at least she didn't think it was. It was more like her consciousness had been transferred to something that seemingly belonged in this world and had been here before she inhabited it. That was probably kind of a different thing, she guessed. If it weren't for the fact that things in this maybe-an-'80s-arcade-game were so much more complex and realistic than in any modern game she'd ever heard of, she could almost imagine it being some kind of exceptionally elaborate virtual-reality thing.
And anyway, how ancient could it possibly be? However ancient it might be by computer standards, it was hardly enough time for a whole people to disappear into the mists of prehistory. Did time flow differently here? Could she return home to find that she'd only been gone for a few seconds, or not at all? And if the laptop really had been here for aeons, how was even still in working order, let alone actually running? She'd had phone batteries die after a mere year, let alone several thousand! And if the technology of the "ancients" was old laptops, how was it that she was this kind of clockwork automaton thing, if this body had been built in imitation of their designs? None of this added up...
She was distracted from this train of thought by a figure walking up to them. It was a lion-man; like many of the inhabitants here, he had an animal body with a human head, but he also had a pair of large golden-feathered wings folded up along his sides. His hair, or his mane, or whatever you wanted to call it, looked to have been a rich golden-brown in years past, though it was flecked through with silver now. His face was craggy with age, although he wasn't quite into the realm of "elderly" just yet. Even though he was looking up at them, he seemed enormous - there was something grand and imposing about him. While he didn't look at all hostile, it was a little intimidating.
The sphinx strode up to them in that feline way, managing to look simultaneously casual and dignified. Beside her, Tom gave a quick little bow; Sarah wasn't sure what she was supposed to do in this kind of situation, so she did the same.
"The others told me that two outsiders had come looking to stay for a few days," the sphinx said, in a gravelly, sonorous voice. He regarded Tom briefly. "I recognize your scent, but please refresh my memory. Who are you, who is your companion, and what is your business with us?"
"M-my name is Tom, sir," Tom stammered, clearly a little on-edge. "This is Sarah. I'm...trying to help her stay clear of a fellow who wants to sell her at auction. We're just on our way out of the city, and we need to stay off the main road for a couple of days before going on to the port."
The sphinx frowned. "Selling? I thought your empire forbids that kind of thing."
Tom nodded hastily. "Well, yes, it's just...well, it wasn't clear at first that she was a person and not just a thing, and I'm not sure he'd care if he did know, and she's..." He hesitated noticeably. "She's...not exactly a living thing. So I had no idea who the law would back if it came to it."
The sphinx chuckled. "I could tell she isn't any kind of animal," he said. "No matter how she covers up, she doesn't smell like one at all. What are you, madam? Let me see."
Sarah hesitated, unsure if she should comply. Tom had seemed worried about letting people know what she was, and how the people in this village would react, and on top of that their conversation had already begun to draw attention from some of the villagers, who were gradually congregating around them at a respectful distance. But on the other hand, based on what the sphinx - this must be the mayor, she assumed - said, he pretty much already knew, and she was on the spot in any case; it wasn't like she could just refuse, not if they wanted to stay here. With a delicate metallic sigh, she shed her cloak.
The mayor's eyes widened. "Goodness," he said, half to himself. "I'd never have thought..." He turned to Tom. "I can see why a man might see profit to be made from her," he said. "But how was it that you came across her in the first place? Surely she is the work of the Ancients?"
Tom shook his head. "No, not-well, yes, sort of, but not exactly. We were handling the estate of an old inventor fellow. Used to make clocks and the like. From what I read, it seems like he got it into his head to try and copy the designs from some old relics they'd dug up. She's what he built, before he died. Only she says she's a different person who found herself in that body after he was already gone."
The sphinx gave a Hmmm that felt like it extended into the sub-sonic range. "Stranger and stranger. But I've heard of sorcery doing stranger things than that. Very well, you've answered my questions honestly, and we have no love for those that would sell people like property here. You can stay with us for a few days if you like, until you can safely go on your way."
"Um," Sarah said, "then...it doesn't matter...the metal thing?"
He laughed outright at that. "You already complied with the guards at the gate, and I certainly can't ask you to do any more, no more than I could demand that your friend take his skin off and leave it with them. Don't trouble yourself over it." He turned to one of the villagers who had gathered nearby, most of whom were now staring in amazement at the large brass key slowly unwinding behind her. "Millicent," he said, "would you be willing to let them stay with you for the next day or two?"
A fox stepped out of the group. "Yessir, I suppose I could," she said. "Come with me, you two."
Jon grimaced as her stomach rumbled again. It was already well into early afternoon, and she still hadn't made any progress towards finding whoever it was that had taken her clothes. She'd returned to the spot where she'd found the fabric snagged on a tree branch, and tried to continue on in the direction she'd been going before she fell in the mud, but thus far there was no sign of anything or anyone. On top of which, she was beginning to get weak from hunger. She was beginning to wonder if she'd have to do something crazy like try and hunt and kill something and eat it raw and bleeding, but that thought made her shudder - she wasn't that far gone, and she hoped she wouldn't be any time soon.
She was beginning to wonder how much longer she could last when she spied a flash of color in the shady dark greens and browns of the forest floor. Curious, she made her way over to investigate, and was beyond thrilled to discover that one of the clumps of brush was actually a thicket of raspberry canes. She looked around briefly, but there wasn't any indication that it belonged to anybody; it was just a wild canebrake. She wondered briefly if it was safe to just eat things she found in the wild, but she reasoned that, for starters, it wasn't like mushrooms where it could take an expert to distinguish between the ones that could kill you and the ones that couldn't, and hopefully if there was anything to worry about with magic, the fact that she'd gotten good and far from the giant mushroom grove meant that these should be safe. Anyway, what choice did she have? It was this or nothing.
Jon carefully poked one talon into the thicket, using her wings to steady herself as she balanced on the other. Fortunately, the tiny prickles on the raspberry canes weren't tough enough to poke into the thick, scaly skin on her talons. Encouraged, she got a little more aggressive, raking as many berries as she could off the canes and scooping them into a little pile on the ground. Sitting down (and then having to readjust so that she wasn't sitting on her tailfeathers,) she ate greedily. It wasn't a substitute for a full meal, but after having nothing to eat since yesterday, it was practically heaven.
Jon had just finished with her makeshift lunch when she spotted something on the ground a little ways away. Walking over to it, she found that it was the comb that had been in her satchel. Now that she knew she was headed the right direction after all, she felt encouraged...right up until a small, blurry shape swooped down from the sky, snatched it from her outstretched talon, and darted off into the forest. Jon gaped, then scrambled after it. "HEY!" she yelled. "Come back here, you little bastard!"
Tom and Sarah followed the fox into another part of the village. In a place where everybody seemed to be some variety of strange chimera of human and animal parts, it was simultaneously odd and comforting to Sarah to see someone who was almost entirely animal. Almost being the key word; she seemed a bit larger than Sarah thought a normal fox was, and she had a mop of loosely-arranged, human-like auburn hair on her head, cut to what would've been jaw-length on a human, but which was a little longer on a fox on account of her shallower head. There was also a difference in her face; Sarah couldn't tell for certain if it was a little more human-like in shape, or if it was just seeing human-like expression in it that made it seem that way.
She led them through a little tangle of small buildings, out to a little hillside leading deeper into the woods. In the slope of the hill, there were a handful of passages closed off by wooden doors. She led them up to one of these, and stood up to open it. She didn't totter precariously the way a dog does when trying to stand upright, but she didn't quite stand fully erect like a human, either, and Sarah realized that she could also add "thumbs" and "a figure" to the list of differences between Millicent and an ordinary animal. It wasn't terribly pronounced, but there was just a bit of a curve to her waist and hips, and while it was difficult to tell under the fur, Sarah was pretty sure that she had something along the lines of human-like breasts. For some reason, this (plus the fact that she was completely unclothed) seemed less weird than it probably should have; it was less like she was some kind of strange hybrid and more like she was the real-life equivalent of a character from some old '30s cartoon or other. It was hard to shake that impression even when she dropped back onto all fours and beckoned them inside.
The door was larger than necessary for the vixen herself, but Tom had to stoop almost to the ground to enter, and Sarah actually had to get on her hands and knees, on account of the key sticking out of her back. Fortunately, things were a bit roomier once they got a little ways down the entryway tunnel, although Sarah's head nearly touched the ceiling and Tom still had to keep his head down. They were in a little room some five feet high, with several tiers of shelves staked into the walls and a cooking hearth burning steadily at one end; there was a large ceramic pot suspended over the brightly-glowing coals. The walls were dirt, but it had been packed and smoothed to the point where it almost looked like plaster. The floor was similarly primitive, but a layer of sand had been poured on top of the bare soil to prevent things from getting too muddy. A little passageway went off further into the hill, but it was too dark to see anything down that way.
"Welcome to my home," Millicent said, showing what Sarah figured counted as a smile if you were a canine. "My husband dug this den for us. Lucky he made enough room for larger visitors. Dinner should be ready in a bit here. I hope you don't mind rabbit? ...not rabbit people, dear!" she added, noticing Sarah blanch.
Tom chuckled. "That sounds fine to me," he said. Sarah shrugged. "Thanks, but...I'm not sure I actually eat to begin with." She looked around. "Your...your husband...made this?"
Millicent's tail began to thrash happily as she stood back up, settling back onto her haunches as she tended the stew. "Mm-hmm. We could've stayed with his parents, but he thought we should have a place of our own." She smiled and rubbed gently at her stomach. "And with our first litter on the way...well, I'm glad we have the room."
Sarah smiled at that, feeling some inner mechanism change its tempo. For as much as she'd tried to play at being aloof and detached in school, she'd always had a weak spot for this kind of thing. "When are you due?" she asked.
Millicent smiled. "Oh, not for a couple months yet," she said. "He's away on business at the moment, but we tried to time it so he could be here for the arrival." She lifted the lid off the pot and took the ladle out for a quick test. "That's good and ready," she said. "Mister, if you look on the lowest shelf over by your shoulder there's some bowls."
Tom got a little wooden bowl for each of them, and their hostess dished up; Sarah refrained from having any, since she didn't actually feel any senstation like hunger and had no idea what would happen to anything she tried to eat. They sat around the little table in the center of the room; Millicent sat on her haunches with her forepaws on the floor and lapped at her bowl, while Tom lifted his and sipped at it gingerly, waiting for it to cool down. Sarah just watched them. Finally the meal began to wind down.
"So," Sarah asked, "I...I just have to ask, what's with the thing about metal? They wanted to take it away when we got here, but when I showed the mayor what I was, he acted like it wasn't a problem...I don't get it."
The vixen shrugged and smiled. "Well, for one, some of the forest spirits won't come near metal," she said. "Some of them are vulnerable to iron, or whatnot. And we like to have them around. But mostly it's all this machinery the humans insist on using for everything. We like being independent here. But if we were to start using machines for everything, then we'd have to rely on those that make the machines, and if they decided they wanted something more out of us in exchange for them, then where would we be?" She frowned. "Besides, I don't like what it does to their way of thinking. Seems like the more they use machines for what people used to do, the more they think of people like machines. From what you two were telling the mayor, you saw that kind of thinking yourself, in this fellow you're trying to get away from."
Tom bristled a little at that. "It's not as cut and dried as all that," he said.
Millicent shrugged. "Maybe not. We don't see too many humans around here, after all. But it seems that way to a lot of us. Anyway, you can always go to another city if you have to live that way. There's certainly enough of them around."
Sarah thought for a moment. "Wait, wait, forest spirits? Those...are a thing?"
Millicent laughed. "And don't forget it! Of course not every wood has its own protective spirits, or the lumberjacks'd have a time of it, but go deep enough into an old forest and you're bound to run into something - and there's all kinds of other things you can run into just about anywhere. We like to stay on good terms with them - in the bad old days, that's what kept us safe from slavers and the like."
Sarah frowned. "I thought the mayor said that slavery was illegal."
"It is," Tom said. "But it wasn't always so. Or at least it used to depend on where you were. And there's still barbarian lands in other parts of the world where they probably practice it. But it's been illegal throughout the empire for hundreds of years. They say the first Emperor had a trusted general who started as the leader of a slave revolt - and after that, I think they've always figured that it's better to have a million individual taxpayers with their own money than to have ten thousand taxpayers with ninety-nine taxable assets apiece and have to be fighting off rebellions all the time."
"And they don't mind us much one way or the other," Millicent said, "since we don't take up land that anybody else wants, on account of the spirits, and we don't have much worth taxing. Not that they don't take it out of poor Harry when he goes out on business, mind you, but they mostly leave us alone." She raised her hind end off the floor, had a deep stretch in front of the fire, and shook her tail out. "Anyway, it's time I was getting off to bed. I'm sorry we don't have a bedroom for you two, but it's a pretty comfortable floor, if that helps."
Tom shrugged. "It's more than we'd have out on the road, anyway. Thanks for putting us up." The vixen nodded and padded off into the back passageway on all fours.
Tom took off his jacket and spread it out on the floor. "You can lie on this if you're worried about the dirt," he said. Sarah shrugged. "I...I don't know if I even sleep to begin with," she said, remembering the motionless, mannequin-like state she'd taken when she was trying to hide from him at first. "I probably don't need to lie down for it, in any case."
Tom nodded and laid down, curled up in front of the fire. Sarah sat on the floor, staring at the remains of the glowing coals, thinking about what a strange situation she'd found herself in, and feeling her mainspring slowly unwind as she waited to see if anything like sleep would come.
Darrin laid in bed for what seemed like forever, listening with her sharpened hearing for the sound of her "parents" drifting off to sleep. It took her back to the first time she'd been a little kid, waiting for the opportunity to sneak downstairs and turn on the TV with the sound down to catch the late-night monster movies. She was surprised by how clearly the old quiet tension returned to her, but then, plenty of things about the childhood experience seemed to be coming back to her quite easily since this started.
When they finally began to snore soundly, she got out of bed and padded softly across the floor to the desk. She'd taken out a sheet of paper and a pencil earlier, before they'd gotten her ready for bed; now, she sat down and tried, tail thrashing, to think of what to write. It was difficult to even think of; she tried to think of what Diana would say, but she didn't really know Diana, other than to know that she'd already tried to run off more than once. She settled for trying to come up with something to reassure them without giving them any reason to think she was coming back. When she was finished, she sat back and re-read it by the light of the full moon:
Dear "Mom" + "Dad'
Im sorry but Im not really your dauter "Diana" + Diana couldnt live this way ether. I guess your trying to be nice but she wasnt a human + Im not ether now. Makin her stop actin like a cat person isnt fair to any one. Thats why she ran away + why Im leaving too. Im not going to the school. I hav to find how to get back to being me + let Diana be her + maybe she can find some one who lets her be a cat person. But I think you meant well + maybe she knows that to. Bye + Im going now.
Not Diana
She looked it over and frowned. Things didn't seem quite right about some of the words, but she couldn't remember how they were supposed to look. It didn't seem as reassuring as she'd meant, but she couldn't think of a better way to put it. Leaving it on the desk, she carefully lifted the chair up as quietly as she could and set it down on top, one leg pinning the note in place. Doffing the enveloping, multi-layered nightgown they'd dressed her in, Darrin pulled on a pair of pants and the closest thing she could find to a plain, unisex shirt, then wrapped herself in the cloak that they'd fortunately hung up in her room and not downstairs in the entryway. Glancing at the diary, she hesitated for a moment, before taking it - she still wondered if it could tell her anything about how much she and Diana had in common, and anyway if she did manage to find a way to leave this body and let Diana have it back, she might want it.
Climbing carefully up onto the desk and then onto the chair, Darrin lifted herself up to the windowsill and tried to push it open. She had a brief scare when the window turned out to be hinged in the middle, and pushing on the top almost swept her feet out from under her as the bottom swung back into the room, but she was able to let herself back down carefully, push the bottom open, and then climb back up without making too much noise.
Slipping out the window and shutting it behind her, she stood on the little section of roofing that extended out below her window. The city spread out before her; this was it. Nervously, she crouched down, and with a deep breath, she sprang from the roof into the air above the street. Time seemed to slow down as she sailed through space; the street below seemed terribly distant. Then it was the roof of the next house over below her, coming up fast. She instinctively tensed up as she prepared to land.
She touched down on the roof with as little of a thud as could be expected from someone of her size, and skidded to a stop on the tiles. Picking herself up, Darrin looked around. Buildings and rooftops lay in all directions; she couldn't see the horizon from here. Closing her eyes, she felt her ears prick up as she tried to listen. The city wasn't silent even in the dead of night, but it was much quieter than it ever got in a modern city. Off in the distance, she could hear the sound of water...that way.
She started looking around for a way to get down, then thought better of it. Who knew what she'd run into down on the street? She was already up here, and while none of the roofs were exactly even with each other, the ups and downs seemed to more or less average out, so in all probability she could just move from rooftop to rooftop. Besides, something in the cat side of her felt right about being up here, above the rest of the world.
Tentatively at first, then with more confidence, the young catgirl began to make her way across the rooftops.
