Tiana was an only child.
That seemed to be important. Or, so it sounded. Greg found it hard to both focus on conversation and staying upright. It didn't matter most of the time, as she was a quiet one. That was to be expected of someone taking a trip alone. However, she wasn't averse to conversation, and details of her family came easily and unprompted. Same for the reasons for the trip: She wanted to see the world. If there were reasons unstated or hinted at, Greg wasn't getting that.
That, too, was expected.
His mind was not what it was. Even with attention focused, he knew he was missing most of what went on around him. Gone was the person he had been. Would he get him back?
Hard to say. He first had to wrap his brain around who he was.
****
"Enough." Greg stopped his forward motion, legs trembling as his right hand gripped the cane handle harder. "Enough. I'm done." He took a deep breath, free hand trying to find the canteen now hanging from his shoulder by a twine strap. "Keep going, but I'm done for the day."
Tiana stopped a few steps ahead of him, head cocked questioningly. She looked around, letting out a sigh.
"I had hoped you could go farther."
"Me too." He hobbled over to the closest tree. On seeing a nearby log, he changed direction. Left hand behind him searching, he turned and backed up, lowering himself when he felt it hit his leg. "I know it's early and I haven't traveled far, but my legs are killing me." His butt hit the log.
Her gaze was on him again. He wished he was better at reading people.
At least furry ones.
"It's OK. It's the journey that's important, after all."
That triggered a memory. He felt his face scowl as he sent his mind tracking it down.
"I remember something. Some song." He felt his mind reluctantly giving up its secret. "There was a lyric that went something like 'The point of the journey is not to arrive' or some such. Either it agreed with you, or the song was about suicide."
She gave him another look he couldn't decipher.
"True." Her gaze stayed for another moment. Eventually she shrugged. "Let me set up camp."
****
Monkey Girl camp seemed little different than a Human Girl one. It was made up of the same rain fly from the night before, set up as a lean-to against the wind. Her bedroll was just two blankets, nestled back where the fly touched the ground. A small pot appeared, filled with water from a stream just visible from where he sat. He couldn't see what went into it, but he assumed it was vegetables of some type. The wind kept whatever scents it produced away from him.
Greg felt useless. Naked, cold, useless. And tired. His legs, back, even right arm ached. Only his left arm, freed from actual work during the day's walk, seemed OK. A lot of good that did him.
"Is there anything I can help with?"
Her eyes again regarded him, hand still stirring the mystery dinner. Those red eyes were so...
"No. It's OK. Just sit there I'll have food for you soon."
He nodded. It was like being back in rehab. Sure, you were forced to do stuff part of the day, but the rest you stayed in your bed or chair and let them take care of you. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much you could do.
Stupid legs and brain.
"What's wrong with you?"
Tiana'a voice was gentle. Caring. Spoken any other way and he may have chosen to take insult. As it was he just sighed, leaning back against the tree trunk.
"My brain. I had an attack, and was left like this. I'm taking medicine to help things improve, or at least not get worse." Greg realized something. "Medicine I don't have." He sat up. "Shit."
"Is it important?" She stood, coming over. Her haired form seemed to tower over him. Greg let his head fall back against the tree.
"Most of the pills, probably no. They were to counteract the side effects of the other ones. But... " He shook his head. "Best not to worry about it. If something can't be helped..." Greg stopped. He knew he was going somewhere with that saying, but could no longer think of anything that didn't sound silly.
"True." Tiana touched his right knee as she knelt. "We will deal with each problem as it comes."
He frowned. His hand went to his hair of its own accord, running through the brown locks.
"You're going to... stay with me? You don't have to." Well, to be more accurate, she had to if he was to have any chance of survival in this place. She just, really, had no reason to do that. Dumping him off somewhere somewhat safe was what most would probably do. Tiana nodded.
"I don't, but I will. There's something about you. I don't know what." Her hand was rubbing his knee. The smooth hardness of her palm felt good. TOO good. Greg had not felt an erection since this had happened, but now felt a stirring. All sorts of conflicting emotions washed over him. Embarrassment was high on the list, but he suppressed it, along perhaps with the erection which would have increased the feeling. It was also possible he just couldn't have one.
"What's the name of this place?" His gaze swept the lightly treed area.
"The world, or this area?" His eyes moved to meet hers. Smart she was.
"I'm ignorant of both."
She nodded, hand squeezing his knee.
"We call the world Nchi, which in the tongue of those who came before us meant 'Land of our Home'. This is what was once a road that ran between two small cities. I don't think it still has a name, as few use it. Travel and trade flows north and east from Leafbrother, as few now live south and west."
"You do."
"Few important." She stood, hand retaining contact as long as practical. "Stew should be ready. Let me get a bowl."
****
It had fish.
Greg wasn't sure why he was surprised. She seemed human in every other respect. Yet, he had assumed her people to be vegetarian. This seafood had been salted and dried, rehydrated in the stew. He downed the large chunks as quickly as he deemed polite, and safe. No bones so far.
"You like it?" Her voice sounded nervous. He smiled, spoon pausing.
"Yes. Thank you." Her eyes dropped down into her lap, a red tinge again seeming to appear on her black furred face.
"Good." Lifting her own bowl, she sipped the broth. "There's more if you need it."
"If you let me, I'll decimate your provisions. This is really good." He lifted the bowl himself, taking a large swig of the stew. He could feel it flow down into his stomach, energizing his body. He heard a chuckle.
"Go for it."
****
His eyes slowly opened.
Greg knew it wasn't morning. The darkness sort of hinted at that. He also suspected it wasn't far past sunset. He had gone to bed early, not protesting when Tiana insisted he use one of the blankets. It felt so good to have something cloth covering him, even if the grass and dirt under him wasn't that comfortable. He guessed maybe 10 PM, assuming days here were about the same as at home (and if this was a dream, why wouldn't they be?).
He also guessed it was her hand that was slowly stroking him.
If he had been himself, he would have jumped up, complained. Or, at least, said something about the great liberty she was taking. Despite what some of his acquaintances might think, he was a bit of a prude, and wanted to have at least consented to being touched. Being male didn't suddenly make molestation OK.
Neither did his fuzzy mental state, although he could understand it being confused for such.
Her touch was gentle, exploring. Whatever her experience with her own kind, this was obviously new. Not so new that she didn't know what part of him she was dealing with, though. While one hand gently moved up and down his shaft, the other held his balls. He could see in the rather bright star or moon light the intense concentration on her face. A narrow but somewhat long tongue flicked out, wetting her lips as he felt himself harden. His eyes closed, relishing the feeling. He had not been in this condition since... well, at least since the attack. He had felt pleasure when touching himself, but not the physical reaction. Not the rise in pressure. Not the building up which could only result in...
His eyes opened in shock. He could feel the rush of pleasure. The surge of something coming from within. Greg made no effort to hold it back. A moment later he heard the surprised gasp as he ejaculated onto her. Her hand kept up its movements.
Greg rolled his head to the side. God, how long? How long since he had felt that feeling? Yes, she should have asked, but, God! His eyes closed, then opened. Should he tell her he was awake? Say something? No. He was tired. So tired. As his eyelids began to close, he half glanced at Tiana's face. She was bringing a sperm covered hand up to her mouth...
****
Back to walking.
He had decided last night hadn't been a dream. No more of a dream than the rest of this, and this was a dream, right? It had to be. Thus the late night hand job had been 'real' within that dream, not a dream within a dream. If that made sense. What certainly made sense was Tiana's nervousness around him. She knew she had overstepped what was acceptable, yet didn't want to confess as that would just cause problems. That he knew and understood that reasoning helped, he thought. He wasn't looking for hidden meaning behind her actions.
Let her worry about his actions, or lack thereof.
Their pace was faster today, if only by a little bit. The ground was a bit more even, perhaps even a bit down hill. The 'road', as it was starting to become, ran close to a stream, his canteen constantly refilled. His bladder was also constantly emptied. This was an advantage to hiking nude. He was at least stopping to relieve himself.
He had learned that lesson.
****
The trees were getting bigger. Not taller, or at least not that he could tell. The trunks were larger. Many he could not wrap his arms fully around. They seemed to block out the sun more, even this early in the afternoon. Still no sign of the city ahead. Sleeping on the ground again looked like a distinct possibility.
Tiana stopped ahead of him, slipping her pack off her back.
"We're here."
He continued on for two steps before stopping, fearing he'd become unstable if he stopped his momentum too quickly. He frowned at her.
"We're where?"
"Leafbrother." Her face broke into a grin as she pointed upwards. He looked up.
Ah. Things made more sense now.
The trees above were filled with structures. Not fully enclosed ones, necessarily, although those certainly filled the trees. Others were more just the structural elements, providing what was needed for a particular function and nothing else. In many places the wood, even the tree itself, was painted or stained. After the muted browns and greens of the forest floor, the colors were almost blinding.
He blinked.
"I assume I'm not going with you into town."
"I'm afraid not." She walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Will you be OK here alone? I won't be long."
He let out a laugh, surprise clear on her face. He adjusted his stance.
"I think I can survive an hour or two alone. Unless you want to hire a baby sitter for me."
"No." She returned his grin twofold. "You'll be fine. Watch my bags. I'll be back in an hour or so." She moved her pack to a nearby tree, waiting for him to settle into place. With an exchange of nods, she jumped up onto the trunk, tail wrapping around it.
Greg looked away. He didn't want to be accused of looking up her skirt.
He was in the basement of Leafbrother. The sewers. The underworld. Where monsters, criminals, and the poor lived. Which was which probably depending on where you were in the social strata. He recalled some BBC show Neil Gaiman had written (then turned into a book), about that world under London. It was to point out the homeless problem. Gaiman had warned the producer, "You realize that if I write it, being homeless will seem cool, right?"
That was about all he recalled, apart from it being a little long at six episodes.
He looked around. The place wasn't really handicapped accessible. Then again, if predators were similar to those on his world, making the place such would also open them to attack from wolves and such. Maybe they carried the invalid up in baskets. Maybe they shot them. Who could say. Maybe he should stop imagining what they were like. That was probably a good idea.
What should he do instead?
Eyes closed, he leaned back against the bark.
What he shouldn't do is think about how stupid and hopeless his situation here was. He was not equipped, yet, to survive back home, in a world he was perfectly trained and adapted for. Now here he was in a strange place, with strange (and furry) people. All his body knew how to do was stumble about with a cane.
What about his mind?
Ah. That was the key. Right now it was still fuzzy. The world still moved a bit. If there was anything to read, he'd probably find that was still difficult. But, could he THINK?"
...yes. Yes, he could.
But not now.
Closing his eyes, he snuggled back against the tree.
Greg slept.
****
He was walking down a causeway, the sun just touching the trees. The path was maybe four feet above the water, overgrown with grass yet with a sense of age and long use. On either side the lake was clear, fish visible floating over a rocky bottom.
Ahead, a tree.
It rose up like something an elf would worship, branches curving up in ways that seemed designed. Leaves as green as any he had seen. He sensed a power. Power that flowed towards him. Through him. With each breath his stride became more stable, his cane more ceremonial.
"Bring me the cane." He heard the voice filling the air around him, yet obviously coming from ahead. His dream mouth felt dry.
"Why?" He glanced around. His mindless trance was still not a trusting one. The voice, now sounding female, chuckled.
"I shall give you power, Greg of Buffalo."
****
"Greg."
His eyes opened. Tiana stood next to him, a hand on his shoulder. She held a new bag, seemingly stuffed with goodies. She also wore two necklaces. His horrible vision couldn't identify the design on the new one. Nor the old. He yawned.
"What?"
Her face broke into a grin. Her sandaled foot whacked his leg.
"Have nice dreams?"
The obvious answer, "No", he beat back. That's what the old him would have said. The new him... well, he still didn't know what he was about, but Greg was in no condition to keep secrets He had no idea what was real here. He pushed himself up against the tree, groaning.
"Interesting ones. Do you know of a small island in the middle of a lake, connected to shore by..."
"QUIET!" Her voice was a yelling whisper. Tiana dropped into a crouch beside him, knees spread. She grabbed his head, forcing his mouth within an inch of hers. Her voice was barely audible. "What did she tell you?"
"To bring my cane." His eyes followed hers to the black staff. As he glanced back at her, he saw her new charm was also a cane, the curved black stick hanging down to the swell of her breasts. Beside it was either an inverted cross, or a sword. He had never noticed how similar the two could look. Tiana took a deep breath, hands falling down onto his shoulders. She let it out, eyes locking with his.
"Then that is what we shall do.”