[z] Gwrngh?
I roll to the side, slightly, and wince.
The torture is pretty damn bad, I won't argue with that.
The landing isn't so bad, because it's over fast, and then I'm dead for a while, or at least unconscious.
The healing afterwards is what I hate the most, because I'm aware, and hurting like seven kinds of fuck— like now —and I can't do anything because it's better that I stay still. I
could be moving, though, theoretically.
But I have to stay still, and recover.
It's the waiting that I hate.
I shift and twitch various parts of my body, getting a feel for how shitty I feel.
Let's see... More broken ribs, and probably some bruised organs.
Bruises all over
me as well, by the feel of it.
Probably more than a few other broken bones.
No eyes, though that was there beforehand.
I poke around my mouth with my tongue. Two or three teeth loose-- oh, wait, there shouldn't
Ow! be a molar there. One broken off as well, making three or four. ...No, definitely Those'll be back in shape soon, at least.
How about you, legs?
...Toes are fine. Feet.... yep. Knees? Good. The whole thing..."
Well, hot damn. I can still
walk.
—Oooh, ow. Okay, I'll need to do it carefully. More than a little sore.
Arm check.
I whimper in sudden agony. Not going to be juggling for a few days, then. But is that both arms, th— Ow, fuck, ow, yes, dammit.
Handstands will also be out of the question, it seems.
The little soft thing nudges me again, then leans up against me, rubbing it body against my cheek. On the unbroken side, thankfully.
It meows once at me.
Okay, that's narrowed the possibilities down.
...I'm worried, though. I can't hear Orange nearby, which is up at the top of my panic list.
But the next item takes another few minutes to sink in, and makes me worried for the both of us.
This is a village, or a town, or something, right? Unless Orange mistook it for something else, but no, I think we smashed into some buildings. It explains some of the building-y smells.
But it's too quiet.
Meow. ...Okay, aside from the cat.
But there aren't any sounds of people, not even off in the distance. I hear the sounds of nature, but none of civilization. I suppose maybe I only blacked out for a second, and people were still shocked at what happened, maybe. But I should have heard something by now.
I don't like this.
I sniff the air again.
Mew? "Not you, cat."
The air smells musty and moldy, sort of. I can smell the rotted wood, and I remember now the sound of landing on ancient, brittle thatch.
This place may not have people.
But if that's the case...
"Hey, cat."
Mrrw? "There anybody around here? D'you— ow, dammit —Do you belong to anyone?"
Meow. "...Okay, I should've seen that coming. Is there a dog I could talk to, maybe?"
Prrow. I hear it softly tmp-tp-tp as it scampers off.
Well, that was fruitless.
you back here yet?
yes? no? maybe?
Damn. My friend's out of it, too, then.
Well, I could have landed in sorrier places. Smashing through a house and having my legs still be working is way,
way better than the time I spent banged up after landing on that rocky outcropping, and lay in a crumpled mess for a few days with a broken spine and a branch piercing my liver.
Bad times all around, that was.
...I wish I knew where Orange was.
I don't think she's dead. I can't believe that for a moment— not out of denial, but out of what I think she's capable of withstanding.
Doesn't make me any less worried, though.
If I'm to find her, though, I need to get up, which is hard with my arms like they are.
But I'm screwed again, after that; I've got no eyes to navigate with. I don't know the area, and a half-collapsed house is not going to be a smooth or easy place to navigate.
At least nothing's fallen on me.
I suppose I might have landed in some ancient shed or barn or something, on a really huge farm. I don't smell the iron of tools nearby, nor the dusty but distinct smell of any grain I know, but maybe they just don't use this one anymore.
It'd explain the cat, at least.
...Crap. If this
is a farm, I'm not really too hot on my chances if I'm found. At best, they'll spook and go get the militia or somebody, and they'll likely end up finishing me off, just to be sure that the Terrible Dangerous Youkai is taken care of.
Damn thoughtful of them.
And at worst, the farmer will do me in, himself.
Ugh.
I sigh, and lie back down.
...
Huh, one of my loose teeth is back in place again. That was fast.
...Which is odd, because they usually take a good four to six hours.
Maybe I've been out for longer than I thought? No way to tell the time, though...
Hold on, not true. My arms and face feel sort of warm, but not sun-overhead warm, so... either mid-morning, or afternoon. It's cold, but not like nighttime-cold kind of cold.
Which is colder.
Probably afternoon, then.
I sit and relax some more in this very unrelaxing heap I'm in. My back's feeling better than when I woke up, at least. Must have been on top of a chunk of rock or roof tile or something.
...
I hate waiting like this.
It is at that point that I hear footsteps.
They're not heavy, and not light. They're excited and uneven.
A child, then.
Oh.
Good.
I was
hoping someone would come to hurry me along.
I try not to growl too bitterly.
[ ] Can I help you?
[ ] GET OFF MY PORCH; WE DON'T WANT ANY
[ ] Hide behind the couch, maybe they'll think we're not home.
________________________________________________________________________________
>>112443 awful lot, there.
everyone so far takes as a given, but which just simply
isn't so. Or at least, it's much more complicated than the immediately (and I will admit, extremely
reasonable-seeming) leapt-to conclusion.
In other news, as I did this relatively early, I could theoretically write again tonight.
So vote hard and fast, because that's just the way I love it.
Mmmm.