“Greetings, traveller.” the approaching stranger called out, in a cheerful manner that clashed dramatically with how I was feeling right then. At the sound of his voice, the first person I had encountered here, or ever for all I knew, a slight relief filled me, relaxing tension I hadn’t even known I was worrying over, as I realised I could understand the language.

  As I turned and looked at this mysterious new arrival, he also looked like me, or how I assumed I looked, from the glimpses of my reflection caught in the stream water. All over in fur, though dark in his case, with the same big, pointed ears, bright eyes, thin whiskers on the cheeks, and a long, flexible tail held such that it didn’t quite drag in the dirt. He was dressed in rough, but sturdy looking trousers and long sleeve shirt, and carrying a large wicker basket and nothing else.

  I realised I had been watching him approach uncertainly for an uncomfortably long time, though the small, pleasant smile never left his face. My first attempt at speaking turned out to be an awkward squawking noise, followed by a lot of coughing, before my throat felt up to the challenge of trying talking again. Things were not off to a good start.

  “Greetings.” I responded back, with a forced smile and a wave, not sure what else would be expected of me. Internally, I was grumbling at the distraction right when I was in the middle of venting my annoyance and puzzling over these latest events, a distraction I would have welcomed not ten minutes earlier.

  I guess he must’ve caught my mood as his cheerful demeanour and eager wave earlier did not lead into much further small talk.

  “You travelled far?” he asked, with a touch of concern now.

  “You could say that, yes. Not from around here.”

  “Have you got a name?”

  “Oh, umm…” I stopped abruptly, aware that my eyes had gone wide in panic, not so much from the lack of name to give as from the sudden thought that the mysterious floating page that dictated my life might’ve taken that as a hint to name me Oh Um forever onwards.

  In the second or two that I tried to keep that thought under control, the stranger started to turn back towards the road.

  “Who needs names anyway? Though if you want, mine is Tristan, feel free to shout for me if you need anything.”

  And with that, he was heading back up the path. For a moment, I considered shouting after him, but what would I say? Which of many questions could I ask of him? Instead, I watched him leave, frustrated at myself this time, rather than whatever strange magical rules I was stuck trying to deal with.

  First, though, I pulled up my abilities list again, and was immediately relieved to see that my name hadn’t changed, then I read further down.

  Name: ??

  Species: Feliform

  Hearth Mage - Level 1

  Health 4/4 - Stamina 3/6 - Mana 0/6

  Skills:

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  Rest - Create a comfortable resting place for yourself. Sleeping here recovers stats at twice the usual rate.

  Ah, that made sense now, I hadn’t thought about how having mana points usually meant running out of them at some inopportune time. Apparently at my level, or perhaps just with my low stats, summoning and dismissing the same single item I was capable of conjuring had drained through the whole lot in moments. I wondered how I compared to anyone else around this world, perhaps to this Tristan, still visible some distance down the path, strolling along without any apparent care or concern. Did he have similar abilities, or better ones, a higher level rating, or did this not apply to him at all? Had he been dropped here without warning or explanation or history? Or was all this only happening to me, and everyone else here was just normal.

  Not wanting to appear any more crazy than I likely already did, I waited until Tristan was out of sight along the road toward the large sprawl of trees visible on the horizon ahead. First, I returned to my little dam in the stream, by then almost completely collapsed. Rebuilding the whole thing, I watched carefully to see if doing so unlocked any more useful bonuses, but nothing happened. Then, I returned back to the roadside, determined to get something more useful out of the next person I saw. I sat and rested, and tried to plan what next to say. I did not have long to wait.

  Distant, muffled voices of two men carried over the landscape for some time before they came into view, heading down the road from the other side. A pair of big, tough looking dog people, both in what looked to be military outfits, complete with helmets, an unfamiliar golden symbol on the fronts of their breastplates, and short swords at their hips.

  “...guys like that don’t last long on the force.” one of them was saying to the other as they came close enough to overhear. “I shouldn’t worry too much about it. He’ll be someone else’s problem soon enough.”

  “Soon enough doesn’t feel soon when we’re having to trek all of this way on a fool’s errand. He knows there’s nothing there, right.”

  “Course he does, wouldn’t have sent us otherwise. The Captain knows he can’t punish us for… hold on, there’s someone up ahead.”

  I scrambled to my feet as they approached, still uncertain what to say.

  Rather than smiling and waving, one of them came right over to me, uncomfortably close for a tall, armed stranger.

  “What’s this, a lost little kitty out on her own? Don’t worry kitty, I’ll take good care of you.”

  He stepped even closer, looming right over me. Every thought I’d had about how best to phrase a question about the world I had found myself in disappeared as panic took over. Before I knew what was happening, one of his big, strong hands was on my shoulder and the other around my back, pulling me towards him suddenly, tipping me off balance. Right up close to him, I could feel his hot breath on my face.

  “Not to worry, what happens all the way out here… nobody ever needs to know about. And then, when we’re done, you can come back to town with us, somewhere nice and safe.”

  As he was speaking, his hand slipped down from my shoulder and across my chest, cupping around and squeezing my breasts through the thin dress. Even as dangerous as the two big, tough men looked, I struggled, I wriggled and pulled away, tried to bring my knee up between his legs, as best I could aim between the multiple layers of toughened, armoured uniform. All my effort only managed to bring a grin to his face.

  “A feisty one, is it, they’re always the most fun.”

  He clawed at my dress, the fabric straining, tearing, the softer, paler fur underneath exposed in places now, while the arm around my back bunched more and more of the fabric, pulling the hem higher up my thighs with practised ease, never letting the grip loosen enough for me to wriggle free.

  The other man had stopped a few steps further down the road and just watched for a moment.

  “Come on now, Will.” he called, with a resigned sigh “there’ll be plenty of time for that later, we need to get on our way. Still some hours to go before we’re in town.”

  Will acknowledged with a grunt, and pushed me back, watching me tumble into a bush, before simply turning away and paying me no more notice. As I scrambled my way out of the plantlife, rough branches jabbing into me all over, I tried to adjust my torn dress to cover some of my exposed chest, then turned and ran as fast as I could back away from the road.