ETTING 
OME 
O 
LFANDRA
Anton's Journey chapter 1 - Hard Landing
ETTING OME O LFANDRA
At first, it is nothing more than a glowing spark,
so tiny and small, hanging in the blue and blackened sky, hanging over
an ocean of foliage, which seems to go on forever. Beneath the boughs,
small eyes gaze heavenward, as the spark becomes an orb, filled with thick
air. If these eyes were to look close enough, they might have been able
to make out a tiny, black speck expelled from the light. They would never
have been able to see that this speck was in fact a figure, six and a half
feet
tall, brown, furred - and falling rapidly.
The figure makes no sound as it falls,
plunging on its rapid descent towards its unlikely mattress. The orb disappears.
The figure falls, unnoticed. And then, as swift as the event began, it
is over. He lands, not lightly, but harshly, not casually but painfully,
dashed against cruel limbs of bark and interwoven leaf. But they break
his fall, so death at least for now is kept at bay, as this traveller finds
his way, to this world of delirium deep, and nightmare echoes resounding
in sleep.
The traveller touches earth, bleeding and
breathing, blood mixed with mud, and comes to a rest, far from home.
This is wrong.
Painfully, the furred eyes of the predator
awaken. A grazed paw twitches into life, and heaves it's bruised corpse
vertically, before lupine lips slur and the beast speaks.
"I don't think I'll be doing that again
anytime soon."
Nearing full consciousness, Anton slowly
and painfully hauled himself to his feet. For Anton is the name of this
beast; Anton Lupus Wulfen. He knows, he knew something had happened, but
knew not yet what. Anton had not intended to make this journey. Indeed,
he hadn't planned on making any journey - yet a journey he had taken, and
the scars were stinging to prove it. As if drunk, Anton swung his head
around to take in his alien surroundings. The first thing he noticed was
trees, in number. Lots and lots of trees. In fact, nothing but trees. That
was one detail. Next was the gaping hole in the ceiling of foliage above
him, and several broken tree-limbs. As he stood in the shaft of light,
he made sure his own limbs were not in fact broken, and this detail assured,
he began to focus on the circumstances of his being there.
Prior to actually waking up on the cold,
wet mud, he actually had no memory of his descent. But given the evidence
- his own injury and the injury to the trees above him, it wasn't hard
to guess which way he had come in. So, he'd fallen… but from where?
He didn't recall doing anything that would
involve falling. His last memory before blackness had been blinding light,
and glowing fog. He recalled now - he had been out hunting for sport -
a white rabbit had caught his eye, as he lay basking on the bank of one
of Alfandra's many lakes. He'd given chase, and then… bam, blinding light,
glowing fog, wake up bleeding. A confusing situation for anyone really.
He stretched out his limbs now, and stood
taller as the pain became more tolerable, despite the fact that his calf
seemed to be bleeding rather profusely. Anton, most certainly, could be
thought of as an imposing figure. His muzzle of teeth was long and sharp,
and whether snarling or grinning, people were easily unnerved by the sight.
His frame, whilst not hulking, was well built enough. Enough to intimidate
enemies when he felt the need. And yes, Anton was a wolf, and an
anthropomorphic at that, standing tall on digitigrade
legs. His jeans had multiple rips in them, not by design but due to his
entrance to this bizarre place. The t-shirt covering his torso was in a
similar condition. And as he stood here beneath the shady boughs of the
trees, he contemplated his next action.
As he stood awhile in thought, he noticed
small details in the trees around them. They were horribly rough, and twisted,
all their limbs filled with jagged points
ready to cut and tear, he almost imagined he
could see faces in the wood, contorted as if in agony, like the plants
were pressed from the earth like one presses whey from cheese. There were
definitely no trees like this in any place he'd ever been before. They
seemed... unnatural. Disfigured, like they were from another world. As
he put the details of his plight together, Anton rather suspected this
might be the case.
He'd heard whispers of this phenomenon
before, back in the hollows of Alfandra.
According to rumours he'd heard, there were places
and worlds that lay in the void outside Alfandra, in reality, in imagination.
In dreams. Some said these worlds were connected by the substance that
filled the void between the worlds - Thick Air they said. Some of Alfandra's
dragons were said to be able to travel through this air... described as
a blinding, glowing fog.
As he stood in the shaft of sunlight that
filtered through the hole, all the stories he'd heard about Thick Air came
flooding back to him. Given his situation then, it was entirely possible
that he'd been... snatched here by that very substance. But 'here' was
of no importance to Anton now; rather, his mind turned to home, and more
importantly how to get there, should his fears
about the thick air be confirmed.
He stretched his limbs more now, his strength
was gradually returning to him after his descent. His kind did heal quicker
than some creatures, and was by no means superhuman - in fact, although
few know it, Weres bleed more than most creatures when cut. But the blood
was replaced quickly, and wounds closed over quicker still. And thankfully,
bones were tough to break.
As he paused awhile longer, he dimly noted
that this forest was exceptionally quiet. No creatures, no birds twittering
or such, as would be found in Alfandra. The only noise to be heard was
the whispering of trees. And for once, this metaphor was not misplaced;
as Anton listened closer, it actually seemed like the trees were whispering.
Or crying, rather. No words could be heard as such, but it was like a slow
moan that echoed in his ears...
Enough. This was not right. Time to leave,
he decided. And as he turned on his heels to make his exit, he came to
a dead halt, immediately. Standing a few feet away from him, gazing at
him with its jet-black eyes was a white rabbit. Standing on its hind legs.
With a breast coat... and pocket watch.
And the funny thing was, he could almost
guess what it was about to say.
"You're late."