I sat on the floor and leaned against the rocky wall, shutting my eyes. I tried to clear my mind, but the thoughts wouldn't go away.
Eventually, I laid down, unsure how long I stayed awake before sleep finally took over.
The next morning, something strange woke me up. A weird sensation on my groin.
My eyes snapped open, and to my horror, a bird was happily pecking at my privates like it had found breakfast.
With a loud yelp, I jumped. The bird flapped its wings and flew a short distance away, then stopped and stared at me like I was the weird one.
I looked down, inspected the area carefully for any scratches or missing parts, but everything seemed to be intact.
"You little pervert," I muttered, glaring at the bird. "Of all the places to peck, you chose that?"
I sighed. "Not your fault, I guess. I'm the one who decided to give you a live show." I got to my feet.
The bird gave a cheerful whistle, fluttered its wings, then turned around and started shaking its tail feathers in a ridiculous little dance.
"What the hell?" I frowned, staring. "Are you... twerking?"
My face darkened. "My Vanessa glows like the moon. You? You're just a feathery creep! Get the hell outta here!" I barked.
Startled, the bird squawked and flew off, disappearing into the sky.
I stretched, feeling stronger and more focused. I was ready to face this strange new world, and silently hoped Vanessa would be consoled, move on, find peace, and raise their child well. Boy or girl, I wouldn't know.
I looked up at the rocky wall I needed to climb. Staying trapped in that hole wasn't an option, not with birds making passes at me and poking my privates.
I considered looking for food, but my wolf had eaten well the night before. I'd be fine.
Shifting into my wolf, I started climbing the steep rock. It wasn't easy. The walls seemed endless.
After a long time, I finally looked down, and realized how far I'd come. One wrong step and I'd be a pancake.
Then, of course, the bird came back. It landed on me, flapping its wings and whistling like it was cheering me on.
"You've got some nerve!" I growled.
But as a wolf, it just came out as a deep, angry snarl.
That did the trick. The bird squealed and flew off like its tail was on fire, disappearing for good this time.
My wolf dug his claws into the rock and kept going, resting now and then. After what seemed like forever, he finally reached the top of the height, breathless and furs covered in dust.
For a moment, I let my wolf stand there, staring. It was nothing near the sky as I imagined.
Turning back into my human form, I looked around. In front of me was a vast field, not of grasses, but something that looked like wheat.
Or wasn't it? Wild wheat? I walked closer, studying the plant. It wasn't wild wheat.
Indeed, it was a wide field of golden wheat, swaying gently in the breeze like waves on a calm sea.
The sun touched the tops of the stalks, making them glow. Thin paths cut through the field, and in the distance, I could see small fences, maybe even the shape of a house or two.
My heart skipped.
I had believed I was dead. I thought this was the afterlife, quiet, strange, and empty. But no spirit planted wheat. No ghost built fences or walked narrow paths between golden rows. Or do they?
People lived here. Real people. Except I'm wrong.
I squinted and noticed something odd, scarecrows. Dozens of them, scattered across the field. Their arms were stretched out, dressed in old, worn clothes.
Birds sat on some of them, pecking at the wheat.
I frowned. If this was a spirit world, couldn't spirits chase birds away with magic? Why use scarecrows?
I stepped forward, the dry grass crunching under my feet. As I moved closer, faint voices reached my ears, soft, human sounds. Talking. Laughter. A child's squeal.
Then the farmhouse came into full view. It was a small, sturdy building made of wood and stone, with smoke curling out of a chimney. People walked in and out of it, men, women, even children. But something was strange.
Their clothes.
The men wore loose shirts made of rough cloth, tucked into simple trousers. Some had wide belts, boots, and cloaks slung over their shoulders.
A few wore hats made of straw or wool. The women had long dresses with aprons tied around their waists. Many wore cloth scarves or hoods over their heads, and their sleeves were rolled up as they worked.
I stared, stunned. I had seen outfits like these before, in old paintings, in movies about knights and castles. This was medieval. Completely out of place in the modern world I remembered.
Should I approach them? But I wasn't ready to face them just yet. Not like this.
I was completely, gloriously naked.
My clothes had vanished during the shift. I didn't mind being nude in the woods, trees didn't judge. But wheat fields? Farms? People? That was a problem.
And then came the birds.
They were everywhere. Perched on scarecrows, sitting along fences, even hopping through the wheat like tiny, nosy villagers.
They weren't just staring at me. No. They were gawking, especially at my groin.
I recalled the bird from earlier, it had gawked on my groin too.
One bold little bird flew down and landed on a nearby post, tilted its head, and let out a long whistle.
I blinked. "Did you just… whistle at me?"
The bird shook its feathers and whistled again, this time sounding suspiciously impressed.
"Oi!" I scowled, trying to shield my manhood with both hands. "Don't look at me like that. You birds got no shame! That's a man's pecker, not a public attraction."
Another bird swooped down, landed a few feet away, and, I swore on my wolf blood. It twerked.
Its feathery backside bounced up and down with rhythm and pride. A whole group of them joined in, hopping and chirping, heads bobbing, eyes locked on my most private part.
"Okay! Okay!" I groaned, backing up. "You're all definitely females. No male bird would twerk at another guy. Right?"
I paused. "What if you're not all females? What if it's a mix?" I gasped and grabbed a wheat stalk to cover myself.
"No, no. I am not seducing woodland wildlife! I'm straight! Straight! I have a woman. Vanessa! She's hot, she's got legs for days, and she doesn't twerk without reason!"
I turned in a circle, stalk in hand like a sword, yelling at the birds, "My Vanessa is the definition of beauty! Compared to her, you feathered freaks look like wet laundry!"
The birds chirped something that sounded a lot like mocking laughter.
I groaned. "This is my life now. Naked, chased by horny birds, defending my sexuality to a flock of flying perverts. Perfect."
But most importantly. Where was I? And when was I?