Sierra: ok I know it's been like forever since I've written one of these but I got bored

This idea has been in my head for months now and I finally pieced everything together so it makes more sense

So, uh. Enjoy?

Darkness encompassed all. A foul stench of charred metal hung in the air, making it hard to breathe. Crackling sounds of a soft fire were heard not too far away - now aware of all his senses, he awoke.

Where was he?

He abruptly sat up, immediately regretting doing so as a sharp pain shot through his sides. Despite this - and the adrenaline coursing through his veins - he tried to take in what he was seeing.

Smashed in buttons and shattered gears surrounded the shoddy seat he was in. What once might've seemed like a functioning control box now looked as though it had been bashed in completely. As his hesitant gaze traveled upward, he observed a dashboard, littered with shards of glass. He was in the cockpit of a plane.

His heart thudded harder every second that went by. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to surface some memory of what had happened to lead up to this, but the more he dug in his memory for the answers, the foggier it'd get; the more he'd panic.

Alright, first things first. Clearly, he had been in a crash. Sucking in a deep breath, he opened his eyes once more; that's when he noticed another empty seat, to the left of him. Had another been flying this thing with him? Did he even remember how to fly it? Not that it mattered anymore.

Well, if someone else had been in the plane with him, they must be dead and gone now. He was on his own. Just…where exactly had he crashed? He lunged forward, deciding it was time to remove himself from the wreckage. That same pain shot through him again, but he didn't let it restrict him; he leapt out of a hole where a door once had been, only to land face-first in snow. The young man heaved himself to his feet, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Mounds of plain, icy white stretched as far as his weak eyes could see… a hauntingly bland landscape.

What great luck. He slumped up against what was left of the plane, huffing for breath, when a grim thought crossed his mind. Was there really anything he could do at this point? He had crashed in the middle of nowhere, and on top of that, he had been injured. A bleak death seemed like the only option, and it would be a long and unpleasant wait for the stinging cold to sink in and take over. Acknowledging this, he shut his eyes. Fate couldn't be too good to any one person, could it?

How many hours had passed until he heard the soft crunch of snow underfoot, he did not know; but boy, did his heart leap when he did. His eyes shot open, and above him, atop a snow mound a few feet away, stood a small penguin.

"Skipper?" came her voice; the name rung in his ears with a certain familiarity. She sounded almost surprised to see him there. He got to his feet as she slid down the hill to meet him.

"You are alive!" She grabbed a hold of his shoulders, shaking him with enthusiasm. He winced, and taking note of this, she stopped and cleared her throat.

"I was certain you had died in the crash. You must have only been in a comatose state, huh?" She shook her head, smiling. "It was foolish of me not to realize that."

Skipper stared at the girl, both relieved and… confused. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

His question brought an almost shocked look to her face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't remember ever seeing you before." He stared at her carefully. She was about the same height as he was; curvy, and her eyes were an abnormal, almost stunning dark blue. Suddenly, he put two and two together. "Were you in the plane with me?"

Right after the question came out of his mouth, he realized that his hypothesis was highly unlikely. There was not one scratch on this girl! She was perfectly unscathed; not even a speck of engine grease touched her glossy feathers. This made Skipper all the more puzzled when she nodded and answered, "Yes, I was."

So many questions buzzed through his head. Who was she? How did he know her? Where were they? And… who was he?

Sensing his confusion, the girl nudged him to reassure him, and bring him back to reality. "You must have lost your memory in the crash…" she trailed off, quite unsure of what to do herself.

"So who are you?" Skipper snapped, surprising even himself with his suddenly hostile tone. But was he to blame for his frustration?

"Name's Sierra. I am your guide."

"And where the hell are we?"

"Antarctica. Dimension ED2."

Skipper blinked, taken aback by her last two words. "Whoah, what? Dimension?"

Sierra nodded, pausing to think to herself. "This… is not good. Look, come with me. I'll explain more once we get to Blowhole's base."

Although that name arose a certain uneasiness within him, Skipper felt he had to go. It was either go with the nice penguin and gather his memories back, or stay here and freeze. To Skipper, the former option seemed much nicer, so he nodded to her.

"Wait…" he stopped.

"What is it?"

"I can barely walk."

"I will carry you. Get on my back."

Did this scrawny girl even have the physical strength to carry him? Though doubtful (and somewhat embarrassed), he did as he was told, and was almost startled when lifted into the air by her, who seemed to be unfazed by his weight. She started forward, trekking through the snow, as Skipper held on and pondered his clouded past.

Sierra: Well... there's chapter one! Opinions? Should I continue? And I'm curious... who did YOU think it was going to be in the plane? :P

So leave a review I suppose..