A/N: The only interesting thing about this, is that it's the first time I've used the first person... let's see if this story even gets passed two chapters.


"So where we goin?"

It was the third time I had asked this question, and still the large fluffy bunnies carrying weapons and spouting odd curses at me refused to answer. They also took offense to being called rabbits, so bunnies seem like the better way to go. They fancy themselves hares, but I fancy not being forced to walk up a mountain, and they listen to me worse than I them.

Well, time to stop thinking about where I'm going. I figure I'll get that answer soon enough. Let's instead wonder why the hell I'm some sort of cat. Yes, with ears and tail and all. No, not like those creepy internet things... well, maybe.

Anyway, this morning I awoke to find my pillow had miraculously morphed into a tree. I've never known inanimate objects to evolve in such a way, and in my drowsy state, questioned why my pillow waited for me to have a hangover before transforming, instead of how it could do such a thing in the first place. My ear twitched in irritation, and then I realized my ears seemed a bit off. Grabbing hold of one, I also noticed that my hand seemed to have gained excessively long fingernails. Oh yes, and then the tail made it's presence known. At about this point I woke up more to wonder what in God's green Earth was going on.

I was in a full body of armor.

What.

I had to take it off using claws while a tail swished around behind me.

What.

Oh, and I'm a f*cking cat, apparently.

... Alright.

So, while I tried remembering what kind of drugs could've been used to spike my drink last night, I also decided to scan my surroundings. A wall of trees surrounded me, branches shading me from the sun. Thinking back on it, I'm surprised I didn't freak out more about being in a random woodland, when in my last state of consciousness I had been in a club in New York. Then again, I suppose waking up a different species does sort of take up most of your mind.

So, to spare you the boring details, I spent a while sitting there, pondering over my situation, and though I've forgotten the exact words I said then, I'm sure they were quite intelligent and displayed great confidence.

"Quit your blubberin', you great flea bag, wot!"

Yes, I know what you must be thinking. How exactly did I end up in England? To that, I'll answer with the same response I'd answer just about any other question you may ask. I have no idea.

"I said shut it! Wot in the blazes are you doin' out here! Is that your own armor you have strewn about all willy nilly?"

I finally snapped my attention away from my own body to that of the one speaking to me. I was already getting ready to tell whoever this woman was that I wasn't really a cat, when I noticed that I was getting ready to talk to a rabbit. Now, please realize that I was disoriented, I was in a new body, and I was going through extreme pressure while dealing with a probable hangover. I say this, because my first conversation with another individual in this new world I'm in might not seem too... profound.

"You're a rabbit."

This seemed to irritate the rabbit.

"Bugger off, you! I'm a hare of the Long Patrol, wot wot!"

"Listen, whatever. Ok. Talking rabbit. Cool. Just... where am I?"

The moody rabbit was at least kind enough to answer that one.

"You're in the Western part of Mossflower Wood."

"Ok. Alright. What country am I in?"

"Wot's a country?"

"Alrighty. Ok. You know what, I'm gonna just head out, I'll be taking that armor, and I'll get out of your hair."

"Not so fast, ya funny talking mongrel! You expect me to believe yor just here on leisure, while there's an army full o' bloody vermin sieging Salamandastron only a half a league away?"

"The Hell is a Salamandastron?"

Alright, so I was already getting prepared to just leave it and just say, 'Go ahead, take the armor, I don't care. Have a nice day, Miss Talking Hare.' Before I could say any of that, however, the blasted animal twirled her little spear around and thwacked me something good right on the side of the head. It hurt. It hurt quite a bit.

"Son of a b*tch, what the f*ck! Why the f*ck would you do that?"

"Yor coming with me, wot wot! Yor going to give us some information on yor liddle army's plans!"

"I'm not in an army, you stupid-"

A large blunt object collided with the back of my head before I could finish my insult. It was a good one, too, and I couldn't remember it when I awoke later. That saddens me the most. Anyway, I woke up about, oh I don't know, an hour later? Three hours later? Hard to tell, they had a bag of some sort over my head and I had a splitting headache. If you're wondering what the sum of hangover+head injury equals, allow me to fill you in with the brief answer.

Ooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Alright, so I believe we're all caught up. I'm trudging with two rabbits uphill while dealing with a lack of answers and a severe head pressure.

CRACK-A-BOOM!

Oh, and it sounds like a thunderstorm might be coming soon. And I didn't even say 'What else could go wrong?' or anything.

...

Today really sorta sucks.


A/N: What's this? TWO AUTHOR'S NOTES? Yeah, quick little thing here. If you're wondering why I'm starting another story when (not including this one) I've only completed half my stories, I'll answer.

For funsies. Next chapter of Sands, Noonvale, and maybe Hoofbasket in the works.