Earth. I could smell moist earth, feel it as I twitched my fingers. At least they still worked. I took another breath, adding lungs to the Things – That – Still – Work list, as I slowly cracked my eye's open. Sunlight filtered through the tree canopy where I lay, making it not so blindingly bright as I opened my eye's.

Wait, sunlight?

Pushing myself up, I looked around, seeing trees, bushes and grass' thrive in warm summer air. Only, it shouldn't be summer. Things should be dead and half frozen in the last dregs of winter, the sun should be blocked by the pouring March rain I had been riding in, making it almost too cold to be bearable. Another thing was, these were not my woods. This place I was in, not only was it the wrong season, but the woods, the trees, seemed older. And quieter.

Granted, there were some birds fluttering around in the trees, singing to each other, along with a gentle wind rustling the leaves but that was it. I strained my ears for the sounds of nearby traffic. The ranch I worked at was right next to the highway, and only in the farthest corners of the property could you find silence as pure as this.

I was dreaming... Or in some kind of coma, I had to be. The last thing I could remember was falling through something in the ground. I must of hit my head. I reached up, feeling for a lump, but only finding hair tangled with mud on my head. Actually I was covered in the stuff, from my oilskin duster to my favorite riding boots, it was all covered in a layer of black mud. Smelly, gooey, black mud. Groaning slightly at the state I was in I stood, taking a more prolonged look at my surroundings.

My earlier assessment of this forest being old, seemed confirmed on second glance. The trees were big, tall and broad things, So unlike the trees to be found at my childhood home, or the woods on the ranch. Secondly, I seemed to be on some sort of plateau in the woods. Not too far from where I was laying there was a sharp drop off, with trees seeming to deify gravity by clinging to the side of it, only stopping near the bottom where a small river flowed.

Where the HELL was I?

You're having a dream remember? I told my self as I turned from the drop off, looking up through the trees at the sky. You're in a coma. Pretty soon the trees will start talking, or some naked guy will hop out and give you directions. At that last thought I glanced back down, warily looking around, peaking around some of the bigger trees for God-knows-what. Finding nothing I sighed to my self, looking down at my prized boots, the likes of which were still covered in the black earth poo. Scraping a gob of it off my arm, I held it closer in examination. It seemed almost clay-like in substance, but for it's inky color, not to mention it reeked. It smelled like the old mold and mildew, that grew in the dank and damp parts of abandoned buildings and sewers. The likes of which remind you of eerie caves deep in the earth that –

Wait I fell. I fell off my horse, then I fell through the ground. Through the ground. I remember the falling, then the lack of falling along with the lack of light and then... And then I was here.

Oh good Lord above I was Alice in Wonderland...

Its a dream, its a dream, its a dream, its a dream... I told my self as I dropped my goo filled hand and rising the other to my head as I slowly spun around, trying hard not to panic. I fell off Carmel and hit my head, I'm just having a dream. It'll all end soon, I just got to wake up. Flopping down on the ground I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, but stopping abruptly when pain lanced through my face. When the sudden pain subsided, I carefully touched my nose again, trying to figure out if it was broken or not. Finally I determined that it was not, and instead folded my hands in my lap.

This isn't a dream

"Alright," I mumbled quietly to my self "Time for a recap. Want to know why you're here, you gotta know where you were." so I shut my eyes, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm my self as I went back in to memory of earlier today.

We were missing a few cattle from the herd, four or five, the lot of which probably had formed there own little herd and broken off from the main group. William wanted them found and brought back to the barns, the freezing mid-march down pour was about to turn worse with threats of a severe storm coming this way. So I hopped on my cow pony, Carmel, and set out to find the lost buggers. The herd with the missing four had come from one of the farther pastures, a place where, yes, you could get away from the noise of the highway if you wanted to. IF that is, you could get over the creep factor.

A good hunk of the land on that part of the property was covered in craggy rock, along with big birch trees and pines that made the place seem as if it had been ripped from the Lord of the Rings. The lost cattle were obviously not in the field portion of this part of the land, so to the forest I went. It was dark in the forest, even with the leaves gone, the pines were able to block a lot of the gloomy day's light. The rain and the gloom made things difficult to navigate, even more so with tracking. Once in a while I'd catch sight of a cow hoof print, only to loose it on the rocky parts of the forest.

It was at some point while I was riding along one of the craggy ravines when I finally heard what I had been looking for; a grumpy sounding moo. It had echoed from one of the other ravines that lead off in to the forest again, so I turned Carmel down that path and let the gelding carefully pick his way over the slippery rocks. It was at a point where one side of the ravine had turned mostly in to dirt, but the other side was still towering rock when it happened. Thunder. At least that's the only thing I can describe it as. I hadn't seen a flash, I only heard the noise and to be fair to poor Carmel, it scared me shitless too.

My pony bolted, causing him to slip on the wet stone and stumble a bit, which threw me right in to the craggy rocks face first. That's why my face hurt, and that's why I fell. Still having some senses left I had rolled out of the way of Carmel's stomping hooves, but I hadn't looked WHERE I was rolling. The craggy rock had a small space giving just enough room that I could roll under it and out of danger. Or so I had thought. The space had hidden some sort of sinkhole. Some of the mud had given away under me, and before I could stop my self I slid in to it, along with more mud and small streams of rain water. All I can remember of the fall was how sacred I was, how terrified that I would die down in whatever depths this place had.

I couldn't see anything when I finally came to a stop. But I could hear things. I could hear more mud and water falling down after me, the sound of my own shuddering breath and then... Then there was the sound of something else... Something whispering.

That was the last thing I remember. After that I woke up, here, in the middle of no where. Scrunching up my nose I felt the pain there, it was an affirmation that no, this wasn't a dream. Saved me from pinching my self I suppose. Clearly something bizarre had happened, the most outlandish being teleportation. That's it, I've been teleported. Great, I thought next I'll be telling my self the aliens did it...

I stood up then, trying fruitlessly to brush off the seat of my duster (being impossible, since it was covered in the black goo.) just then, something shiny caught my eye. "Oh hey, you made it." I said as I went over to the object. It was the decorative charm I wore on my Aussie hat, a family trinket I found once that apparently belonged to my great, great grandfather. It seemed to be some sort of arrow head, but made of metal not stone, it was also in more of a teardrop shape, with little added hooks on the back end for attaching it to the arrow shaft.

Picking up my hat ( the likes of which was covered in the same black goo as I was,) I decided that sitting around here wasn't going to answer any questions, so I donned my hat and headed down to the river. While I had to be careful on the trek down, I wouldn't of called it hard. Never-the-less I was still drenched in sweat by the time I reached the bottom, but I suppose wearing winter clothing in the summer time will do that to you. Reaching the river I noticed it wasn't as deep as one might think, not at this spot anyway, coming up to a little above mid chest. I decided to take this opportunity to clean my self along with my cloths from the black ick that currently covered me.

I started with my duster, beginning to splash the water on it before giving up and simply dunking the entire thing in to the river. I followed suite with my boots, pants, flannel shirt, tank top and finally my hat. I let each article dry on large, near by rocks as I waded in to finally clean my skin. The water was surprisingly clean, it even smelled clean. I was sorely tempted to take a drink, but my better judgment made sure I kept my mouth closed as I dunked my head in to the river. I scrubbed my face and undid my medium length red-brown hair from its braid to rid my self of the black ooze. I felt a bit silly wading in the river in nothing but my underwear, ( I didn't have complete confidence I was alone. Getting caught in one's underwear is slightly less embarrassing then getting caught with out it.) but it did feel good to finally get the blackness off as well as cool down a bit in the summer heat.

I stretched out on a semi flat rock by my cloths to let my self sun dry, soaking in the warm sun rays that I didn't get to enjoy back at the ranch. I perhaps let an hour pass by before I went over to my cloths to see how their drying process was going, when I heard a voice echo from up steam. I immediately jumped in to my pants and tank top, pulling the top over my head just in time to witness a green dress float down the river. I paused in confusion for a moment, noticing a few more articles of clothing float along the river behind it.

"Oh Connor, I'm so sorry! That damn stray is such a menace!"

I heard an accented womans voice echo down the river, followed by splashing noises. Looking in the direction of the sounds, I saw a woman dressed in an old fashioned dress complete with a bonnet. She stood on the river bank, while a man dressed in a white-ish coat, waded out in to the river retrieving several articles of clothing from the water. I wasn't sure how or why so much of the womans cloths had made it in to the river, but what I did know was that man was not going to be able to save them all. So I jumped in, going after the dress that first caught my eye, along with rescuing a few shirts and two pairs of pants. That was all that seemed to have slipped out of the mans grasp, seeing as he had gone back to shore. He unloaded his catch in to a large basket the woman had, before they made their way over to me as I myself had just reached the opposite side of the river.

" I hope I didn't miss anything."

I said to them when they came with in talking distance, holding out the sopping cloths to the woman as she drew near.

"Oh, thank you lassie!" the woman chirped as she held out the basket, giving me a relieved look. "I thought Terry's favorite trousers were gone for good!" I smiled at her as I put the dripping cloths in to the basket with the others. The two individuals were dressed a little strangely, the man more so then the woman. While the woman wore an old fashioned green dress, complete with an apron that had clearly seen plenty of uses, and a bonnet with pretty lacy trim, the man was an entirely different story.

He wore an off-white coat that was accented with blue trim, along with moccasins and leather chaps that came clear up to his mid thighs. He was also bristling with weapons. On his back was strapped a quiver of arrows along with a bow, a wicked looking tomahawk was slung on his hip, along with what looked like an old flint lock pistol and of all things a sword was strapped to his other hip. Who carry's a sword around now-a-days? I thought to my self as I noticed the man staring at me as well. To be frank, I had been staring at him for a little longer then necessary, he was what I would qualify as "a looker". His skin tone was a deep coppery color, and his eye's were dark brown. His hair was glossy black with some of it pulled back in to a small pony tail, save for a single small braid decorated with a few beads. Tearing my eye's off the man I looked back over to the woman, extending my hand to her in greeting,

"You're very much welcome ma'am, name's Almira by the way." I nodded with a smile at her as she took my hand and gave it a light shake.

"Almira, such a nice name! I'm Diana and this is Connor." The woman (I think she was Irish, if I could go by her accent.) gestured to the man who stood beside her, who extended his own hand with a friendly nod of his head.

"What brings you to Davenport?" He asked me after we shook hands. I sheepishly glanced back across the river to where the rest of my things laid out on the rocks, then to the hill I had climbed down to get there.

"Well, I was just about to ask you about that," I said as I looked back to them, "You see, I'm a bit lost." I shrugged not really knowing how to tell them; Yeah, I woke up on that hill just over there covered in this weird goo and last thing I remember, is it being winter time and now it's summer... none of you saw me in my underwear right?

Yeah... that would go over well.

The man – Connor – nodded in understanding as he responded to me, "You are in Massachusetts, in the Davenport homestead." Ok, Massachusetts. At least I was still in the States, never heard of Davenport though. Alright, I suppose it's time to ask the kicker question;

"What's today's date, if I might ask?" I inquired as I cocked my head to one side. Diana and Connor exchanged a slightly confused look before Connor answered me again.

"It is September 12th, 1773."

...Wait, what?