Mark hated taking medicine. It always did something funky to his system and he either ended up doing something incredibly stupid or having an incredibly stupid dream. So, to try and not go through those things, he would try to no avail to act as if nothing was wrong. But, in the end, someone, usually Maureen, would force a pill down his throat and he would indeed do something he would regret, if he could remember it. And if he couldn't, they always would.
Today was no different. Having a headache that was so strong it could break an anvil in half, and his nose was running like a fountain, it was no surprise to have a pill forced down his throat a few minutes after Maureen came in and saw the state he was in.
Soon, he was deep in a slumber, the last thing he remembered was his glasses falling to the floor and praying that they didn't break.
He woke on the ground, it was snowing and he frowned. Looking around, he could have sworn, he had dropped his glasses, and had gone to sleep on the couch and not the ground. He shook his head, thinking that what he should really be worrying about was where he was. Standing, and shivering slightly, he took in his surroundings. Snow was falling at a rapid rate and there were woods surrounding him, all shrouded in the same white that covered everything else. Except for the black lamppost in the middle of the clearing, tilting his head to the side, he frowned, how could that be there? Stepping towards it, he pressed a hand to it, suddenly thinking of the scene from "A Christmas Story" where the boy presses his tongue to the pole and briefly thinking of doing the same himself to see if it would work when he heard something from behind him.
Turning around, he saw nothing but more trees and snow, frowning again, he turned back to inspect the pole when he heard it again. This time, he did see something, and the something saw him. Letting out a shriek that was most unlike him, Mark back straight into the pole, having it strike his spine and cause the thing he saw to yell in freight as well before hiding behind a tree.
Easing forward, he narrowed his eyes to look ahead before the other came out from the tree. Mark realized at once that he was half man from the waist up, and half goat from the waist down, carrying an umbrella and wearing a red muffler around his neck. Reaching up to his own scarf that was around his neck, he half-wondered where the man had gotten it before he shook the thought from his mind.
"Where am I?"
The goat-man looked appalled, "Narnia," he said, "Forgive me, but you are…?"
"Mark," He nodded, waving his hand about, "I'm Mark…What's Narnia?"
The goat-man, nodded to himself before leaning forward, "My name is Tumnus and you'll only be in here for a while, I'm afraid."
Frowning for the umpteenth time that day, or was it night, Mark looked around, "But why?"
Tumnus merely nodded and stepped back into the forest, "The medicine is wearing off and you'll no longer be in need of my services."
"Services? What—"
"Marky!"
Opening his eyes in a flash, he stared at Maureen, who was standing over him with a pout, "You fell asleep on me, I was telling you all about my new protest!"
"Tumnus," Mark muttered, and realized that this time, he didn't really mind taking the pill as much as he usually did. No, this time, he rather enjoyed that land of Narnia.