Memoirs of a Modern Adventurer

by ErnestTBass

The original has so much potential if it was written with at least a little sanity, so I gave it my best shot while also trying my hardest not to self-insert. I try to stick to the lore as much as I can, while adding some other stuff. This is a lot slower than most other stories in this genre. It's also the first draft, and subject to editing and retconning.

2. No Time to be Sheepish

Finally! I am given a voice at last! Took him long enough. When Richard informed me he was making a biography, he also told me I was as much a part of the story as he was, so therefore I can write my own sections. Now, you may be thinking, "Autriel, how can you possibly be creating this if you cannot type?" The answer is that Richard gave the machine the ability to hear. All I must do is speak into this fuzzy bulb and my words will last as long as there is someone to read them! He simply edits later. Intoxicating. Anyway, it's obvious that this was a new experience for me at the time. Richard calls my speech narcissistic, but either he doesn't recognize it, or refuses to just to bug me. Probably the latter because he just doesn't understand just how far he is looking upward to see me That's expected, because I'm not like most people. Then again, I'm not alone, because most people don't read stories of monstergirls. Congratulations reader, you aren't the average in that regard. If you put any effort into it, well done.

To be a dragon is a difficult experience. Not in the sense of survival of the fittest, for I am quite literally a flying and fire-breathing monster, capable of vast amounts of death and destruction. Combat is easy, and I can get whatever I want with minimal effort. No, It is the battle of the soul that is the most taxing. Unlike the others of my kind, dragons have retained a sense of sanity that would have made life much easier without. Ignorance is bliss. I told Richard how monstergirls require human men to reproduce and some of their own… unique ways of doing it. He called it parasitic. I couldn't disagree with him.

Even the humans have the saying, "Knowledge is power." But, knowledge is also potential pain. While our ability to record is limited, dragons are chroniclers. We know we were not always like this; These instinctively deranged engines of molestation, not unlike the depraved fantasies of a lonely writer. We were proud, elegant, and in control of ourselves. Before I arrived at Earth, I was the only one I knew who acknowledged this. I asked, was all that we were destined for? The elders didn't know and said to think of such things would only cause confusion. The humans we captured were even more ignorant. Asking questions only confused them.

I hated it. I hated every second of my miserable life there. My behavior was decided before I even knew how to speak. Every time we captured a human, I would fly as far as possible away. Screams of panic and howls of delight would echo down the mountain, until one would fall silent. Even when I writhed and shivered there, my own instincts doing their best to rip me in half, I couldn't go back because then I would have surrendered. I would have lost to whatever made us this way. I would have lost to "me". Failure was incomprehensible because I felt I would lose something I would never be able to get back. Rarely, a human would manage to defeat one of us and then they would both disappear. Was that my fate? To molest humans just out of angst, only to eventually become the willful slave of the one who defeated me in combat, regardless if I thought they were the most insufferable thing? I once saw one of my kind in that state. I wondered if, behind those glassy eyes, there was a soul begging to be freed. The others didn't ask themselves these questions. It was simpler.

After a while, I conceded that my behavior was just the way of things and the way that I was: Mother nature's disturbed wet dream. Occasionally a "representative" from the dark city would come to check up on how we were doing. I would be gone at that time and had to bribe others to come up with a story on how I was busy hunting men. I continued my spiral of self-loathing and that carried over to the rest of my kind. I considered attacking human women just to spite them. Either that, or simply cause as much destruction as possible until the human clans united and killed me. At least that would garner some respect.

Truth be told, I was on my way to attack a human fort after destroying a few farms when I noticed the terrain shimmer and change. Then, some idiot came along and broke my leg. That was a joke. I want to declare here that I cannot thank Richard enough. Somehow he "knocked some sense into me" as he says. I know there's more to him, because when I saw him at the tower, he glowed. It was like he projected this aura of… something. It almost seemed like an almost bottomless wellspring of energy. I do know that him hitting me was the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I don't say this out of some basic instinct, because I was finally, for the first time, free. At least, I hope.

I could go on, but mother I must pee go on Kreia you do not need me to help wait I didn't want to say that no delete all of that Richard Richard I made a mistake and it won't stop how do I make it stop mother I really require your gaze to go pee Kreia hold on to it Autriel what did you do.

(Kept because funny)

I also want to say here that when Richard said "Pack your things. I'm going to take you home" after the previous installment, I didn't know at the time, but it reinforces my belief of Peter Gabriel as an unrecognized prophet. The lyrics of Solsbury Hill almost perfectly predict (with some translation) the series of events after the tower encounter. Two other songs from him also predict the future, but they are private to me. Richard doesn't take it seriously and Gusoyn doesn't care".

So, for the first time in my life, I was intimidated. I met a man and was practically giddy with relief that I could approach it however I wished. For the first time, I met an equal and someone I could relate with, or at least carry on a meaningful conversation.

Back to me again. We rode down the mountain toward town. I could hear the occasional gunfire. One of the houses in the subdivision was on fire. We skirted around outside of town, making our way to the commercial area. First on the list of priorities was finding a better vehicle. We weren't going to be going very far on the ATV. Taking advantage of the apocalyptic situation, I figured it was best to simply steal something. I spotted an RV parked in one of those cookie-cutter house's driveway. The place seemed normal until we saw that one of the windows was missing on the north side. There was just a hole where the wall had been smashed in.

Autriel protested the idea of "scavenging", saying she was no "carrion-eater" and didn't take from the dead. I said the homeowner was nowhere nearby and clearly had abandoned the property. I was going to find the master bedroom and look for the keys to the RV. Autriel could take whatever she wanted. I didn't care as long as it was reasonable. She pondered a bit, then began looting a jewelry box after following me upstairs. I commented, "Greedy wyvern." Autriel corrected me, "I am no wyvern. I am a dragon. There's a difference." I asked what that was. "Wyvern's wings and upper arms are all one appendage. While they have greater flying endurance, they are limited by their lack of hands. In order to grasp, they must use their feet or teeth." I learned something that previously would have simply been trivia. Whoop-dee-doo.

I considered taking the plate off the RV, but that would probably draw more suspicion. It was one of those fancy ones where the sides can extend, so that was a plus. We stopped by a hardware store and got a siphon pump and some jerry cans there. I figured we'd need them since most gas stations wouldn't be operating. I filled the tanks and the RV's with empty cars nearby. We stopped by an empty grocery store and camping supply store for goods and only had to dodge monsters twice.

I really don't like to describe what the monsters were doing. I don't want to put it down, now that things are different and it might taint the perspective people have of them. The past is the past, and while we should never forget it, we shouldn't dwell on it too much. Everyone knows what they did when they pinned a person. I really can't make the "it was just their nature" argument either. Nothing anyone could have said would justify the screams. We drove south and didn't look back.

I'll be honest, the whole thing was highly suspicious to me. I mean come on, there's suddenly an influx of human/earth animal hybrids (with some mythical ones, too) running around. My first thought was aliens, my second was some kind of theoretical genetics experiment gone rogue (but that wouldn't explain why they were nationwide), and my third was some kind of "rough waters" in the multiverse and Earth bumped into somewhere else. This was way too hot to be real, if you consider being violated and/or torn to shreds hot.

Maybe it's some elaborate illusion created by my brain. Maybe I've unknowingly gone off the deep end and am running through the woods, stark naked, yelling at wildlife. I can't say I liked reality all that well, so why not go with what I see and embrace it? So, I decided I'm going to dive in headfirst, enjoy myself, and treat this situation with the seriousness it deserves.

After a little driving, we got out and I'll explain why in a bit. Autriel practically ran out the door (as fast as she could with the crutch) and started flying about. As I watched I noticed how she flew. The only birds around me when I grew up were songbirds. Those just simply beat their wings as fast as they could to fly. There was no style to it. That fit their paranoid and hyperactive personalities, though. Autriel didn't do this. Every beat was purposeful and intentional. It was peak efficiency and confidence, beating her wings as much as she needed and nothing more. She didn't fly to run because she feared nothing. It was like a casual stroll through a field, except she wanted a better view. As I absentmindedly stared, I thought to myself, "If this truly is just a bundle of illusions, then this is my favourite pack of lies I've been fed so far."

Now, to why she was flying. We had driven a few hours and my main goal was to get to a highway. Autriel spent the time inspecting the jewelry box's contents and then storing them one by one into a tupperware container. My commenting that nothing would rust in there excited her to no end. After a bit of that, she began complaining again on how the sausages were good(Don't get her wrong. She was very thankful.), but fresh meat would be appreciated. I said I would see what I could do.

We noticed a sheep farm and I thought this was a great opportunity for a lesson. I parked just outside the gate and gave Autriel the basics in firearm operation and safety. She said the thing was loud and she didn't need to rely on "fragile human weaponry". She could already delete any non-fireproof target at range and she only got more dangerous as she closed. A scattergun would be pointless. I said, "Look, just try it. You might find it satisfying and then we can try the hunting rifle." She asked how far that one shot and I responded, "as far as she could see" if she got good enough. She said she'd humor me.

By the time I finished teaching, it had started to rain. Now, I don't mind being rained on in the slightest. Only thing that stops me is if I had something on me that I don't want wet, like a wallet. I walked out of the RV with the clothes on me and the baseball bat. Don't know what I was planning on doing with it, probably only to serve as an example of Chekhov's Gun. The pasture had a large hill soon after the gate, making it impossible to see over the side. This was actually great for the homeowner because it gave a sense of privacy from the road and they'd never be bugged by headlights or car noises. Armchair real estate estimations aside, all it did for me at that moment was make me wonder where the sheep were. Autriel ascended and made a grunt. I wondered what she saw and reached the crest of the hill.

I saw a brief snippet of hell. Normally one would think of grass as green, but I was the deepest shade of red I'd ever seen. What was green smoldered in places. A pack of seven wolf-like creatures were chowing down on a sheep. I assume it was because I couldn't actually see it. There were other sheep, though most were only remnants. It was like they had spontaneously detonated, the only record were occasional pieces the demons hadn't bothered to eat yet. A hip bone, half a face, maybe an asscheek, were just a few of the things lying about the field. Three of the sheep they hadn't gotten to yet were just hiding in the garage, completely silent. Not that the garage door was open, it was simply nonexistent.

The house itself looked like a hurricane had its way with it and then decided to set it on fire for good measure on the way out. It wasn't currently in flames, but there were burn marks here and there. The front door was lying inside the front hedge. Claw marks covered it, but there was a massive hole in the middle, which suggested they grew tired of clawing the door, simply punched through, and ripped it off its hinges. The remnants of another exploded sheep were on the side of the house, like they had thought it'd be funny to fling a sheep at the wall and see how long it would take for it to turn into ground meat. Wool was everywhere like a twisted imitation of melting snow. The wind was behind me, so I couldn't smell anything.

They could smell me, though. Then, horror of horrors, one of them noticed me and made a noise to notify the others. They all paused from their mutton meal and stared at me. They weren't surprised that I was there because they knew long before I stepped foot onto the property. No, they were shocked that I had the stupidity to come within half a mile of them.

I also want to point out that they didn't just stare, they steamed. Any part of them that wasn't fur (the face and torso) wasn't very wet because the rain evaporated soon after a drop hit it. Almost forgot to mention that their eyebrows were also on fire. Just an inexplicable fact. The flames illuminated their amber eyes. Sure, they had female forms, same as everything else I'd seen, but I didn't particularly care at this moment. So, there they crouched, these black, bloodstained, fiery, hell beasts whose meal I had just interrupted.

I was well and thoroughly fucked.

These things were obviously top of the food chain, considering the absence of everything else alive in the field (except my stupid ass). Here was my train of thought at that moment: They're predators. Predators smell weakness. Can't show weakness, but probably already shit myself. Can't hide or run, so how can I assert myself? What I said next is what I think I said. Autriel says I did, but she might be just saying that to make me feel better.

"ATTENTION DOG-BITCHES! I AM RICHARD THE DICKHEARTED, LORD OF THE HOES. I CHALLENGE THE LEADER OF YOUR PACK FOR THE POSITION."

I was a little concerned here. While it is true, dragon's fire burns brightest, these hellhounds did not fear fire. They are fire, plain and simple. In retrospect, the weapon Richard gave me was the best choice. Like I said, fire was not an option, so the only other was melee, and that would be a fairly equal fight. Also, his choice of challenge was a good one as well. In a few seconds, he had removed the numbers factor from the battle. That doesn't change that it was still incredibly foolish, but I can't say he had other options.

After Richard uttered his war cry, I must admit, if I was only somewhat warm before, I was certainly boiling afterward. I'll let you interpret the metaphor.

Autriel took the initiative and fired the shotgun. Now, I knew her aim was going to be terrible, so that's why I didn't give her the rifle. That, and she could barely fit her claw into the trigger as it was. If that was rough, then moving the bolt would be like performing surgery. She had also forgotten almost everything I had taught her in less than two minutes. She remembered was to not point it at me, so she gets a point for that. The only thing accomplished was a broken window, but that made all windows on that side broken, so I guess it's the universe's weird sense of completeness at work. The noise made everyone flinch.

She also made the first-timer mistake of holding the stock under the elbow, so the unexpected recoil made it fly backwards and land on the top of the hill with a splat. Autriel said, "Whoops" and went to retrieve it.

She didn't say she was going to be firing. No "Excuse me, but I am about to pull the trigger. It would be recommended to plug your ears, for it is quite loud." Not even a "Die!". Just a deafening boom and I reflexively looked in her direction for a second.

One second was too long because the pack leader took the opportunity. By the time I looked back, she was already two-thirds of the way to me. The other third was spent bringing the bat up for whatever defense I could think of.

Beforehand, I had considered my brief fight with Autriel and thought there was no possible way I could have survived an ambush attack by something as large as her.

Pardon?

-as POWERFUL as her.

Thank you.

I think I'm a mix of cursed and blessed. As I've continued my journeys, I've realized that I'm often stuck to fighting in melee with what seems like dumb luck. That's the first part. The second part will be explained by Autriel and the newcomer, and that's the reason I stay in melee as most as I can. The more I live with monsters, the more I realize I can't "dehumanize" them enough to try and kill them. I don't want to. I felt as if their existence was just as sentient and legitimate as my own. Still, I'm absolutely terrified at this point.

The hellhound(how I'll refer to it from now on) lept off the ground with all fours, but fought with a weird mix of human and canine combat. After she got up close, she swiped with the left claw. Using the rest of the limbs to try and pin me. For some reason, I instinctively jumped before the claw hit, which grinded with a horrible noise on the metal bat. Don't know why I thought being off the ground would help at all. While I was pretty suspicious my strength was enhanced, my mass was not, and I was flung a few yards away. That fortunately surprised her and stopped her pin attempt.

I got out of the bloody grass and she was already in my face. Again, I put up a defense, but my problem wasn't strength, it was weight. She was trying to grapple me, but the force to break my defense would throw me. I was getting smacked around and it didn't matter if I parried. One of us had to come up with another plan first.

Autriel couldn't assist. I had called a challenge and only I would participate. That, and the other six hellhounds would leap up and dogpile(I'm funny) her before she could ascend to a safe height. Her only ranged attack was fire and that wouldn't do dick, so they both accepted a temporary truce as spectators. Back to the fight.

It's hard to act aggressive against something with flaming eyes and sadistic grin on its face. She never let up. If she wasn't attacking, she was thinking, and she was always doing both. She didn't even look mad. The hellhound was actually having a lovely time and gave off this mixture between a growl and a laugh. In a cocky move, she tried to push down the bat I was holding horizontally, leaned toward my face, and gave this obnoxiously smug and toothy smile. My eyes watered as the heat from her mouth dried them. I did what any sane man would obviously do and head butted her.

Now she was pissed. Her inability to break my defense was slightly confusing, but now I had broken hers. She wasn't growling anymore, now she was roaring. Weird thing to notice in the middle of combat, but the inside of her mouth actually glowed yellow, with an uncomfortable amount of pointy teeth around it. The memory of the next bit is both vivid and vague at the same time, so I'll try to dramatically ad-lib. I figured out how to divert the blows into either the ground or to dodge entirely. I swung a few times and realized I would have a tougher time with this than I would with Autriel. The dragon's hide was resistant to piercing, but this was a land animal and she was much better against blunt weapons.

The entire thing was like a gigantic run-on sentence. I blocked with two hands, so she chomped the grip of the bat and threw her neck upward, flinging me into the air, so I took advantage and kicked her under the chin, but her arms were free, so I received a blow to the stomach, knocking me flying backwards, but she let go of the bat, so I hit her in the shoulder on the way out.

No time for recovery. Her jaws were already locked on my left arm mid-air and she held on with the ferocity of, well, an enraged dog. She pinned my legs with hers, throwing me off balance. We both slammed into the ground, shifting her teeth and causing her to bite even harder. I cried out in pain, but mostly panic. I swung the bat one-handed into her side, leaned forward, and clamped my teeth onto her nose. That's what you were supposed to do with sharks and alligators, I think. I saw her eyes glass over and I pulled her nose as hard as I could.

The hound broke first, and I released, too. Her skin was already black, but I could see a bruise forming on her side. She screamed in infernal rage at this stupid human who not only wouldn't submit, but also had the audacity to strike back. She radiated heat, as if the sheer anger generated infrared rays. The wet ground under her paws hissed and gave off steam. I yelled back, waving my hurt arm in front of me, "Flesh wound, bitch!".

I don't know how long it lasted, but it felt like an hour. At one point, Autriel stopped hovering, landed, and just stared. The rest of the pack backed off to the sheep carcass and ate pieces of it like popcorn. The bat should have broken numerous times. The turf was so shredded that the red grass was gone in a circle around us. I was covered in topsoil and was just as dark as she was. Maybe there's some kind of metaphor in that.

I'll be honest, I was in a generally awful mood and it had been simmering for years, maybe decades. I had a jaded view of people and the establishment at large. The bad breakup was just the tipping point. I tend to have high standards and very few things tend to live up to them, but I feel like I'm just punching myself in the face with that. You know what? I'm not going to sugar-coat it. Everything just pissed me off. It was so frustrating and unfair that it could all just be so much better and it seemed so obvious to me, yet I was powerless to change it, so I ran away to a tower in the middle of the woods because I needed time to collect myself. No one was there to interfere with my own thoughts. Why couldn't people and their creations just be better? Was it an inability? Why should I lower my standards to make up for their lack of ability? Not having the will to do something wasn't a reason, it was just an excuse.

But, all of a sudden, a bunch of rape-fetishist schmucks kick in the dimensional door and everything is ripped a new one. Any hope of repair was gone. What little I liked, what little I cared about was stomped on by single-minded beings who didn't care. I would make them care.

To forgive is divine, but this rule doesn't always apply. To defy, to stand up and say, "No, I refuse to accept this, and I will do everything I can to change this." Here I am, performing one of the most basic of anime tropes of monologuing during a fight. I'm such a hypocrite because I get really annoyed when they do that. If this ever gets a documentary, I'm going to invest in the animation. I digress.

One of the best and most intimate ways to know someone is to fight them. I saw the same thing in my opponent. Someone, something, had wronged her. Life was naturally unfair, but it had dealt her a particularly bad hand fairly recently and she had been stewing with that fact for a while. She had been jostled out position, deemed "unacceptable", and practically thrown out of somewhere. Of course, I learned more later when she told me, but she was just putting places and names to events I already knew happened in that field. I had stupidly thrown myself into the ring, but suddenly found myself wanting to stay. I fought her because I understood her.

Hell, she probably wanted this at some deep level. Some living punching bag had walked up to her and said, "Fight me!" as loud as he could, threatening to take away what little she had left. She could finally vent all of that frustration and actually go head to head with someone for her reputation with no strings attached. I can't really explain how I knew this. Maybe it was her style. The hellhound's fury was as informative as a book.

But, force of will is always an even playing field, so this monster in front of me would know the determination of a human. I would not lose. I would get knocked down, but I'd get up again. Nothing would ever keep me down.

The terrain was to a point where both of us had tilled it in case the farmer wanted to plant anything there or use it as a mud fighting circle. We absolutely pummeled each other in the pouring rain. It was like fighting in a steam room. She had clawed my left leg and chest and my wounded arm was feeling funny. There were points where we would back off, increasing in frequency as the fight wore on, and just screamed at each other. Well, I screamed vulgarities, she just roared. Language be damned, we knew exactly what the other was saying. Then, we would get back into trying to tear each other apart.

If I'm dragging this on, it's to try and make a point on how long and brutal it felt. It eventually devolved as all extended fights do into just exchanging blows. I got tired of beating. She got tired of mauling. I got tired of blocking. It ended with one last burst of desperation from her, which I parried and returned with a lethargic blow to the head that made a hollow *thud*. She shakily stood there for a second, moaned, and fell backwards into the ground. The mud hissed.

The adrenaline depleted and sanity reasserted itself. I was wet, bloody, exhausted, but not cold. I didn't even have the strength to raise my arm in victory. I turned to Autriel and half-heartedly declared, "Yo Autriel. I did it", but I doubt anyone heard it above the rain. I thought to myself, "Damn, that fur looks real nice. Wonder what it would be like to have some." I promptly fell forward onto my face and figured this was a great place to take a nap.

I woke up in a comfy double size bed. I was in some kind of bedroom with yellow sheets and wallpaper. There were pictures of sailboats hanging on the wall. Sunlight came through a window and illuminated the bed. It reminded me of my grandmother's house. Then, I felt a burst of panic. Where was I? Whose house was this?

I turned my head to the left. Autriel was sitting in a wooden chair with a wicker backrest, except half of it was removed so she could stick her tail through it. She was in a deep sleep. I heard a sniff to my right and turned.

There was another bed to my right and it was also occupied. It was the hellhound I fought. She was awake and seemed upset. I said, "Morning."

She said, "It's gone."

"What?"

"I don't know, but I didn't think it was something I could lose. You took it."

I laid there for a bit, "If this is about the pack, I really don't want to be leader."

"No. That's not it. Either way, they won't accept it. You won and I lost. You're leader in title only. They'll fight among themselves for actual leader."

"Didn't want leadership anyway."

She laid there, confused. "Then, what do you want? Why fight me?"

"Don't know. It's probably some stupid reason. Maybe I didn't have a choice. As for what I want, I'd like some friends, someone to share this apocalyptic scenario"

"That's a stupid reason."

"I know, but it's a start."

"You're so desperate for comrades you go and attack the closest thing and hope they respond."

"Takes one to know one."

We both paused for a bit and then I said, "Everything hurts." I chuckled, then added, "Even hurts to laugh."

"Yeah and whose fault is that? The fool who stood on top of a hill in the rain and yelled at a pack."

"Got me there. You know, I don't mean any hard feelings."

"Oh we're beyond hard feelings. You take my leadership and my pride, which were all I had left. You even took something else from my soul that I can't even remember what it was. Now what? Am I gonna be a lone wolf now? Do expect me to follow you? Because that's not happening."

"No. I don't… I don't want anything from you. Hell, I want to thank you. I got a lot off my chest, whether you meant to or not. You… seem to have had the same."

"Yeah. Why not tell you? We were in a competition and I took responsibility of pack leader. Pack in last place was exiled. That… was us. It was idiotic. I hate them all."

"I'm sorry. What were you competing for?"

She moved upright, immediately regretted it, then laid back down. "I don't need your pity. The event was about who could collect the most men. We had bad luck."

"That shit sucks. Then what?"

"I swore revenge against the organizers, we roamed the forest, the trees changed, and we found a sheep farm."

"Oh yeah, we're still on the farm, right?"

"Smells like it."

"Welp, I'm going to get out and see if there's any cereal. Doubt you…"

"Hellhound."

"-hellhounds would go after the grains. You gonna get out?"

"I will in a while. We hellhounds-"

"-Heal quickly. Do you have a name?"

"Gusoyn. Many humans fear that name."

"Good for you. Gusoyn, from the bottom of my heart, I want to say: Thank you. You were the peak form of predator and the best fight I've ever had."

I hadn't noticed this, but her ears were shifted back, but they suddenly flipped forward, as if they suddenly had an interest in what was going on. She said, "thanks", leaned back, and stared at the ceiling.

Every part of me was sore and a quarter of my body was claw marks. My hair hurt. I got out of bed and shuffled toward the door in nothing but my underwear because I just didn't give enough of a shit.

I got into the doorway when I was suddenly grabbed by the shoulders by a pair of massive claws, spun around, and slammed into a wall. Oh, Autriel must have woken up. Might as well add another pain pancake to the stack.

"You're alive! I worried you would have bled on the ground, or you wounds would have been blighted! These hounds know nothing of care, so I cleaned you up and they put the both of you in bed to rest. I am… I am…"

She then carefully inspected me for damage, similar to how a jeweler looks for blemishes. It was genuinely heartfelt, but also felt like I was being inspected for an auction. She slammed the wall above my shoulders with her huge fists, destroying the sheetrock.

"Don't you ever, and I mean ever, put me through that much… I can't even put it into words."

"Fucking?"

"-fucking stress ever again. I just restarted my hoard and I don't need the most valuable thing in it damaged already. I cannot even comprehend how you thought it was a good idea."

Sarcastically, I said, "That really hits me right here. Thank you. I feel honored being in your hoard. I'll do my best to not 'break' myself."

Autriel didn't catch it, "You should be. I'm very picky. I only keep the shiniest things. Now, let's see if they missed a sheep. I'm hungry." She sauntered down the hallway.

I guess this was her way of showing relief. At the same time, I started considering her worries for me. As I crunched on the cereal and stared out the broken doorway, I wondered about futility.

Was it pointless to go on this trip back to my parents' house? Their phones wouldn't answer and I had no contacts back there. The optimist in me said they'd be fine. There are policies for this sort of thing. They were smart people and would find a shelter or otherwise safe place. All I had to do was find them in that area.

The nagging doubt whispered in my ear and said I knew that plan was flimsy. Nothing was certain. Instead, I was starting to befriend the very invaders causing this problem. By the time I made it home, would they even recognize me?

I have a confession and a realization to make. I was a lonely man, but I also know that humanity as a whole was too. We were the sole sapien owners of the planet, rivaled in wisdom by none. This is a very solitary existence and I believe humanity fills that gap with fiction to make up for that. Sitting around and saying, "You know, it'd be really cool if-", and then letting the conversation go on from there, escalating into a grand shared delusion that gives us some sense of wonder. If everyone pretends the same thing, it can turn into the deepest sense of understanding.

The desire for the world to be more than it is; the wish that there were things without explanation; the rejection of nature, it's all part of the thing that makes humanity unique. Nothing else can come close. Reality is the realest thing that will ever be, but everyone would rather be somewhere else.

It filled me with a mixture of giddiness and terror. I was happy to no longer be alone(despite the temperament of the new arrivals), but I was nearly overwhelmed with a feeling of loss of control. I now knew nothing. There were new rules and ways to be observed that perplexed me.

Enough of the philosophical pondering, you want more monstergirl shenanigans, don't you? Let's get on with it.

As I chewed, the rest of the pack wandered in. Hellhounds are not small, so they filled the kitchen with little room to spare. They all stared expectantly at me as I continued eating my cereal. The dead silent staring was getting awkward. I broke it and asked, "What?"

The tallest one said, "How is she?" I responded, "Think she's fine. We talked. I don't think any of you are going to follow me, but I'm fine with that."

Gusoyn came out from the bedroom, "But one must be the leader and I don't want to see my pack tear each other apart. As the strongest thing in the room(aside from the lizard out there), I think you should make a suggestion. They might listen."

I sat there, a little bit shocked. Then, I said, "All right. You there, tall one who spoke to me. Since I kicked your leader's ass, and since I'm only the leader on paper, I give you the title of 'first mate'." I got up, went to the RV, shuffled through my bag of books, and returned with the Government Manual for New Pirates.(A great book and worth the read). I grabbed a purse hanging on the wall, emptied the contents on the floor, and put the book in there. "If you can't read, head into town and kidnap someone who can. Also, find someone who can teach you how to hotwire a car or do it for you." I handed the purse to the tall one. She didn't take it, and it awkwardly dropped on the floor.

"The first mate isn't the pack leader, but she's got all the powers I do. That being said, roam where you will and maybe we'll meet again.", I explained. Tall one flicked the purse into the air with her toe/claw and caught it. She looked at Gusoyn and asked, "What about you?"

Gusoyn paused for a bit and said, "We made a deal. I will stay." There was another pause, as the rest of them looked at her with a mixture of emotions, none of them positive. Gusoyn herself seemed to be angry(probably a perpetual state for her) and tried to nonverbally explain herself. It wasn't working out too well. I crunched on the cereal and prepared for the entire kitchen to just burst into flames. The pack left, notably with the bag. I wished them happy trails. I asked Gusoyn, "When did we ever make a deal?" She grimaced, "You have something of mine and I'm going to get it back, no matter how long it takes. I'm not going with you because I want to and I'm absolutely not going to listen to any order." I threw my hands into the air, forgetting I still had a spoon in hand and flung milk onto the floor, "Fine. Keep your enemies closer. I think both of us are equally ready for a round two." Gusoyn snorted and walked outside.

I considered this a tense situation resolved and thought there could be no possible ramifications to it.

Highway 80 would never be the same.