Yeah, really, really short chapter. Normally my chapters aren't less than 3,000 words, but this one will be the first. Lucky you for getting such light reading.
I didn't get that much sleep, however. In fact, I barely dozed off. All of the excitement from my first few moments had my blood flowing and muscles twitching for more, eager for adventure. To no avail, I tried to ease the twitches by thinking soothing thoughts, but nothing worked. I had nearly lost my life in the first few moments I was here and began to wonder if I had been too hasty in leaving my comfortable life back home. Sure it was a little mainstream, but at least when I was home I didn't have to worry about being killed.
Fishing through my bag, I pulled out the locket with a picture of the family I had left behind and stared at their faces in turn. I suddenly began to become aware of just how empty and alone I felt now that they were no longer with me. Curling up on my side, I cradled the locket in my hand and allowed my eyes to slip closed. If I was going to find any sanctuary in this strange and dangerous land, it would be in my dreams.
A new element was suddenly added to the scene. An element that can be described as multi-colored, armor/muscle, Thumbelina-height people that I had come to know as Matoran. Le-Matoran, to be specific, a tree-faring people native to Le-Wahi.
I cracked open my eyes upon hearing a few shuffling noises close to my ear and snapped open my eyes to see the strange little green people rummaging through my duffle bag. Their large gray hands were pouring over my belongings, gutting the bag of its contents until it was all spilled upon the ground. Our eyes met, the Matoran and mine, but it didn't last long.
"Hey!" I yelped as I jumped to my feet. The earth was moist and cold on my bare soles, the only comfort I had after encountering the Ash Bear. "What're you doing?"The Matoran jumped back and clutched my belongings in their oversized hands as if they were valuable relics. "That's my stuff!"
"Scatter!" one Le-Matoran cried and they all dispersed, scattering into the line of tress for cover.
Only one remained, who held both my shoes in his hands. He must have stolen them right off my feet while I was dozing, I reasoned, and glowered hard at him, holding out my palm. "Give me those, now." I made the mistake of taking one step forward, which resulted in him taking off into the woods, shoes and all.
"Wait!" I called after him, making a point to gather what was left of my life into the duffle bag before taking off after him. "You got my shoes!"
I took off after him, but I soon collapsed to my knees, finally coming to terms with the wounds on the backs of my legs. I had forgotten about them when I stepped into the river to ditch the Ash Bear. My hands gripped the marshy ground until the pain subsided and looked back at the direction in which the Matoran has run. I balled my hand into a fist and steeled myself, gathering fistfuls of muddy earth in my palms. If I wanted my shoes back, I couldn't let a little thing like injuries stop me. Biting my lip, I braced myself for the imminent agony and jogged after him, an occasional cry escaping me every time I couldn't take the pain in my legs. I made it a little over a mile through the jungle before giving in and resting against a tree.
I took in huge gulps of breath and took the liberty of rubbing some spit on the backs of my legs to help soothe the pain. My feet hurt a little more than my legs from tripping over rocks and roots and were freezing from being exposed to the mud for so long. I remember that before this break I had to pick a thorn from one of them. I used to run on the sidewalk barefoot and pick up bits of concrete as I ran, but it does not - repeat not - come close to have mud and gunk getting plastered on your feet.
I paused as I remembered my portable music player in my bag. I had always improved whatever I was doing if I had some music to listen to. I slid it off my back and rummaged through its contents - it took me a while because of the obscene amounts of stuff I had packed in there. Finally, I pulled it out and fitted the white earplugs in. I didn't waste time picking a song, but just hit the "play" button and ran to it, a new vigor in my step. The Matoran's not going to get far! I thought with a determined grin.
It didn't take me that long to pick up the path the Matoran took. A path of sorts had been laid down in footprints and it was easy to pick out the Matoran's large, blocky prints.
Or so I thought.
I stopped and knelt down to the marshy ground. There was another set of prints, but not the chunky shape of armored feet. No, these prints had a more curved line to them with imprinted patterns, much like the curves one would find on the bottom of sneakers.
My mind reeled with what the discovery could mean. Nah couldn't be! I thought. Looking at them again, I pressed my fingertips into the mud to see if they were real and gave a nod as the grooves touched the pads of my fingers. Maybe so. I rose and put on extra speed, excited that maybe, just maybe - There's another human here!
This new discovery recharged some of my energy and I took off at full speed, not stopping until I came to a clearing within the line of trees. I wasn't prepared for what I saw and I couldn't help but beam as my eyes rested upon another human - a boy, to be exact.
The boy was trying to get my shoes away from the little green Matoran, but to no avail. The Matoran was dodging under his legs and darting all over, keeping out of reach in any way he could. Unable to catch him, the boy quickly grew frustrated and thusly his moves became sloppier and less coordinated until he wasn't even coming close within reaching the thief.
I made my way to a nearby clump of ferns and crouched low behind them, keeping my eyes just a few centimeters above the leaves. Even if there was another human, he was still a stranger and it wasn't a very good idea to trust strangers. I couldn't rely on the boy forever to catch my sneakers for me, so I waited for the right moment to catch the Matoran, hoping that he would come within arm's reach of me. Luck was on my side as the thief raced by me and I pounced.
"Gotcha!" I yelped, vaulting over the ferns and falling into a scuffling heap with the Matoran. Caught off guard, he was stunned to attack initially, but came back to throw wild punches and kicks, all the while holding my sneakers out of reach. I ignored the strong thrusts - and that Matoran could punch hard - and reached for the shoes, focusing all of my attention on gaining back what was mine. I was so close, my fingertips just grazing the grimy and broken laces, when the Matoran gave a powerful kick to my stomach, effectively knocking in the wind out of me. My eyes widened and I fell back into the mud, clutching my wounded gut with both hands, desperately trying to regain any form of breath I could.
The boy rushed over to my side, calling out to me in concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.
Still reeling from the attack, I could barely form any coherent reply beyond a strained grunt. My insides hurt as if they had been burned and I was certain a bruise would form the next morning.
Growling, the boy resumed the fight for me, raising a fist to strike down the Matoran. They tangled, pulling, pushing, clawing and hitting, each one trying to get the upper hand.
Once I recovered, I quickly joined in the fight, not allowing some strange boy take on my battle. I shoved him aside, and waged war with the Matoran myself, fully intent on paying him back for the strike to my throbbing stomach.
I barely managed to land a few blows when a strong hand gripped the back of my shirt, pulling me off the Matoran and - lifting me into the air?
"Why all the attack-fight?" asked a tall and equally green figure who held the Matoran and me at arm's length. His glowing red-orange eyes flicked between us expectantly, awaiting an answer.
"It wasn't my fault, Toa Lewa!" the Matoran cried. "It was that thing's fault!" He pointed a thick finger at me. "I was minding my business and it attacked me!
Once again, I could feel the burning return to me, only not as strong this time. "Who in the world are you calling 'it'?" I retorted, deeply offended. "I didn't just attack you, you stole my shoes!" I pointed to the pair of sneakers still clutched in the Matoran's hand. "Ask that guy!" I pointed over to the boy who was recovering from his injuries. "He can tell ya! Wasn't I going to get my shoes when this guy attacked me?" I thumbed towards the thief.
"Yeah," he said, looking at the Toa. "It was all the Matoran's fault. I saw him running with a pair of shoes and so I knew her must have taken them from somebody."
"All lies!" the Matoran cried.
The trees erupted with a flurry of voices arguing over who was telling the truth and who was lying, each accusation mixing together into a painful symphony unpleasant to the ear. It went on for a few seconds before Toa Lewa silenced us.
"Enough quarrel-fight," he commanded. "It's easy to see who is truth-telling and who is lie-speaking."
Letting me and the Matoran down, forcing the villager to give me back my shoes. I snatched them fro his hands and hastily tugged them on, glad to have something solid encasing my feet.
"You two are human?" Lewa asked the boy and me.
"Yeah," the boy confirmed and I nodded as well. "We came from another world."
"How?" he asked. "Unless humans can time-warp."
"You've been watching too much science-fiction," I muttered.
"My home was ransacked by Rahkshi and a Makuta," the boy said, ignoring me. "I came here via tunnel that led to a portal that dropped me here. Though I think I've become lost since then."
"And you?" Lewa asked me.
"I was walking home from eating ramen, got attacked by a Makuta, and Frosty the Snowman saved my hide," I recounted bluntly, trying to get used to wearing shoes again.
"Ice-brother?" Lewa asked. He returned his attention back to the boy. "Who helped you here?"
"An imposter," he said. "Of Toa Onua.
Toa Lewa sucked in a breath of air and let it out slowly. "Imposter-fraud, you say? Of earth-brother Onua?"
"Why must you keep talking like that?" I asked impatiently. Will he just let go already?
"Tree-speak, human," the Matoran stated. "Native language-tongue of Le-Wahi."
"Dually noted," I replied under my breath.
"Yeah," the boy said again. "Do you know who might be impersonating him?"
"No," Lewa admitted with a shake of his green head. "But maybe I know someone who does. We make for Ta-Koro."
The boy came over to stand beside me. He was about a head taller than me - then again most people are because I'm not the tallest thing in the world - and had similar characteristics to me in terms of hair and eye color: common brown, though my hair was more orange in color. He turned towards me.
"My name's Matt," he introduced with a small smile and extended a hand. "What's yours?"
A stared at his hand and reached out to take it, squeezing tightly to show I meant business. I wasn't going to let him do all the work for me like he did in that fight for my shoes. I could take care of myself. "Cheryl."
Chapter three down. I might be doing more edits the more I finish my hw early and just need something to eat up time and get my creative juices flowing again.