~Chapter 2~
Welcome to Middle Earth!
After riding at a slow trot like this for 40 minutes, not saying a word, I feel super awkward. Truthfully, I've felt awkward ever since he manhandled me into his saddle, but eventually, I clear my throat and ask, "You wouldn't happen to know what time it is, would you?"
The back of his hood angles upward as he glances at the sky, "It's almost noon." He mumbles, and I feel more than hear his voice rumble through his back. I notice that he didn't accidentally break character by trying to look at a watch or cellphone.
Oh, he's good.
"What? No watches or cellphones in medieval times?" I tease, shaking my head at this ridiculousness. A sundial would be better.
He says nothing, but his back impossibly seems to tense tighter. I guess he's decided to ignore me when I mention technology.
"Ok, ok, sorry." I console sarcastically, wondering what the big deal is. "I get that you want to stay in character and everything, but I'm just trying to figure out how long I've been missing."
A few moments pass before he speaks again. "Are these your tracks?" I look down at where his hood is angled towards, the edge of the forest. I look carefully and sure enough, my sneakers have imprints there in the soft dirt from where I stumbled out of the trees. Pretty good eyesight for him to catch that, honestly.
"Yes! This is where I came out of the forest. I walked for about an hour from the west, I was following the sun. Thankfully, I came across the road. And then two hours in the wrong direction." I shake my head at my luck.
He doesn't reply but nudges the pony to continue. I decide to open up a little more, "I woke up this morning in a ditch in the woods at sunrise. I..I don't know if someone was trying to bury me and then got nervous so they left? But… it was a strange-looking hole. Like it had been dug, but not recently since I didn't see shovel marks. I was in a field, next to a small tree."
His silence is deafening, so I begin to ramble aloud to myself to fill the unnerving silence, "Honestly, what I want to know is how my kidnappers managed to get me? I don't remember being taken. And the fact that the trees and landscape are different, not to mention the lack of cars in this area, can only mean that it took a while to get me out here and set this whole thing up. I haven't the faintest idea where I am." I pause, hoping to catch any sort of indication that he knows something.
After a moment, he at last speaks. "I spoke the truth when I said you are just outside the Far Downs of the Shire, south of the White Downs.", his head angles to the side so I can hear him better, even though his hood continues to hide his face from me. His voice turns firm. "I shall leave you at Michel Delving, and you should be able to find accommodations there."
I roll my eyes, "The Shire. Yes, and I'm the Queen of England."
He turns around in his seat to glance at me from under his hood, acting surprised, "Truly? You're a queen?"
"But of course!" I smirk at him and pat his shoulder playfully, realizing that he must be teasing me, "Did I not mention that I was kidnapped from Buckingham Palace? I best be getting home so I can have tea and crumpets with the President of the United States. Oh wait, no, we're in the Shire? I meant to say that I'm the Queen of the Elves and I have an important meeting with uh…umm…who's important in Middle Earth again?"
"You mock me but I don't understand why." The guy glowers at me, clearly upset. "If you mean to jest then you're certainly no comedian."
I'm taken aback for a moment. I thought he was being sarcastic like I was. "Well, everyone's a critic," I mutter to myself. "And I have my comedic moments, thank you very much! I just don't feel like popping funny jokes while riding horseback with a strange man to who knows where!"
"I do not understand you," the dwarf man growls, "And I told you we are going to Michel Delving. I will not repeat myself."
"Michel Delving." I taste the name on my tongue. It is a strange name. "Does this town have service there?"
"Service?" He asks.
"Yeah, for me to call someone?"
"Call someone?" He asks again.
"Are you a broken record? YES! Call someone!" I glare at him, annoyed. "How else am I going to get in touch with my family?"
"So you DO have kin nearby." He turns back to face the front, his voice smug.
I scowl at the 'I caught your lie' smirk I can hear on his stupid face.
"No. I need to call them with THIS!" I reach into my jean pocket and take out my cell phone, waving it at the side of his face in peripherals, so he can see.
"Ooooh! Maaaagiiiiic!" I taunt, showing him that his fantasy is just that. A stupid fantasy.
He turns to look at it, but when he sees it, confusion ensues. His hand quickly reaches up to grip my wrist despite my shriek of disapproval. I can't see his face, but he is just staring at the cell phone.
Bad idea. I shouldn't have stopped playing his little game.
"Stop! Let me go!" I frantically plead as the idea that he IS my kidnapper resurfaces. He might take my cellphone and I'll never be heard from again. I try and yank my hand back but like I imagined, he's very strong. That, and I have no upper arm strength. Like none. It's a dream of mine to one day do one pull-up. Just one.
He turns halfway in his seat so I can fully see his face, his dark beard dominating most of it. "What is this?" He asks, confused. I stare at him for a moment but when I roll my eyes for what seems like the millionth time, he growls at the disrespect and his grip on my wrist slightly increases, "I do not understand these riddles you speak, woman! What scenario do you believe to be at work here?" He indicates the wrist he is holding in his warm hand.
I open and close my mouth several times in shocked confusion, turning red. It is so strange that he seems so sincere... as if I am the crazy one. It throws me off, which also makes me annoyed and confused that I can't seem to say anything at the moment.
His voice impossibly turns even gruffer, "Are you suffering from an injury to your head that has disoriented you? Or are you simply mad?"
He waits for me to respond, and I eventually look away from his distracting face and mumble, "Forget it. There's no use reasoning with you. Please just take me to Michel Delving."
He says nothing, watching me. When he speaks again, his voice is calmer, "You appear in the middle of the woods walking away from town, you insult me, you speak of strange unheard of places with confusing words and an odd accent. Your clothes are unlike any I have ever seen. It is clear you are in some sort of trouble and…despite my better judgement, I…I wish to help you. But I am unsure how." His eyes seem honest and a little flustered by the fact that, despite his reservations about my mental state and 'human' status, he wants to help me anyway.
I sigh, but decide to play along with his game because his anger is scary. Maybe he's Amish and he truly doesn't know what a cellphone is? If so…then that's just sad. The dude is at least 30 years old. Probably 40 with those silver streaks in his beautiful L'Oréal hair. How would the Amish know what cosplaying is though?
"It is a cellphone." With all my effort I manage to not roll my eyes this time, but I can't help the patronizing tone leaking into my voice, "An object that allows me to communicate with people long distance. Call it magic, if you will." There. Happy? Middle Earth has magic, so it fits in.
"Why do you not contact your family then?"
I blink as I look at this man. REALLY look at him. He doesn't look convinced, and genuinely seems confused by the cell phone. I can see it in his eyes and I feel a cold flash of anxiety electrocute my heart. What if...
It quickly passes as I remind myself that the man is mental and I can't trust a single word he says.
"I don't have a signal." I reply softly, "It's…the connection of the cellphone that allows me to contact people. Out here…I don't have 'service'."
My throat turns dry as I notice how close his face is to mine, the pony not letting us have much space between us. His nose is so straight it could cut something. His blue eyes make my heart palpitate.
He pauses, closing his mouth from whatever he was about to say, perhaps noticing how close we are as well. I watch his eyes roam over my face taking in the details. He turns back towards the front abruptly and nudges his pony to continue on. I let out a soft breath, breathing easier now. What just happened? Did I just have 'a moment' with this crazy dwarf cosplayer? My face burns and I wish I could just bury myself in the hole I woke up in. Why am I so socially inept? I should have just taken my chances with walking to Michel Delving in my cold squishy shoes.
We thankfully don't speak again for a long time.
Eventually, the trees become more and more sparse as more clearings appear and a few corners of houses can be seen hidden off the road with dirt paths leading to them. It all feels so homey and quant!
A huge unspoken burden falls off my back as I finally see another living being for the second time that day. A child is walking with a rope around the neck of a very large black and white pig! The back of his head is full of golden curly hair and he's barefoot, his brown pants cutting off mid-calf in a comfortable fashion as he leads the animal along the road in the same direction we are going.
A feeling of foreboding fills my stomach as our horse-pony gets closer to him and I study the strange style of his clothes from behind. Reminds me of Europe in the 1800s, or something like that. Kinda like the guy sitting in front of me…
As we pass him by he looks up at us and my blood turns a sharp cold in my veins. It's no child at all. It's a short adult man. Shorter than even me and Mr. Sword, here. And he's barefoot. With abnormally large…hairy…feet…
The man's face, which was initially friendly and open, turns to a bewildered and worried expression as we pass by him.
I realize it's because my face is frozen in shocked disbelief and I'm just staring at him with comically wide eyes and parted lips. I swallow and look away blinking, my eyes still wide.
I face towards the front and look at the back of the hooded head of the man sitting between my legs. I clear my throat, "Wow! Did you see how much hair that short guy had on his feet? I mean, hah, what is up with all these short people in this area, am I right?" I laugh nervously,"I mean, you, me, and now that guy we just passed? I'll fit right in here, hah!" My voice sounds a bit shrill and I try to clear it.
"You are quite short for a human woman." He agrees with a rumble. "And hobbits are notorious for their hairy feet."
"Haha. Hobbit, right." I laugh, but my voice sounds funny to my ears. I glance back at the man with the pig. "First a dwarf and now a hobbit. Are we on our way to a Lord of the Rings convention or something? I would have gotten dressed up in an Arwen costume if someone had told me about it. Not that I have one, but I could have ordered it off Amazon. I have a fairy costume which might work though…"
Was I kidnapped for this? Odd to leave me stranded in a field far from town with no instructions if that was the case. This is the weirdest college prank I've ever heard of. I glance around us for any hidden cameras.
"Again with your foolish riddles." He mutters, and I see a shake of his hood. I shake my head at him as well and heave a sigh. This guy is impossible.
More small houses begin to appear a bit away from the road, smoke rising from the chimneys. And the faint bleating of sheep and other livestock reaches my ears. Soon, I hear the rumble of voices and we arrive at a fork in the road with a road that seems to go through town and a road that seems to go around it. I can see the tips of buildings down one road through the trees.
"This is Michel Delving." He says, nodding towards the road with the rooftops. "It's the largest hobbit settlement in the Shire." A low murmur of many voices can be heard coming from that direction. Must be where the Lord of the Rings Convention is.
"Great! Honestly, I can go on my own from here. I really appreciate you helping me arrive!" I give him a thankful pat on his broad, cloaked shoulder. I'm sure he's as eager to be away from me as I am of him.
He silently stares at the fork in front of him for a while. Is he waiting for me to get off? I start shifting behind him, to try and swing my leg over when he stops me with a hand on my knee to stop my movement, "Wait."
I pause. When he touched my knee, it felt like my insides had been zapped by electricity and I had instantly stilled. I had become very aware of him between my legs and I swallowed. Damn, my college student hormones! Strange and delusional cosplaying men are soooo not my thing. I prefer good, hardworking men who are very down to earth.
"I am… traveling to Bree. It is the nearest human town and is about four days across the Shire by pony. I know I said I would leave you at the nearest village but, to my knowledge, only hobbits live here. I can take you to Bree so you can be among your own kind." He speaks unwillingly as if he is mentally hitting himself repeatedly in the head for even offering. He sounds like he's going against his better judgment by suggesting I remain with him.
I give a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh. Four days with this strange man would be four days of torture, pressed deliciously into his backside. Or maybe we would switch positions?
Woah girl! Just get off the damn horse already!
"That's ok, buddy, I can take it from here." My voice is higher than normal, hysterical again.
I give a tiny pathetic hug of appreciation on his back, and he stiffens up like he turned into a pillar of stone. I smile to myself at his reaction and then lift up my leg over the pony. I feel stiff after riding for two straight hours though and I make unladylike groans and grumbles to match my stiff joints. He turns back into a living being at the sounds of pain I make and, in a surprisingly kind gesture, he gently takes my hand in his own and helps swing me around, and lowers me down. It seems as easy for him as when had lifted me up single-handedly. He doesn't make a single grunt at my entire body weight dangling on his arm.
"Wow. Your arms are incredibly strong!" I chuckle embarrassed as I try to stomp some blood into my legs again. I'm able to see his handsome face for the second time since riding and a small smile comes on his lips before he looks away so I can't see it. He seems annoyed with himself for letting me catch him off guard and make him unwillingly smile.
I grin up at him and the thought comes to mind that since I'm never going to see him again, I should just YOLO this experience and blurt out something like 'You're hot! Wanna exchange phone numbers? I'll wear a Renaissance dress next time?' But, of course, I don't. We just barely reached a dignified and cordial moment between us. We should part on this good note. Besides, he doesn't even have a cell phone. Maybe an email? No, the Amish don't use those either. Maybe a mailing address?
He seems hesitant to go separate ways as well, as if he isn't sure he should actually leave me all alone after all. "Perhaps it would be better that I accompany you into town? That way you find lodgings and perhaps someone who can help you contact your family?" He seems at war with himself, part of him not wanting to help me, but the other part wanting to.
I look up at his handsome face. Tempting…. But no, I really need to get away from this guy and find help from someone with no funny medieval business. Gaslighting someone is a very big red flag in a relationship, which means that this handsome heartbreaker is a BIG no-no. I hope I never see him again, to be honest. It's such a waste for a man as handsome as he is to be this delusional. So sad.
"Thank you but once I find a phone I know someone will pick me up in a few hours. I'll probably take a bus or something and have my family wire me the money." I say, hoping he gets the hint that I don't date delusional people.
He gives me his confused frown again. I roll my eyes and translate it into Middle Earthen for him, "I'll be fine."
His glare tells me he wants to disagree but he finally nods, saying, "Very well. But….in the square, next to the statue of King Argeleb II is an Inn called the Boar's Head. Should you be unable to find a… phone… mention the name Thorin Oakenshield to them and they will cover the expenses.
"Thorin Oakenshield?" I grin widely. "You're cosplaying as Thorin Oakenshield? Sorry, but you don't look the part. You're too young and handsome."
The full-grown man actually blushes. A slight pink flushes his cheeks. "You think I'm supposed to be old?" He tries to look annoyed at my flattery and I can tell he's not used to women outright hitting on him. His Amish cult must be really small.
"Well, yeah, I mean Thorin Oakenshield is over 200 years old."
"Dwarves age differently than humans." He doesn't mean to, but he has a very faint smile on his face. He seems amused at me for some reason.
"Ah, of course," I smirk at him. The only Thorin Oakenshield I remember is the one from the 1977 cartoon. And he had grey hair and an enormous nose. Not at all like this sexy beast.
He stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head at my seemingly 'unwellness', "You're a very strange woman, milady." His blue eyes sparkle in amusement without him being aware of it. He gives a final nod in farewell and nudges his pony to go.
I feel a strange slither of panic in my stomach as I watch him and his pony get smaller, already feeling the loss of the warmth while I rode with them. Why am I nervous all of a sudden? Should I have insisted he take me the whole way into town after all?
But he's been a huge help already and I see the town from here. I turn towards the other dirt path leading to it and start walking. I turn to look once more in his direction and I'm elated to see that he turned to give me a final glance too before the trees cut off our view of each other. I smile to myself, feeling silly that we both looked back just like in the movies. I chuckle aloud and stretch out my cramped legs as I walk along. My pants aren't so wet anymore, the pony's warmth having semi-dried them, but I officially smell like a barnyard. And my shoes still have a slight annoying squish to them. I'm so glad I didn't have to walk in these shoes the whole time.
When I see people coming down the path in my direction, I stop walking. They are ALSO short people in strange clothes with big hairy feet. The nervous, worried feeling comes back…
"It's just a Lord of the Rings convention! Just a bunch of people who like cosplaying. A bunch of SHORT people who like cosplaying…" I begin to tremble.
The first 'hobbit' with the pig had curly hair covering his ears, but these people walking towards me have pointy ears peeking out from their curly hair and look very real. Like a professional film artist did them. Even the small child walking with them has pointy ears! And those feet…
A movie crew must be nearby. Maybe I've actually stumbled upon a film set for a new Lord of the Ring movie? Like, live-action? The thought actually makes me a little excited.
I walk faster, hoping to find some normal, tall people dressed in normal 2022 clothes somewhere with some film equipment next to a movie star trailer.
I am aware of the shocked stares of those that I pass by. My smile trembles on my face as I struggle to keep it in place.
I reach the entrance to the village and my face drops into an expression of horror. The buildings have architecture like you wouldn't find anywhere on Earth. All the doors on the main street are round and painted different colors with round windows on the buildings. It doesn't look anything like the Shire in the cartoon or book. It's a huge town rather than a village surrounded by green rolling hills.
But that isn't the horrible part.
There are Hobbits. Everywhere.
Dozens of them. Laughing, talking, buying, arguing….and not a cameraman or movie producer in site. No posters with news of a festival. Not a single modern gizmo or gadget in sight. No baseball caps or jeans. No telephone or electric wires hanging overhead. It feels like I literally stepped into a medieval fantasy JR Tolkien painting.
But the most alarming thing? There are no tall people. Except maybe me. But even then, I'm only about a head taller than they are.
The further I wander into the town, the more of them there are. Hobbit fathers, hobbit mothers, hobbit children, hobbit butchers, hobbit bakers….hobbits maidens, hobbit lads everywhere. They seem to be going about their normal daily business until they see me. And then they stop whatever they are doing to stare in shock. My pink university hoodie and jeans stick out like a sore thumb among all the brown, green, cream, and tan colors of the local's clothing.
"Excuse me," I gasp out to a male hobbit smoking a pipe on a wooden barrel up against a building. He startles at my sudden approach, and looks my clothes up and down in shock. I try to smile, "I love the costumes on everyone! Where do I get one?"
His confused expression turns even more confused, "I'll be begging your pardon, miss? I don't understand. What costumes do you mean?"
"The HOBBIT costumes!" I yell like a maniac, losing my composure. "The pointy ears and the big feet and the medieval clothing! WHERE. CAN. I. BUY. SOME?!"
The man's mouth drops open, while his hand still grips his pipe in the air. He doesn't seem able to speak. He just stares at me with his mouth gaping like a fish, eyes wide.
I take a deep breath and then smile tightly at him. If I could see my expression I would say that I look unhinged, "Listen buddy, I am lost and I need to find a phone. Do you know where one is?"
The hobbit character shakes himself from his stupor but only just. "A...phone?" He squeaks out, looking from side to side nervously, "I've never heard of such a thing."
"Is this really Middle Earth?" I whisper, feeling the blood drain from my face. It's not. That's impossible. My stomach is quivering like jelly and I'm waiting for him to laugh and say 'no'. Waiting for the second his lips will curve up into a smirk, as he slaps his knee in a belly-bursting laugh and says, 'Gotcha, didn't I? C'mon, admit it…You almost fell for it!'
Just say it, dude. Just say it's all a-
"Uhh, I umm…..OH! Would you look at that? Is a quarter past one o'clock! My gran is expecting me for afternoon tea, so I must be going!" And with that, he hops off his barrel and power walks away like he is at the gym. He glances at me once before picking up the pace.
I stare at his receding figure.
Well, he didn't say it WAS Middle Earth…Still, I better try again.
The nearest person walking by me is a dark-haired hobbit woman with her dark-haired hobbit son, "Hi! Excuse me! Is this truly Middle Earth or are you all pranking me?" I stop them frantically.
The woman takes in my messy hair, strange clothing, and wild look in my eyes and grips her child's hand tighter. She mutters to her child, "Come along, Sebastian. Hurry. Do not make eye contact," and they hurry away from me, glancing back at me with frightened eyes.
That's two out of three.
"Ok, Peyton, you need to calm down. You NEED TO CALM DOWN! You're DREAMING!" I yell loudly, covering my ears and holding my head as I try to calm the chaotic thoughts banging around inside. I'm losing it. It's getting hard to breathe. Why is it getting so hard to breathe?
I take a step and trip over my own two feet only to land face-first in a hot pile of cow poop. At least, I hope it's cow poop…
I freeze in dismay and disgust. It was like a slap to my face, and it thankfully snaps me out of my episode. I get some in my mouth. Then I lose it, shrieking and gasping. I rip off my hoodie as fast as I can to clean my face. Gross, gross, gross…
That tasted…disgustingly real. Oh gross!
I gag and spit repeatedly, wiping my tongue off on my hoodie and thankfully have my white t-shirt underneath. How can this POSSIBLY get worse?!
I look up to see a whole crowd of hobbit wannabees whispering and staring at me with my tongue on my sweater. They look curious and shocked. I glance down at my white t-shirt. It says "1+1=3 If you don't wear a condom."
It was a 'going away to college' present from my best friend Lizzy who is crazy, but I love her for it. I only wore it today because I hadn't done laundry in two weeks and it was the last clean thing in my dresser. I had put a hoodie over it for good measure. Guess hobbits don't have a sense of humor?
I need somewhere to hide my poopy face while I think this through.
I see a hand-painted sign above a white-painted building that says 'Miss Danda's Seams and Stiches'. The calligraphy is very pretty and I force myself not to burst open the door, although my hands are shaking as I grip the medieval handle.
Inside there are swatches of simple fabrics on one side of the wall, with baskets filled with various sewing items and yarns. No posters, or pricing stickers anywhere. No background music playing from ceiling speakers. The store's shelves are made of wood and not metal. There's a hobbit woman with the signature curly hair everyone here seems to have, standing behind a counter talking to another hobbit woman also with curly hair. Everyone looks related in this town.
"I'll be right with yo-…oh!" The hobbit behind the counter sees me and pauses in shock. The hobbit she was talking to stops and turns to look at me as well.
"Oh, don't let me keep you! I'll just wait until you're done!" I nervously wave. It comes off more as a spasm.
Act casual. As casually as you can with bits of cow dung on your face, that is...
I turn to 'browse' the fabrics on the far side of the wall while indiscreetly wiping the rest of the muck off. There are no crazy colors or fun prints of dogs playing poker. No sparkles or sequins. Just the plainest shades of browns and greens and creams that you can think of.
My lips start trembling as I smooth my hand down over the fabrics and my eyes start to water. It can't be. It just CAN'T. BE...They're Amish people, Peyton. Just a bunch of Amish people. Very short Amish people with big hairy feet and pointy ears- a genetic deformity.
I try to focus my attention on the feel of the cloth against my hand as I rub my hand along the fabric.
Rub. Rub. Rub.
I feel dizzy. My breaths are in short gasps.
Hushed whispers come from the attendee and her client. And then I hear one of the ladies walk past me, her questioning gaze on my back as she leaves through the door, causing the little bell to tinkle. I turn and see the attendee still standing behind the counter, eyes curious.
"Good afternoon!" I try speaking cordially, walking to the counter. I try to give her a smile but it comes out shaky, and I grip my hands together to keep them from shaking. I notice there is no cash register, just a simple logbook. There are no electric light bulbs in the ceiling. A feather quill sits immobile beside the logbook.
Breathe. Breathe.
She nods her head at me, "Good afternoon. How can I help you, miss?"
"I was wondering if you could tell me where I am. I'm a little lost if you can't tell." I wave at my clothing and give a self-deprecating smile, as if she and I were in on the same joke about why our clothing is so different from each other.
She looks down at my clothes openly and gives a hum of curious agreement. She gives a hesitant smile, seeming to open up a little, "They certainly are very peculiar clothes. And this is Michel Delving, miss! From whence do you travel?"
"New York City." I deadpan, watching her expression closely. I'm not really from New York, but everyone on Earth KNOWS New York City. Everyone that speaks English at least, which this lady clearly speaks.
Her eyebrows furrow and she tilts her head to the side, "I'm…sorry? I have never heard of that place. Is it very far east of here?"
"Are we in Middle Earth?" I ignore the question and get right to the point. No funny business. Tell it to me straight.
"Uhhh…" her face crumples in confusion at the abrupt change in topic, but answers anyways, "Of…course?"
I blink and then beam at her. "Why, then, yes! YES, it is very far east of here!" I give her the biggest grin I can muster and slap my hand on the counter quite loudly, louder than I had anticipated, causing her to jump. I start laughing. I feel a strange floating feeling.
The hobbit woman starts chuckling a little too, not out of mirth, but out of nervousness that for some reason makes the whole thing even funnier.
I feel almost….giddy? Light headed. The face of the hobbit woman begins to sway, the room tilts dangerously and suddenly the floor is in the wrong direction. It decided to misplace itself to be beside my face instead of by my feet.
And then nothing but darkness.
End of Chapter.
So what did you guys think? It's one of my favorites because I think it's so funny to imagine how someone would react if they landed in another dimension. Especially a fantasy one. It was so fun to write!
I know, I know. Everyone faints. I've never fainted before in my life, tbh. BUT if I was transported to another world I think we all would do MORE than just faint. In fact, in the next chapter, I try to channel how I'd react if it was me stuck in Middle Earth. I wouldn't be like "Oh cool! THIS IS AMAZING! Middle Earth 4-ever!" I'd be like: "Welp! It's official. I've lost it. I've checked into the funny farm. I'm at the laughing academy. Someone snuck some drugs into my milkshake. I'm in the psychiatric ward...but I didn't think it would be this soon. I thought I had more time!" XD
Thanks for the 2 reviews, 2 favorites, and 6 followers! I didn't think I'd get any response for at least the next 4 chapters, haha!
Stay tuned for next week's post!