UNKNOWN LOCATION, XXXX

It's... Warm.

The familiar sensation of warm covers that wrap you in a comfortable embrace.

When was the last time I felt this warmth?

My eyes slowly peel open, allowing me to see a wooden ceiling. Although I've slept in many buildings with wooden roofs, I cannot say that this is a familiar ceiling.

As my thoughts wander, seemingly contemplating wooden ceilings at random, I quickly realise—

"Shit!" I can't help but let out a hushed curse as I wiggle and flex my toes, confirming that my leg is still... attached to me? They were a bit numb, but they definitely functioned, at least.

Suddenly, a buzz of pain— wh- whoa, WH-AGGHHH

What the hell's happening to it!? Am I getting a fucking cramp?!

Hissing, I turn onto my side, moving my legs together, hoping to quell the pain by massaging them.

…

After a few indiscernible… moments of time, the pain gradually faded.

Covered in sweat, the sheets and covers were all wrinkled from my movements; it was at this moment that I realise I'm completely naked.

When my hand moves to push the covers down, my bare skin is exposed to the coldest air I've ever felt in my life.

Quickly retreating back to the safe warmth that the bedsheets provided, I'm stuck in bed, only able to inspect my surroundings.

I look around, recognising a nightstand to my left with what appeared to be a turned-off oil lamp on top, but instead of the space where the fire would be, there was some sort of curved wire.

And to the right is a window with no curtains and a simple cross of wooden bars. It's nearly pitch-black outside, but there are some stars.

I try to get up but fall back down onto the bed as the strength in my body seemingly leaves me. Shit, I think I'm going to fall asleep…

As I lay helpless, I could only see the familiar sight of a dark sky peppered with stars across a vast void expanse.

Except, that isn't the only thing I see.

Two moons, glowing in an eerie resemblance to one I'm all too familiar with.

And once again, darkness takes me.

~⁕~

I wake up to sunlight shining through the window. The pain in my leg is gone, and I can see the room better now. To my left is a girl—

"Zdravstvuyte~!" A girl with a soft, honey-like accent beams from my bedside.

"Jesus, where'd ya come from!?" Fuck, my soul nearly left my body!

Instinctively, I try to reach for my revolver or shotgun, only to remember that there is not a single article of clothing on my body.

With nothing else immediately coming to mind, I could do nothing but be at the stranger's mercy.

The girl giggles in amusement and helps me to a sitting position before blinking owlishly at my words.

"…You speak Victorian, ah? Not Ursus? But you look like a Columbian!" She quickly returned to a bright and cheery way of speaking.

It's clear that she doesn't mean any harm, so I slowly become more relaxed as we stare at each other. However, I still keep an eye on her, just in case…

Anyway, I'm not the best at reading and writing, but I'm pretty sure I spit English, and not… whatever she said. Also, isn't Columbia a city in one of the Carolinas—the south one—or something?

Either way, from my angle, I can't tell how tall she is, but judging by her face and shoulders, she's a nice young missus I'd love to see after a hard day of work.

As if that'd ever happen to a bounty hunter in the bayou.

…

Shining jet-black hair that seemed too long for any woman flowed down the sides of her confused face and—presumably—her back like a waterfall. Her fair skin was lightly freckled, and her light-grey eyes remind me of the dense fog that occasionally blanketed the bayou. What catches my attention is the pair of rounded ears that protruded from the top of her head. I'll have to ask about those later.

Moving across the room, the girl lifts a tray from a table, revealing a bowl with steam rising from the top. "Did you sleep well?"

That's a good question.

"…I did wake up at night with a cramp, but other than that, there's nothing wrong."

The girl placed the tray on my lap with a nod, and in the bowl was a soup I'd never seen before. The broth was cloudy and bordered on green and orange, with a multitude of chopped vegetables and strips of cooked meat.

With nothing else to do in this situation, I dig in.

"It's delicious, isn't it? Мама made it." "Mamua"? That's an odd way to pronounce "Mama"…

"Mmh…" It's true, the meat is very tender, the carrots easily break apart with no resistance when my tongue presses against them, and the cubed potatoes dissolve in my mouth. Overall, it's a rather hearty meal.

Almost forgetting to breathe, I take a deep breath before realising that I could see her appearance better now.

The girl was dressed in a white dress with a thin, red blocky pattern that lined the edges. A golden necklace with an oval locket hung from her neck with a strange symbol on it.

Overall, she is definitely foreign; there isn't a single chance that she could pass as an American. I believe she is one of the Russians I've been hearing about recently, along with the Chinese and Japanese, all crossing the seas like vultures to take a piece out of the rotting corpse that was the bayou.

Whether it's fame or fortune, they'll keep on coming as long as the plague that ravages Louisiana brings benefits to people's personal agendas.

…

However, I do not believe I have seen any Russians with bear ears recently, no matter how much the two concepts fit.

I feign clearing my throat to see if the ears move and react to sound like a normal animal's.

And sure enough, her ears twitched a bit, but the movement was so small that I'm not sure if my eyes are playing tricks on me or not.

I figured it was about time to ask, so I gesture to her ears. "So, I've never seen those on a person before; are they real?"

She seems surprised. "Mmh? Of course, have you never seen an Ursus before? That is very strange." Her hand rests on her chin, clearly thinking about my words.

"…I suppose that's right."

The word "Ursus" sounded familiar, but I don't recall hearing it before.

After a moment, I have to ask.

"So, were you the one who fixed my leg up?"

The mention of my leg's condition causes her to freeze up.

"N-Nyet… Um, um…" The girl stammers at the question, looking even fearful of answering. I should probably let this go.

We sit in silence for a brief moment before both of us hear a voice.

The language sounds oddly familiar, which sent my mind delving back to a memory when I observed a game of craps being played in the streets. I don't know much about craps, but it had something to do with correctly betting on the outcome of a pair of dice rolls. There was this Russian deserter who bet on his pistol, and I can't seem to remember if he won or not.

Either way, the girl beside me stood up and replied similarly before turning back to me.

"After you have eaten, Мама would like to speak with you. Your clothes are at the foot of the bed; I must go." She stated before running off. As she did, I spotted a black fur ball right above her backside. A bear's tail.

…

Placing the finished bowl of soup on the nightstand, I climb out of bed, ready to get dressed.

As I'm fastening the bandolier rig on my torso, I realise something grave.

My guns are missing.

Everything else is accounted for, even the spare ammunition in the various pouches that are attached to my rigging.

All except for my Romero shotgun and Scottfield revolver.

And no matter where I looked, the two guns that assisted me through the hell that was damnation were nowhere to be found.

I'll deal with this later; the people here don't seem to be too malicious.

Opening the door of my room, I could tell the house was relatively small by the absence of doors that led anywhere else.

It was a rather small room. To my right is a wooden cabinet coated in off-white paint. A rectangular table hugged the far opposite side of the wall, protected by a white cloth net with a flower pattern. There were only a few feet of space between the cabinet and the table, allowing only one extra seat if the ends of the table were already occupied.

Sitting at the table was the girl from earlier and an elderly lady dressed in a similar outfit as the girl's, except the colours were red and brown instead. They sat there eating their soup quietly, and as I came into view, the girl perked up.

"Oh, please take a seat! If you have any questions please ask." She offered.

Hearing the girl's words, the old woman raised an eyebrow at the English. Taking note of this, the girl quickly said something to her in that Russian language again.

The chair creaked underneath me as I sat on it, my arms folded as the two other occupants of the house studied me intently, taking in my eye-catching outfit, although I think it leant more towards "weird" instead.

After a moment of silence, she suddenly perks up, as if realising something.

"Hey, mister? I have been wondering this whole time, but what exactly is your race—"

Suddenly, the old lady cleared her throat, shutting the girl up, before speaking some words to her.

After a bit, the girl nodded before turning back to me.

"…Мама said that in exchange for… aiding you, we wish for you to aid us back." Well, I suppose it's fair. I'm going to assume, despite the girl's reaction about my leg, that they restored it in some way.

"Before that, I have an important question to ask ya." Let's get this out of the way.

"Mmh?"

"I'm missing two very important things to me, and it's extremely obvious what they are."

I stare intently into the girl's eyes.

"Do you know what happened to them?"

…

"N-No, sir."

Hmm…

Glancing over at the old dame, it was hard to tell what kind of emotion she had, but she seemed to be examining me closely. The only words she had ever spoken in this conversation were in her language.

I let out a sigh, this isn't going to go anywhere, "Fine, what do I need to do?"

"…How well can you use an axe?"