Good days

It all happened at once. A few hours ago he was standing in the blinding sun of the day, reflecting on his aspect of life. The next moment, he was in darkness. Total, total, darkness. Then, as soon as it arrived, before he could react, the darkness retreated.

He was standing in grass. Beautiful, vibrant green grass.Low rolling hills stretched out in all directions, a mountain range rising like teeth on the northern horizon.

"What the devil happened?!" he shouted, looking rapidly around his new environment. The silence was so sudden it almost hurt his ears. Nothing but the quiet chirping of birds in a distant forest. "Where the devil am I?!"

Dylan sat down on the grass and tried to understand the situation. It was absurd and frightening to lie down and just be instantly somewhere else "Like in a dream" Dylan mentally says.

He looked down at the grass that carpeted the hills around him. Every blade, every tiny dandelion was completely distinct, completely detailed. If his brain was generating all this, it must be working overtime.

But it is necessary to think and consequently to act. Looking at a lot of flashy green and breathing air without any particular negative will not make him get out of the situation, let alone understand it.

"Well, let's walk, better to continue than stop." Says thinks Dylan.

And he begins to do what his thoughts commanded him to do. He initially climbs one of the hills and looks at the landscape to try to figure out where he will have to go. The view is beautiful but discouraging, as far as the view goes, there were just endless lawns to walk through which discourages and reinforces even more that if it was a nightmare, it could only be scientifically induced, perhaps in an experiment by some crazy person to see how far the human mind is capable of creating a reality.

Dylan inwardly thanks himself for being young and being a creature bred to walk. Dylan also worked a short stint in the police and remembers perfectly well running after thugs in the woods, which gave him an idea of what to do for now. The human could easily become mentally bewildered by his unusual situation, but he'd learned that in stressful situations, it's good to focus on something, and he was now focused on finding a place to spend the not too late night. He walks, he walks across the sprawling lawns for what Dylan could conceive of as at least a few hours as the sun was starting to set. Dylan was tired and thirsty, he was also sporadic hungry and in view of this some change of strategy is necessary. As there was no advance he deduces that he was walking in circles due to the fact that it was practically the same terrain and he was already getting annoyed with this green. He climbs back up another big hill to observe the path and finds more green, just another kind of green. They were trees, a less vivid green, a clear sign of an older site. Even though he didn't see anything that would really lift him out of his physical suffering state, he rejoices that his effort is not entirely futile. Now he could find a possible source of water and he could sleep somewhere sheltering from the wind, which would keep his body heat up.

He then heads towards the trees, it was already early night and the moon was showing itself in the sky. Quickly he arrived in the forest, Dylan wasn't afraid of the dark, he had seen many things in his young life, but this forest was a little intimidating. Maybe it was his little real experience in forests, the event that he would expect that he would wake up and follow his same work routine, which he had been repeating for a few years but ends up in a completely new place and far from any trace of civilization, he had that walking for a long time making him tired, hungry and thirsty, which shook his mental state, leaving him anguished from his miserable situation

Continuing further on he finds a stream, from which he drinks with great desire its clear liquid that glistened under the moonlight. The water was tasteless, but it was extremely satisfying to remove the dryness from the throat and wet the tongue and roof of the mouth. He drinks a little even when his thirst is quenched so he doesn't have to go back to the stream anytime soon. Even hungry, the priority for now was sleep, he would survive if he didn't eat for a day or two, he thinks to himself.

He finds a fallen log and the human chooses to spend the night there. The man takes some branches and leaves and places them on the fallen trunk in order to create a simple tent where he could put himself down and spend the night. He soon gets ready in his bed-trunk. There was nothing cozy about the place and the Man closes his eyes so that the night passes as quickly as possible This place is horrible but it is very exciting to stay. Thinks Dylan with the aim of removing any negative thoughts from your head.

The end of his third night had been much like his first two, with him finding cover and doing his best to get comfortable and get some rest. He settled under a particularly large pine tree, he rested his head on the earth root, closed his eyes and fell asleep. While he would have killed for a bed to rest, he took solace in the fact that he wouldn't have to go to work the next morning.

…

“Hey,” a soft voice began, “you’re not dead, are you?”

The question was preceded by a gentle poke to his ribs, fully wrenching him from his slumber. Bolting upright, scanning the area in a panic, his thoughts went haywire. As he twisted in place, frantically looking for whoever had awoken him, his eyes ultimately settled on a bushy-maned thing.

The question was preceded by a gentle poke to his ribs, fully wrenching him from his slumber. Bolting upright, scanning the area in a panic, his thoughts went haywire. As he twisted in place, frantically looking for whoever had awoken him, his eyes ultimately settled on a bushy-maned thing.

Whatever he was looking at definitely wasn’t a pony, although it had a few similarities to one. Roughly the same size, and with a pair of brilliant, golden peepers, her head was wreathed in a tawny mane. The tree-like horn, fern colored plates on her back, and shaggy tale had him at a loss, yet her smiling face did manage to dismiss his most immediate concern.

“I’m gonna take that reaction as a ‘I’m not dead’ response,” she exclaimed before gasping and grasping his cheeks. “Wait, unless you’re undead! Are you a zombie?”

“What? No,” he balked, reflexively shoving her away, “I’m just a human.”

"And I'm a kirin," she chirped, holding a cloven hoof to her chest, "but that doesn't explain why you're invading our territory."

Her onepunch of glib statement sent him reeling, damn near making him bonk his head on the tree he was leaning against. While the declaration of trespassing was a bit disconcerting, especially since it was coming from a creature he couldn’t identify, the way she’d dismissively mentioned him demanded every iota of his attention. Squinting down at her, he leaned forward.

“What ~ the part about encroaching on our land or the part about l am a kirin?” she countered, piquing a brow.

His jaw hung open, and his heart skipped a beat, as she affirmed his suspicions. Somehow, after all the shit he’d been through, he’d managed to find someone! There were a million and one questions he had for her, ranging from those regarding what she was to others revolving around her knowledge of the intimate, and he honestly didn’t know where to start.

Taking a small step back, she squinted up at him. “You ok there... hmm.." She puts her paw on her chin trying to remember something

Dylan shook his head and tried to compose himself, a slight smile on his face as he watched his captor think about his name. “Actually, the name is Dylan.”

“Autumn,” she announced, thrusting a foreleg in his direction, “Autumn Blaze."

“Pleased to meet you,” he hummed, shaking her hoof. “If you don’t mind my asking, would you mind answering a few -”

“Ah ah ah -” she tutted, cutting him off, “we can talk about whatever you want on the way back to the village. It’s a long walk and we’ll have plenty of time to chat before we arrive for your trial.”

He stops and stares at his captor. His abrupt halt in stride was not due to dread that in a few hours he would be on trial, but some bad memories of being in a courtroom.