Chapter 2

Tiana was an only child.

That seemed to be important. Or, so it sounded. Greg found it hard to both focus on conversation and staying upright. It didn't matter most of the time, as she was a quiet one. That was to be expected of someone taking a trip alone. However, she wasn't averse to conversation, and details of her family came easily and unprompted. Same for the reasons for the trip: She wanted to see the world. If there were reasons unstated or hinted at, Greg wasn't getting that.

That, too, was expected.

His mind was not what it was. Even with attention focused, he knew he was missing most of what went on around him. Gone was the person he had been. Would he get him back?

Hard to say. He first had to wrap his brain around who he was.

"Enough." Greg stopped his forward motion, legs trembling as his right hand gripped the cane handle harder. "Enough. I'm done." He took a deep breath, free hand trying to find the canteen now hanging from his shoulder by a twine strap. "Keep going, but I'm done for the day."

Tiana stopped a few steps ahead of him, head cocked questioningly. She looked around, letting out a sigh.

"I had hoped you could go farther."

"Me too." He hobbled over to the closest tree. On seeing a nearby log, he changed direction. Left hand behind him searching, he turned and backed up, lowering himself when he felt it hit his leg. "I know it's early and I haven't traveled far, but my legs are killing me." His butt hit the log.

Her gaze was on him again. He wished he was better at reading people.

At least furry ones.

"It's OK. It's the journey that's important, after all."

That triggered a memory. He felt his face scowl as he sent his mind tracking it down.

"I remember something. Some song." He felt his mind reluctantly giving up its secret. "There was a lyric that went something like 'The point of the journey is not to arrive' or some such. Either it agreed with you, or the song was about suicide."

She gave him another look he couldn't decipher.

"True." Her gaze stayed for another moment. Eventually she shrugged. "Let me set up camp."

Monkey Girl camp seemed little different than a Human Girl one. It was made up of the same rain fly from the night before, set up as a lean-to against the wind. Her bedroll was just two blankets, nestled back where the fly touched the ground. A small pot appeared, filled with water from a stream just visible from where he sat. He couldn't see what went into it, but he assumed it was vegetables of some type. The wind kept whatever scents it produced away from him.

Greg felt useless. Naked, cold, useless. And tired. His legs, back, even right arm ached. Only his left arm, freed from actual work during the day's walk, seemed OK. A lot of good that did him.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

Her eyes again regarded him, hand still stirring the mystery dinner. Those red eyes were so...

"No. It's OK. Just sit there I'll have food for you soon."

He nodded. It was like being back in rehab. Sure, you were forced to do stuff part of the day, but the rest you stayed in your bed or chair and let them take care of you. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much you could do.

Stupid legs and brain.

"What's wrong with you?"

Tiana'a voice was gentle. Caring. Spoken any other way and he may have chosen to take insult. As it was he just sighed, leaning back against the tree trunk.

"My brain. I had an attack, and was left like this. I'm taking medicine to help things improve, or at least not get worse." Greg realized something. "Medicine I don't have." He sat up. "Shit."

"Is it important?" She stood, coming over. Her haired form seemed to tower over him. Greg let his head fall back against the tree.

"Most of the pills, probably no. They were to counteract the side effects of the other ones. But... " He shook his head. "Best not to worry about it. If something can't be helped..." Greg stopped. He knew he was going somewhere with that saying, but could no longer think of anything that didn't sound silly.

"True." Tiana touched his right knee as she knelt. "We will deal with each problem as it comes."

He frowned. His hand went to his hair of its own accord, running through the brown locks.

"You're going to ... stay with me? You don't have to." Well, to be more accurate, she had to if he was to have any chance of survival in this place. She just, really, had no reason to do that. Dumping him off somewhere somewhat safe was what most would probably do. Tiana nodded.

"I don't, but I will. There's something about you. I don't know what." Her hand was rubbing his knee. The smooth hardness of her palm felt good. TOO good. Greg had not felt an erection since this had happened, but now felt a stirring. All sorts of conflicting emotions washed over him. Embarrassment was high on the list, but he suppressed it, along perhaps with the erection which would have increased the feeling. It was also possible he just couldn't have one.

"What's the name of this place?" His gaze swept the lightly treed area.

"The world, or this area?" His eyes moved to meet hers. Smart she was.

"I'm ignorant of both."

She nodded, hand squeezing his knee.

"We call the world Nchi, which in the tongue of those who came before us meant 'Land of our Home'. This is what was once a road that ran between two small cities. I don't think it still has a name, as few use it. Travel and trade flows north and east from Leafbrother, as few now live south and west."

"You do."

"Few important." She stood, hand retaining contact as long as practical. "Stew should be ready. Let me get a bowl."

It had fish.

Greg wasn't sure why he was surprised. She seemed human in every other respect. Yet, he had assumed her people to be vegetarian. This seafood had been salted and dried, rehydrated in the stew. He downed the large chunks as quickly as he deemed polite, and safe. No bones so far.

"You like it?" Her voice sounded nervous. He smiled, spoon pausing.

"Yes. Thank you." Her eyes dropped down into her lap, a red tinge again seeming to appear on her black furred face.

"Good." Lifting her own bowl, she sipped the broth. "There's more if you need it."

"If you let me, I'll decimate your provisions. This is really good." He lifted the bowl himself, taking a large swig of the stew. He could feel it flow down into his stomach, energizing his body. He heard a chuckle.

"Go for it."

His eyes slowly opened.

Greg knew it wasn't morning. The darkness sort of hinted at that. He also suspected it wasn't far past sunset. He had gone to bed early, not protesting when Tiana insisted he use one of the blankets. It felt so good to have something cloth covering him, even if the grass and dirt under him wasn't that comfortable. He guessed maybe 10 PM, assuming days here were about the same as at home (and if this was a dream, why wouldn't they be?).

He also guessed it was her hand that was slowly stroking him.

If he had been himself, he would have jumped up, complained. Or, at least, said something about the great liberty she was taking. Despite what some of his acquaintances might think, he was a bit of a prude, and wanted to have at least consented to being touched. Being male didn't suddenly make molestation OK.

Neither did his fuzzy mental state, although he could understand it being confused for such.

Her touch was gentle, exploring. Whatever her experience with her own kind, this was obviously new. Not so new that she didn't know what part of him she was dealing with, though. While one hand gently moved up and down his shaft, the other held his balls. He could see in the rather bright star or moon light the intense concentration on her face. A narrow but somewhat long tongue flicked out, wetting her lips as he felt himself harden. His eyes closed, relishing the feeling. He had not been in this condition since ... well, at least since the attack. He had felt pleasure when touching himself, but not the physical reaction. Not the rise in pressure. Not the building up which could only result in...