Pandemonium | Dream SMP

87. Anarchy.

I wake to the smell of wet dog and hot stew. An unusual, yet not entirely unwelcome smell. It reminds me of when I was a child and would sneak out to sleep in the llama pen, squashed snuggly between their fuzzy bodies. They were friendly llama's, used to pull the caravans that our travelling community owned. My dads always scolded me for it, stating it was unhygienic. And it was. But I always felt sorry for the creatures, sat outside under flimsy canopy's.

I turn and bury my face into the fluffy pillow at my side. It's warm, and when I reach up to run a hand through the fabric it...breathes?

I blink open my eyes.

A dog with shaggy brown fur is lead beside me, and when I catch its eye it wags its tail and gives me an affectionate lick across the nose.

"Thanks..." I croak out, utterly bewildered. The dog perks up and gives me more kisses and I have to shove a hand over its snout to make it stop.

"Making friends?" A voice asks.

My shoulders stiffen.

"Techno?"

"Yup."

I sit up in what I now realise is a bed, laden with thick furs and blankets and too many pillows. Techno is crouched a few feet away, throwing a fresh log into the small cabin's fireplace. A pot of stew bubbles over the flames, and is the source of that delicious smell. A single window sits above a table and chair, showing a snowy landscape beyond.

I take in the room in a single sweep of my eyes before settling my attention back onto Techno.

"Where am I?"

"My house."

"Oh..."

Did he carry me here? Must have. How long have I been out? My brain feels foggy, like someone's stuffed it with cotton wool.

I look down at my hands, flexing my aching fingers. I feel like I should be doing something, but I don't know what it is. What am I supposed to do in this scenario? I have no responsibilities anymore. Nowhere I need to run to. No one to check on. I'm completely, officially alone.

Slowly, I lay back down and pull the covers over my head, snuggling back into the large dog.

"I think I'm going to stay here for a bit."

"Be my guest."

I think I fall asleep again, because when I next peel back the covers the room's single lantern has burnt almost to the wick, and the dog that had been sleeping beside me has vanished, along with its owner.

I stay lead down for a while, simply enjoying the quietness of the cabin. It feels like the war didn't even happen.

I grow bored surprisingly quickly, tucked away in the corner of the cabin with nothing to do. So I slip out from the bed's heavy covers and make it halfway across the room before remembering that I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be in pain. Except I feel totally fine. Better than fine, even. I feel like I could challenge Techno to another wrestling match-possibly even win it. I'm still in the same clothes as I had been the night I passed out, except in all the places where I should have had swellings, scrapes and bloody bruises, perfect skin shines through the gaps of my ripped outfit. Even the crossbow bolt in my thigh is gone, with only a bump left as indication that I'd been shot.

Did Techno lather me in health potions while I was asleep? Or maybe...

I eye the stew pot, still hung above the fire. I had been about to help myself to a bowl, but suddenly I'm not so sure.

A bark from outside has me jump, remembering where I am. I head for the door, grabbing my boots that had been drying by the fireplace and tugging them on. There are no coats that I can find, so instead I return to the bed and grab a fur pelt to throw around my shoulders.