I slammed the ground with a resounding thud. I bounced. Blackness tinged my vision, my ears rang. I think a soft “Oh! F***!” escaped my lips. I hadn't expected Portals to be so solid on the bottom. Well, to be fair, I'd had zero expectations. Although anything would have been a surprise, this was not the surprise I bargained for. I must've fallen several feet. One thing if you're braced for it, but off balance and unprepared, well, they say it's the sudden stop at the end.
My Las Vegas wounds throbbed anew with exquisite pain as I tasted dirt and grass. As the ringing abated, I was face-down in a grassy field. I got a whiff of a grassy scent that made me want to sneeze.
The shock and pain subsiding, I struggled to orient myself when a petite bag of cement landed on my back. Oof! At least I cushioned Wisceya's baby-bump. I was conscious enough to roll aside and pull the young fur-girl away from the landing spot before her mother joined us. We pulled Stapleya toward us and hugged her to our bodies. Teena – our most fragile member – was last and she landed hardest. Frail and elderly, a virtual walking skeleton, I imagined hearing bones crunch.
Wisceya bounded to her feet, unfazed by the rough landing, and helped me to my feet. Then we both assisted her mother. It took us a few seconds to orient ourselves before realizing Teena was not moving.
Wisceya reached Teena first. She began to roll her over. “Wait,” I said. “She may have internal injuries or broken bones.” She was so frail I feared the worst. I felt her limbs and ribs, her head and shoulder took the brunt of it. The visible bump on her head and developing 'goose-egg' reflected her harsh impact.
The Portal transitions are supposed to be simple, like stepping through a doorway. Someone removed the floor from this side of the doorway. Something has gone wrong.
Teena lay unconscious and Stapleya couldn't rouse her. She needed medical attention, we felt powerless. I said to Wisceya, “Let's turn her over real gentle-like.” We did, and I made sure of her breathing. After a few moments, I said to both fur-girls, “Snuggle down either side of her and shelter her. Lend her all the warmth you can.”
The chill had begun to permeate my skin. Stapleya and Wisceya hail from a much warmer world and dislike the cold. Even so, their fur imparts a natural advantage. Unconscious and injured, Teena needed all the warmth the fur-girls could lend her. I was starting to shiver.
I took inventory. Short inventory. We had zip, zilch, diddly, scratch, and naught, with a side order of nix. We were bare-assed naked, in a grassy field. Location unknown. Planet uncertain. Grass and a few trees were all I could see. Evening approached and with the dusk, the temperature was falling.