Archive of Our Own ^beta

It’s an interesting feeling, loading up your entire life into a truck. You have to weigh the pros and cons of every single thing you own. Sure, the collection of books is nice, but is it necessary? The truck can’t even fit a mattress. Well, it could, but there were much more important things taking up space, so the mattress is sold and he packs an air mattress instead.

Packing takes longer than expected, but it always does. And it’s a debate trying to figure out if he’s going to use something between the time he packs it away and by the time he unpacks it once he’s finally moved in. The small book collection is packed a month before he moves. (Most of) the kitchen, a week. Anything else is stuffed last-minute into the already overflowing backseat of the truck. 

Any furniture- the bed, the couches, and even dressers and desks, is left behind. It’s the landlord’s problem now. Maybe they’ll be given to the new tenants, maybe they’ll be donated or trashed or whatever, it doesn’t really matter anymore. 

Right- right. Context. It started about a month before- a small town posting a job offering. They were looking for a physician, hoping for them to start as quickly as possible. The pay wasn’t huge, but it came with free room and supplies, which was a big plus. He sent out an email, just to try, and got an online interview the very next day.

And here Ponk was just a month later, driving down long, winding roads, on his way to his new home.

The first thing, Ponk realizes, is that the town is incredibly isolated. It’s about an hour away from any neighboring town, and that hour is spent driving through thick forests. Heaven forbid a tree happen to fall across the road- Ponk could imagine it taking weeks before someone was able to come out and do something about it. 

There were no fallen trees, however, just the regular ones towering over everything around them. Ponk was pretty glad to be driving during the day instead of night- he could only imagine how creepy it would be to have to go in the darkness. Especially considering he wasn’t exactly getting phone reception out here. 

Ponk nearly missed the sign for the town. It was old, rusty, and half-covered by a bush. But Ponk saw it nonetheless.

Welcome to L’manburg. Population: 1,624

Yeah, it was a really small town. But Ponk got paid salary, not by job, so he wasn’t worried if he didn’t get many customers. He’d just have to treat the ones he found and spend his free time… Something. Maybe he’d take up some new hobby. Knitting, or- okay, probably not knitting. Gardening? Surely people garden out here.

The town was incredibly small. Sure, the population was tiny, but he hadn’t expected the town to be this small. There was a gas station, a small grocery store, a laundromat, and a single diner (that currently happened to be closed). Further down the road was the post office and church. Next were the houses.

Ponk was honestly surprised how different they all looked. He supposed there was no HOA out here, considering how some of them looked… Well, they looked dilapidated. Worn down. Weeds and wildflowers overflowed in some yards. A few houses had broken windows. Another had pieces of wood, trash, and even a tire in their front yard. Most houses were faded shades of reds, yellows, and blues. A few wooden, and the occasional brick.

On the other side of the houses were the schools- a combined elementary-middle school, and a high school. No college, Ponk noted. Finally, just a little further down, was exactly what he was looking for.

Every place Ponk had worked before had been large, a variety of offices stuffed into a building. You’d have Ponk and thirty other doctors on a single floor. This was… Certainly not that.

But it was clear that it was the building he wanted to go to. That was obvious by the large, old sign on the front, labeled 'L’manburg Family Doctor’. The building was somewhat of a log cabin, green roof and all. There wasn’t even a driveway, the road just turned to gravel and faded into the dirt. Ponk pulled his truck forward into the dirt before parking and climbing out of it. 

Hesitantly, he approached the front door. It was an orange-y brown and the doorknob was a faded brass color. He carefully stuck the key into the lock, turned it, and-

The door swung back into the house, making Ponk scream and stumble backwards, nearly falling into the dirt.

Standing in the doorway- in his doorway- was a woman. She couldn’t be much older than thirty, face covered in freckles and only a few wrinkles. Her hair was a stunning mess of curls, a mix of coppery red and stark white. Brown eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Ponk- or maybe she was more surprised to scare him.

“I’m so sorry!” she shouted, panicked.

Ponk forced himself to calm down, brushing himself off slightly before looking up. “Um…” What was he supposed to say to the lady in his house? 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear. Are you okay?”

Ponk blinked. “Why are you in my house?”

“Oh! I haven’t introduced myself- I’m Dr. Puffy, but most people just call me Puffy. You must be… Ponk, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well- I’m the town’s therapist. And the school counselor. And I run PTA. It’s so nice to meet you.” Puffy stuck out her hand for a handshake.

When Ponk didn’t respond immediately, she glanced down at his hands. Her smile faltered. Not faded, but faltered. She looked… Uncomfortable. Yikes. 

A little thing about Ponk- he didn’t exactly have both arms. His right one was fine, but he’d lost the left in an accident when he was young. It didn’t keep him from being a doctor or anything, and his parents even managed to get him a bionic arm. It wasn’t the same one he used now, obviously, since it would’ve been way too small, but it was the same concept. Puffy looked like she didn’t want to shake the bionic hand, though. 

She dropped her hand to her side. 

Ponk grimaced.  “I’m Dr. Ponk Drops, I’m the new town doctor.”

Ah, there was that smile again. It felt more plastered on this time. “Again, great to meet you. I’ve been having to do the doctor stuff for the past two months, so it’s nice for our town to have a professional again. People really rely on you, you know.”

He nodded just slightly, looking past her and into the house behind her. It looked… Musty. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t even think- I was just tidying up the house a little bit before your arrival. It’s been left pretty much untouched and I figured you didn’t want to spend your first week here cleaning up after the previous tenant.” Puffy let out a laugh that Ponk didn’t reciprocate.

“Yeah, for sure. Well, I’m-”

“Do you need help moving boxes? Furniture?” she asked.

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Ponk replied. It wasn’t like there was that much stuff to move, and even if there was, he didn’t want strangers touching (and probably going through) all of his stuff. He’d much rather move everything on his own than deal with that.

“Well… I guess I’ll be out of your hair, then.” She stepped out of the doorway and onto the porch.

Ponk let out a sigh of relief, stepping past her and into the doorway.

“Oh! Before I forget!” 

He turned around as she pulled a scrap of paper out of her pocket, scribbling something on it before shoving it into his hand. 

“What-” he started, only to be interrupted.

“It’s my number. Don’t be afraid to call if you need anything. Food, company, sink fixed. If I can’t personally help, I know someone in town who can until you get to know people yourself.”

That was… A little weird, if Ponk had to say so. Maybe he just hadn’t come in contact with people this friendly before. Or maybe this lady was just overly friendly. Or, most likely, she was just excited to have a new person in the town. He couldn’t imagine it got many visitors, much less new residents, considering its location.

“Thanks, Puffy. I’ll let you know.”

She flashed him another grin. “Well, I’ll see you around, Dr Ponk.” And with that, she left. Instead of getting in a car, she just… Walked. From the dirt to the gravel to the road- not even the side of it, on the actual road! Though he guessed she didn’t really have to worry about any cars speeding down it. 

Ponk turned back to the house in front of him, the door still wide open, and stepped inside.

His initial thought of it being musty was right. He had no idea what she was apparently cleaning, because he could feel the dust sticking to his shoes. He swore he could smell mold in the air, too. Either it had gotten really bad over the month they didn’t have a doctor, or that doctor had no idea how to take care of a house.

The house was dark, all curtains and blinds closed tightly. The only light came in through the door, which Ponk only left open so he could see. He turned to the light switch next to the front door and flicked it. 

The porch light turned on.

He flicked that one off and flicked the one next to it.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He flicked it off and back on. Still nothing. 

Great, so the house had no lighting. Maybe Ponk should’ve expected it. With a sigh, he moved throughout the downstairs of the house, opening each curtain and set of blinds.

The door led almost immediately into a living room. It was decorated with dusty, empty bookshelves, two end tables, and a single, old-as-hell couch. Seriously, the thing had to be older than Ponk judging by the style. It was covered in plastic, too, though Ponk wasn’t sure if that was to protect from the dust or to protect from people sitting on it.

To the left of the living room was the kitchen- tiny and dated. The sink was rusty and cabinet space was sparse. The curtains were patterned with… Ha, with little lemons. Cute. 

Behind the kitchen was a concerningly steep staircase. Seriously, it was borderline a ladder. The house must’ve been built ages ago, because there was no way this met current safety standards. 

Instead of going up the ladder-stairs, he continued to the back of the house.

The house was more or less sectioned in half- the front being his living area, the back being the doctor’s office. If you asked Ponk, it was inefficient and made no sense. Shouldn’t the doctor’s office be in the front, that way people wouldn’t have to walk all the way through his house just to get to it? Maybe the old doctor was friendlier than him, but Ponk shuddered at the thought of people walking through and gawking at his stuff.

The front of the house and the doctor’s office area was sectioned off by a wall, a window (yes, indoors), and a green door. He opened that green door and stepped inside. 

Ponk wrinkled his nose as soon as the smell hit him. It was… Musty just like the rest of the house, but even worse here. Like expired antiseptic, mold, and just a hint of live animals. Maybe a dead one or two, too.

He opened all the curtains- again, lemon patterned; he was starting to see a theme here- and then he looked around. 

It was less of a doctor’s office and more of a school nurse’s office. There were two old mattresses, low to the ground and shaky looking, separated by a single green curtain. Plenty of cabinets and drawers to put medical supplies in. And- thank goodness, they actually had medical supplies in them. That was good. If Ponk had to pay out of pocket for all that stuff, he probably would’ve quit on the spot. 

The room actually had a fair amount of medical supplies, almost more than Ponk thought necessary. Though maybe it was difficult to get supplies regularly, so they had to stock up when they got the chance. Ponk put that thought in the back of his head- if this job was long-term, he’d need to know that, too. 

There was a good variety of supplies, too. Tongue depressors, bandaids, and antiseptic, of course. But also heart monitors, IVs, and even materials to do a cast. Although there wasn’t an x-ray machine, so… Pros and cons, he guessed. But it wasn’t bad, really. It was more than Ponk was used to having access to, anyway.

Of course there were still things Ponk would have to take care of. Go through the medicine and anything else that could expire, wash (or maybe even replace) the bedsheets, sweep the floors… Not today, though. That could wait at least until he had brought all his stuff inside.

It only took about an hour to get all of Ponk’s stuff inside his new house, and it probably would’ve been less if he had caved and bought a dolly to move the boxes. But no, he had been stubborn and carried each box individually (or usually in stacks of two or three depending how heavy they were). 

Ponk’s bedroom, like the rest of the house, was covered in dust and had a light that didn’t work. Ponk would need to buy lightbulbs. Or hire an electrician. Lightbulbs would be the easier step, though.

At least he had brought his broom and mop. That was the first thing he did before anything else- he swept and mopped the entire house, including the doctor’s area. It took twice as long to do that as it did to move his boxes inside, but at least it was less dusty now. And he felt a little better about unpacking some of his stuff.

‘Unpacking some of his stuff’ referred to dropping his suitcase in the middle of the bedroom, setting up a few charging cords and an alarm clock, and, of course, blowing up the air mattress that would be serving as a bed until he could go to the nearest decently-sized town and buy a new mattress and bed frame. But for now, he used the air mattress.

Which he had to blow up by himself.

Breath after exhausting breath, over and over, only taking breaks to try and make his head stop spinning, he managed to blow it up. It was a great coincidence, actually, considering he was feeling light-headed by the time he finished. With a sigh, he collapsed onto the air mattress, rolling onto his back.

This town was tiny. The people- er, the one person- he had met so far was nice. And… he got paid by salary. It would be good. It would be good. It had to be.

Ponk didn’t realize he fell asleep until he woke up to a knocking on the front door. The walls were thin, he realized, considering he could hear the knock from all the way upstairs. That, or whoever was knocking was incredibly loud.

Instead of going straight down, he rifled through his suitcase for just a moment before pulling out what he was looking for- a medical mask. This one was red with orange and yellow stripes. He put it on before very carefully descending the staircase. 

It wasn’t that Ponk was a germaphobe- he wasn’t, really. He just… Well, he dealt with a lot of sick people, so he took as many precautions as he could to keep from getting sick himself. And if that included wearing a medical mask most of the time, it was a small price to pay.

He was so slow going down the steep stairs, that he honestly expected whoever was knocking to be gone by the time he opened the door, but they weren’t.

He was met with a familiar face- Puffy, again. Her hair was now pulled up into a ponytail falling just below her shoulders. She had put a plaid flannel on over her shirt to keep from the very slight chill that had settled over the town as the sun began to set- had Ponk really slept that long? 

“Hi again,” she said with a bright smile. She was holding something in her hands- ceramic blue, the top covered in foil. On top of it, a smaller pie tin, also covered in foil.

“Hi,” Ponk replied, unsure of what to do.

“I figured you didn’t have groceries yet- and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t want to cook after the long drive. And since the diner’s closed today, I made you this!” She extended her arms, bringing what Ponk had now identified as a casserole dish and a pie tin towards him.

“Oh, you didn’t-”

“Think of it as a welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift. We didn’t know exactly when you were coming, so no one knew when to prepare stuff to give you- but I’m sure more people will be bringing gifts tomorrow. Most people don’t like being out after dark, so…”

“I can see why.” Ponk nodded towards the forest that surrounded… Well, everything.

Puffy chuckled. “You get used to it after a while, but some of the town is just too deep in their ghost stories. Do you believe in ghosts, Ponk?”

Ponk snorted at that. “No, I don’t believe in that stuff. Too scary for me, I’d rather not get wrapped up in it.”

“Good, good. Keep that attitude when the teenagers come and try to scare you off, okay?”

“...Okay,” he replied awkwardly, not really sure where to go with that.

Puffy left shortly after that, though not without some brief, somewhat awkward, small talk. 

Ponk ended up eating part of the casserole, putting the rest in the fridge. Good news- the house did in fact have electricity, it was just the lighting that was messed up for whatever reason. He’d have to see if Puffy knew someone to fix that. He could ask when- ha! He could ask when he returned the casserole dish she had left with him. 

Ponk slept surprisingly well that night, though not without a little bit of difficulty. Because of the stuffiness of the house overall, he decided to leave the window open just a crack, which was fine in theory. Except he could hear every single noise from outside.

The wind blowing the leaves of the trees around, the howling of wolves far in the distance, the scratching of animals against… Something. 

Needless to say, it took a while for him to fall asleep. But once he did, he slept rather well. 

It was good that he slept well, because he had a lot of work cut out for him the next day. It was spent entirely on cleaning out that doctor’s office- which had just a little bit too much expired medicine for Ponk’s liking. 

It wouldn’t be that bad if it wasn’t so old! The old doctor left two months ago, according to Puffy, but some of this stuff had been expired for a decade now!

“My goodness,” Ponk murmured to himself, tossing another bottle in the bin, “This guy needs to learn what spring cleaning is.”

It went like that for a long while longer, Ponk only stopping halfway through to open the door. The smell hadn’t gotten any better even with the removal of all the expired medicine, so he was hoping airing it out worked. And, as he was cleaning, he was being hyper-vigilant for any signs of mold. Of course, he couldn’t find any, so maybe the old doctor had just sucked at cleaning. 

But what the doctor lacked in cleaning skills, he made up for in organizational skills. Particularly in the large filing cabinet in the corner of the room. It was filled with file after file of person in the town. There was probably one for every one of those one-thousand-and-whatever people living here, though Ponk wasn’t going to count them to be sure. 

He pulled out a few files out of pure curiosity. In his head he justified it by saying he wanted to know how thorough with notes the old doctor was, but in reality, he just wanted to get some semblance of what the kind of injuries he could expect to be dealing with.

It was basic information, he realized after reading a few files and setting them down on the table in front of him. One file of a pregnant patient, another for a kid with a broken arm. Yeah, real basic stuff.

In all honesty, it seemed like Ponk had a pretty simple job. He’d treat people when they came, and-

There was a small scratching- no, skittering- sound nearby. Ponk figured it was a mouse or something outside until the thump of something as it landed on the table. 

Slowly, Ponk lowered the file he was reading, locking eyes with the creature in front of him.

Small, beady eyes only made darker by the thick blonde fur surrounding them. Sharp teeth and claws. A horrifically angry expression.

Ponk screamed. He practically fell over as he tried to back away from the creature.

Or, not “creature”. Not really.

Animal was a better word.

The thing in front of Ponk, standing on four legs on Ponk’s table, was a raccoon with blonde fur. It didn’t pay much attention to Ponk, instead staring down at the files in front of it. Before Ponk could react, it had grabbed a file in its mouth and leapt down from the table, dashing to the door.

Ponk stood in shock for a few seconds, staring at the animal as he tried to get his racing heart to slow just a bit.

“Wait- hey! You can’t take that!” Ponk shouted.

The racoon tilted its head slightly.

“Drop it,” Ponk tried. 

It was useless, of course. The raccoon didn’t speak English.

So Ponk took a few, careful steps forward. Three to be exact, because as soon as his foot hit the floor on the fourth step, the raccoon took off running- out of the back door and straight into the woods behind Ponk’s house.

Just his luck.

At least Ponk was wearing shoes. Running shoes, even! So without much thought, he took off into the woods chasing after the animal.

It wasn’t like he wanted to spend his Monday morning chasing after a wild animal, but it also wasn’t like he had a choice! The chances of these files being digitized somewhere was about as likely as Ponk catching the raccoon- that was to say, incredibly low. And Ponk definitely needed that file for privacy reasons.

And it wasn’t like the raccoon would hold onto it forever, either. No, eventually it would get bored and drop it. Or get scared and drop it. Or hungry or- something! But it didn’t matter. The point was the little menace would drop it, and then Ponk could retrieve the file and bring it home.

His lungs were burning by the time the animal stopped- just a few yards in front of him.

Ponk stumbled to a stop to try and avoid startling it. To his surprise, it looked left, then right, and then it dropped the file and scurried up a nearby try.

Ponk let out a breath of relief- followed by frantically sucking in air to try and replace what he had lost. It wasn’t that he was out of shape, but man, he didn’t run a lot. Especially not through hella thick woods on Monday mornings. He definitely stumbled a bit as he walked forward. He bent down to pick up the file and froze.

There was a sound nearby- maybe ten yards away. It sounded like a cry. A pained cry. Ponk couldn’t tell if it was human or animal, but he was sure it was hurt. And maybe it was- no, no, it was definitely stupid, but he tucked the folder under his arm and walked towards the noise anyway.

Listen- Ponk wasn’t stupid by any means. He knew approaching random animals in the middle of the woods- especially if you hadn’t told anyone where you were going- was a bad idea. But the animal was clearly hurt and he couldn’t just leave it there to die. Besides, he didn’t have to get close. If it was dangerous, he’d just get a look at the animal and leave.

The animal was only a few yards away, mostly obscured by a tree. It- oh.

It was a deer, just slightly larger than average, lying on its side. Its back right leg was caught tightly in a bear trap and the poor creature was struggling to get out without an ounce of progress. Poor thing, Ponk thought. 

Ponk took a deep breath before taking slow, careful steps towards the thing. He didn’t want to spook it and make the panicking worse.

However, that didn't really work. 

Ponk’s shoe crunched against a stick, and that was the end. The deer’s head, which was previously obscured by a nearby tree, turned to look at Ponk-

That wasn’t a deer.

That wasn’t a deer.

What the hell was that?!

Ponk screamed, stumbling backwards- right into a tree, just his luck. The folder fell from under his arm as Ponk pushed further into the tree attempting to get away from the thing.

The not-a-deer seemed to be just as scared as he was, scrambling to its legs and thrashing with a renewed strength in the bear trap. It was clearly trying to get away, as if Ponk  was the threat and not the creature itself.

Because the thing about the not-deer is that… Well…

The thing had the body of a deer, sure. Four deer-like legs, brown fur, even a little tail. It looked normal about chest-down. The top half, however… Well, where a neck should be, there wasn’t a neck. It was a chest. A human chest- which led up to human shoulders and human arms and a human neck and head. 

I was a… Century- centurion- centaur! The thing was a centaur! A deer centaur! A creature which absolutely did not exist. 

Ponk stared at the thing as he tried to catch his breath, watching as it thrashed harder and harder in the bear trap. It was absolutely tearing up its ankle. It had lost blood before, sure, but now new red droplets littered the leaves and foliage around it. The trap was scraping its teeth hard against the thing’s ankle, too. It would probably leave a scar and Ponk would honestly be surprised if the creature would even be able to put weight on it if it were to get out.

But hey, it had three other legs, it would be fine. Right?

Yeah, okay, Ponk wasn’t stupid. Sure, he might be hallucinating in the middle of a forest- that was really the only clear answer to why he was seeing what he was- but he couldn't just leave it here.

Well, he could, actually. The thing was held in place by the bear trap, it would be super easy to leave. But morally… 

Ponk took a final deep breath and stepped forward. It wasn’t a big surprise when the creature only freaked out more because of that.

“Hey now- look, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said softly, carefully creeping towards the creature. ‘Beast’ almost felt like an appropriate word.

The thing turned its head towards Ponk, which let Ponk get a good look at its face. It was surprisingly pale, small freckles dotting its face and trailing down to his shoulders. Green eyes were wide in fear. It had surprisingly short blonde hair, stained slightly green, probably from moss or some other kind of greenery it had rolled around in.

Ponk took another step forward. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m practically harmless.”

It had antlers. Antlers! Not huge ones like a buck or anything, just… Two short sprouts of bone coming out maybe five inches above his head, each with an even smaller offshoot towards the left and right of his head respectively. They looked almost like small tree branches attached to its head, but Ponk knew better than that. They were definitely attached to its head.

“You’re lucky I found you. I’m a doctor, I can help. Just don’t… Trample me or whatever.”

Ponk was right next to it now, close enough he could reach out and touch it if he wanted. He didn’t, though. That would be stupid. He kept his eyes trained on the creature’s face, looking for any semblance of understanding. He didn’t even know if the thing spoke any sort of human language- probably not, considering it wasn’t talking.

But its eyes narrowed slightly- not in anger, more like… Like how a cat does when they like you. Not that Ponk would know. He hates cats- but that’s besides the point. The point was that Ponk was pretty sure that this thing wasn’t going to trample him.

So slowly he sunk down to one knee, glancing up at the deer thing one more time. It was staring back down at him with wide eyes. He could see it shift uncomfortably.

“Don’t do that, stoopid. You’re going to make it worse. Just… Stay still.”

The creature stopped shifting.

Great. Great. This was fine. He brought his hands down to the trap slowly, trying to figure out how to open it. He had seen a video on it once, on some survival tv channel or whatever, but he couldn’t remember exactly how. He would look it up now, but he had no doubt that the internet did not reach this far into the forest. 

There was a long loop of metal on either side of the trap, almost like a ribbon except so much thicker than fabric. Well, duh, it was made of metal. Titanium, maybe? 

The trap was so large that Ponk had to stretch a bit to actually reach both of the ribbon-like offshoots. It was a little uncomfortable, but he was pretty sure this was what he was supposed to do. Even if it wasn’t, it’s not like he could make the creature’s situation any worse. Well. He probably couldn’t make the creature’s situation any worse.

“Okay, I’m gonna open it now-” he hoped, “-when I do, I need you to pull your leg out. Okay?”

No response. He wasn’t really expecting one. He was pretty sure it would be instinctual to pull the leg out once the trap was open, anyway.

It took more force to open the trap than he was expecting, which, looking back, made sense. Of course it wasn’t going to be easy to open a huge bear trap, but it felt… Dangerous. Like a safety hazard. Who was even hunting bears out here anyway? Were there even bears in this forest? He’d have to ask Puffy.

He pressed down harder, having to practically lean over and put his entire weight on it for the jaws to slowly creak open.

Ponk was right- pulling its leg out was instinctual. As soon as the jaws were open, the thing ripped its leg out and stumbled forward. Ponk, just glad to not have to hold it open much longer, let the jaws slam shut loudly.

The creature took off running.

Or, it tried to. Maybe that ankle had been hurt worse than Ponk thought, because it didn’t take off running. It managed to step with its front foot, but as soon as the weight transferred to that back foot, it completely collapsed.

Kind of like- well, exactly like when you see a baby deer fall when learning to walk. Or more like a baby giraffe, maybe, because this thing was really tall. He guessed the whole deer bottom half probably added height, but still. 

It let out a noise of pain, squeezing its eyes shut for just a second before using its human arms to shove itself to its feet.

Another attempt to run. Another fall.

“Woah! Chill out, man! You’re gonna hurt yourself more like that. Stop it.”

The creature absolutely did not listen. It took another three tries before it realized it wasn’t going to get away and turned back to Ponk.

He could see its chest tremble as it took shaky, fearful breaths.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Can I take a look at your leg?” At this point Ponk wasn’t expecting much. Clearly the thing was more animal than human, but… It still had a human face. And chest and arms- the point was that it was still partially human. Maybe. Ponk was pretty sure.

To his surprise, the creature tilted its head slightly, as if considering Ponk’s words. Then it lowered its head, less in a nod and more… Submission. As if it was giving up fighting.

“Again, not gonna hurt you, stoopid. But you can barely walk, so…” 

This was really happening. There was a real, actual centaur in front of him. Ponk probably should’ve been freaking out more, but it was like his doctor instincts kicked in. He couldn't just leave this thing- this person- out here while knowing it was so badly hurt. 

Ponk walked forward slowly before kneeling by the creature’s back leg.

“I’m Ponk, by the way,” Ponk said as he carefully examined the leg. It was… Pretty bad. The bone didn’t look broken, but judging by how the thing walked, it was definitely fractured, if not worse.  Plus the skin was badly torn up, blood soaking the fur around the ankle. 

Ponk very carefully pressed two fingers just above the wound.

The creature hissed- less like a cat and more like someone trying not to cry out in pain- immediately jerking his foot up and close to its body. It very nearly kicked Ponk in the face, missing by just a few inches.

Ponk quickly moved backwards to avoid any injury. “It’s fractured,” he explained.

The creature looked at him, clearly confused. 

“The bone is messed up. I could treat it, but I’d need to go and get my stuff from my house.”

It nodded.

Ponk blinked up at it, confused by the reaction.

The creature then very gingerly lifted his arm and gestured in the direction of the town (not that it was visible from where they were). Oh. It was saying that Ponk should go get his stuff.

“Okay, okay. You stay right here, I’ll be right back.” Ponk stood, brushing the dirt off the knees of his pants. Then he turned and began to walk.

It wasn’t long before he heard crunching leaves behind him. He turned to see the creature, frozen in place, but it was obvious what it was doing. It was following him.

“No, you stay here. Your ankle’s already busted,” Ponk commanded, turning and beginning to walk again.

Not even five seconds went by before the creature began following him again.

Ponk glanced back and sent it a glare, but that didn’t stop it from following. The thing had to push tree branches out of its way as it walked, just a little too tall for some of the lowest hanging branches.

Ponk huffed, speeding up just a little. It wasn’t like the thing could do anything if it found out where Ponk lived, but it seemed… Weird. Plus it wasn’t supposed to be walking on that ankle- that was obvious by the tempo of its walk. It was clearly limping, not that Ponk would point it out.

They weren’t too far away from Ponk’s house, which was good. When they finally did arrive, Ponk set a hard glare on the creature. 

“I’m serious now, you wait right here.” They were right in front of the steps leading to the back door, right into the doctor’s office section of the house. “You won’t fit through the door, don’t even try. I’ll be back in two seconds.”

And with that, Ponk entered the house. It was more like ten minutes as he searched for and gathered all that he needed. Disinfectant, bandages, thicker bandages to make some sort of a splint, a needle, and suture thread. 

The creature hadn’t moved from its spot when Ponk came back out, thank goodness. Ponk didn’t know what he would’ve done if it tried to get through the door.

“Normally I’d tell my patients to sit down, but I think you’ll have to stay standing,” Ponk said, kneeling down next to the leg again. Maybe he should’ve brought a chair.

The creature was turned slightly in a way that must’ve been uncomfortable, to get a better look at what Ponk was doing.

He had just soaked a rag with antiseptic, about to press it to the wound, when he heard it speak.

“You’re very pretty.”

For what felt like the hundredth time since he moved to L’manburg, Ponk yelped, dropping the bottle of antiseptic to the ground. It was spilling into the dirt but he couldn't find himself to care at the moment.

Once again, the creature shifted nervously. “I’m sorry-”

“You can talk?!” Ponk exclaimed, staring up at its- his- face. 

“Um…”

“You’ve been able to talk the whole time and you just didn’t? My goodness- what is wrong with you?”

He blinked down at Ponk, almost confused. “My ankle is fractured.”

“Yeah, I know your ankle is fractured, that’s not- you are so…”

The creature bit his lip, eyes casting down to the ground. “I’m so what?”

Ponk thought for a moment. “Weird.” He picked up the nearly empty antiseptic bottle. That was 100% this creature’s fault. “Stay still, this is gonna hurt.”

And with that, he pressed the rag to the creature’s ankle just a little harsher than necessary. It was payback for scaring him earlier. And then scaring him again. And then again… Ponk may just get startled easily.

There was a brief moment of silence before Ponk spoke up, unable to stand it. “This is real, right?”

“Huh?” The creature asked, confused.

“This… You. You’re real? I’m not dreaming?” Ponk looked up at the creature’s face, still trying to clean out the wound.

The creature nodded. “I’m real.”

A beat, then, “What exactly are you?”

“I am Sam.”

Sam. A name. A weirdly human name, but sure, why not. “Sam,” Ponk repeated, testing the name in his mouth. 

“Sam,” Sam repeated, “and you are Ponk.”

“Mhm… And I’m a human. And you are..?” he tried, hoping to coax out an answer so he wouldn’t have to stop thinking of him as a ‘creature’. 

Sam thought for a moment, as if trying to remember. “I’m a cervitaur.”

Ponk actually paused at that, pulling the rag away. “A what?”

“A cervitaur.”

Ponk scrunched up his nose, turning his attention back to the injury instead. Somehow that was easier to look at than the cervitaur’s face. “You need stitches, Sam.”

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “That doesn’t sound necessary-”

“It’s necessary.” Ponk had dealt with enough annoying clients to be able to fight back. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “It’ll be fast. You’ll hardly even feel it.”

He wasn’t even wrong. The stitches weren’t the easiest thing to do as Sam’s skin was a lot thinner than anything Ponk had given stitches to before, but he managed. The worst rips were stitched back together, and then the whole thing was bandaged over- first with gauze bandages, then with elastic bandages, to try and help with the fracture. 

Ponk may have used a little more bandages than he needed, but in his defense, it seemed like this guy was going to run a lot, and he didn’t want it slipping off accidentally. 

“You’ll need to come back in three days so I can replace these bandages,” Ponk said, as if he was speaking to a normal client and not some half-deer man he had found in the woods.

Sam frowned. “Three days?”

Ponk made a face. “Do you know what a day is, stoopid?” 

“...I know what a day is.”

“Then you come back in three. Otherwise it gets infected and makes everything worse. And it’ll take a couple weeks for the fracture to heal, so you keep that bandage on, got it?”

Sam looked confused, but nodded anyway. 

“Oh, and one more thing,” Ponk added, standing up to face Sam.

Sam looked at him curiously.

“Don’t walk into any more bear traps.”

And with that, the cervitaur limped back into the forest.

And Ponk went back inside. He needed to make sure the files were sorted, anyway. 

It wasn’t like Ponk just forgot about the incident. It wasn’t every day you come across a deer centaur- what had Sam called himself? A cervitaur? It wasn’t every day you came across something like that, but… Even if it was real, which Ponk was seriously doubting, it wasn’t like he could do anything about it.

The creature was gone. There was literally no proof of it ever being there. If he wanted to talk to someone in the town about it, they’d obviously think he was crazy. So the best thing to do was just… Go about his day. Or, in this case, go back to cleaning.

After a few more hours of cleaning, and some serious handwashing to get all the dust off of his hands, he sat down to have lunch. Leftovers of that casserole Puffy brought over. He’d have to go to the grocery store later, but he was honestly dreading it. It was tiny, and there was no way it carried all- if any- of the brands he liked. He knew it was pretty useless to complain about it, but still, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. 

He did eventually end up going to the grocery store. He had a nice little talk with the cashier, a town native who had thought it funny he didn’t know anyone in the town yet. 

“You really don’t know anyone?” The boy laughed. He couldn’t be much more than sixteen, which Ponk guessed explained his audacity.

Ponk made a face. “I moved here a day ago, kid-” 

“Tubbo,” the kid interrupted.

Ponk took a deep breath. “I moved here a day ago, Tubbo, of course I don’t know anyone yet.”

Tubbo tilted his head towards the stack of groceries piling up on the other side of the scanner. “You have to bag those yourself. But seriously, no one? That’s-”

“I know Puffy.” He moved over and began to bag his own groceries. He guessed it made sense that there weren’t enough people in town to provide everyone their own bagger, but… Still. 

Tubbo’s face shifted slightly when he heard Puffy’s name. Not quite in disgust, but almost like he had just eaten something sour and was trying to hide it. “Puffy introduced herself to you?”

“Yeah, brought me a whole casserole and everything. She seems really nice.”

“Oh…”

Ponk frowned. “You have a problem with that?”

Tubbo quickly shook his head, going back to that almost neutral expression. “Nope! Nothing wrong with it, big man!”

Ponk blinked. “Big-”

“Okay, your total is $63.29, do you wanna pay in cash or-”

“Card is fine.”

And with that, Ponk was stocked up on groceries. It took longer than he expected to restock his kitchen- especially finding cabinets to put them all in. Spices, rice, flour, junk food. It all needed a place. But after a while of organizing he managed to get it done.

He had just sat down on the couch to rest when his doorbell rang.

Yeah, that made sense. He had to light candles at light because none of the lights worked- and he had even bought new light bulbs and still nothing- but his doorbell worked. Great, just great.

He actually sat sunk down on the couch for a moment longer. Maybe if he ignored it it would just go away.

It didn’t, of course. Instead, there was a loud knock against the door. Once, twice, four times.

Ponk pushed himself to his feet with a groan and trudged his way to the door.

He was half expecting Puffy, but no, it wasn’t here.

Instead it was two teenagers- both a little older than the kid at the grocery store, but not by that much. Okay, maybe they were young adults, Ponk couldn’t really tell.

On the left was a girl, pale with platinum blonde hair fading into pink at the ends. She was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and had her arm linked around through the shoulders of the shorter person next to her, as if she was holding them up.

The person next to them was a guy, about an inch or two shorter than the girl, the most notable feature about him was his circular glasses, though one lens was cracked. Oh, and maybe the very short hair, making his ears appear to stick out and making him look nearly bald. He wore jeans ripped at the knees and a camouflage jacket. He was currently clutching a hand to his nose, though blood seeped through his fingers and onto his shirt.

“Are you the new doctor?” The girl asked. Her voice was quiet and softly accented. Not from this town, then.

Ponk nodded, looking between the two. “Yeah, do you- come in.” He stepped back, opening the door wider for them both to get in.

She had to practically push the guy in, who stumbled at the movement. He looked less dazed and more uncoordinated, which was good. He probably didn’t have a concussion. Maybe. Ponk would still have to check.

“The doctor’s office is right back here,” Ponk murmured, shutting the front door and leading them to the back. “Try not to get blood on my floors.”

It was too late for that. The guy was leaving a little trail. Gross. 

Once the guy was sitting on the examination table, Ponk thrust a handful of tissues into his hand. 

“Put those to your nose. Keep your head straight- don’t lean your head back, stupid! I said to keep it straight.” If Ponk hadn’t been trained so well, he would’ve grabbed the guy’s head and made it level himself. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to. The girl did it for him- thank goodness for her. Okay, maybe the guy did have a concussion, since he couldn't listen to the most basic instructions.

Ponk sighed. “Okay, any life-threatening conditions or can I ask a few questions first?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” the girl said. 

“Okay, okay, first question,” Ponk grabbed a nearby clipboard and a report form. “What’s your name?”

“Oi you prick! You don’t-“ the guy started shouting, but was quickly cut off. 

“His name is Jack. Jack Manifold. Sorry, he’s in a bad mood right now. I’m Niki Nihachu.”

Ponk nodded, scribbling the name down. “Jack… Manifold… Okay, and you’re in here ‘cause of the nose, obviously,”

Jack nodded. He was glaring at Ponk, or maybe that was just him squinting his eyes in pain.

“Here, put the tissue under your chin so the tissues will catch the blood dripping down.” 

Jack did so, letting Ponk get a better look at the mess that was the kid’s face. Yeah, mess was definitely the right word. Blood so dark it was nearly a maroon color was smeared all over the lower half of his face, coming primarily from his nose. Speaking of which, his nose was just slightly bent to the side. 

“Yeah, your nose is broken,” Ponk said nonchalantly, going to sort through his drawers for gloves, gauze, and medical tape.

“What?” Jack shouted incredulously.

Ponk rolled his eyes. Patients were always so dramatic. “Bro-ken.” He said each syllable separately to really emphasize it, still speaking casually. He then dropped the gloves, gauze, and tape on the table next to Jack. 

“Broken? Niki, you broke my nose-”

“I did not break your nose-” She interrupted.

“You did! You broke my f-”

Ponk left the room to get ice.

He didn’t technically have any ice packs yet- he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d have to order some for the doctor’s office- did mail even come all the way out here?- but for now, regular ice in a ziplock baggie would do the trick. 

They were still arguing when Ponk got back. Niki was saying that Jack ran into a tree and that the tree broke his nose, not her. Jack was saying that it didn’t matter because it was her fault he ran into the tree in the first place.

Ponk pulled the gloves on, careful not to rip them. He’d rather not have blood on either of his hands, natural or bionic. 

When there was a slight lull in the argument, Ponk took his chance to change the topic.

“So, do you hunt?” He asked Jack, using a wipe to get rid of most of the dried blood from Jack’s face. It looked a lot better now and Ponk hadn’t even reset his nose yet.

Jack scrunched his nose up in confusion. “Huh?”

Ponk used his head to gesture to Jack’s jacket. “Camouflage. Isn’t that a hunter thing?”

“I mean… Yeah, but not here. The nearest good place to hunt is like, two hours away.”

Ponk paused, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Hunting is illegal here, y’know?” Jack shrugged. “You get major fines for it. Something about protecting local wildlife or whatever.”

“So if someone set a bear trap out here or something..?” Ponk prompted.

Jack rolled his eyes. “You thinkin’ about setting bear traps, man? You won’t catch anything, there aren’t any bears out here. And, again, hunting is super illegal anyways.”

Ponk nodded slowly. He… had more questions to ask about that. But first, “I’m going to reset your nose now. Try not to move your head too much.”

“You what-”

“On the count of three.”

“Wait-”

“One,” Ponk moved gloves hands up to either side of Jack’s nose.

Jack’s eyes were wide. “No, hang on-”

“Two.”

Jack couldn’t get a full syllable out before Ponk jerked his nose to the right, effectively clicking it back in place. Maybe it was the shock or maybe Jack had a high pain tolerance, but he didn’t scream. He just struggled to breathe through the pain. 

Ponk pressed the ice pack to Jack’s nose lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough that the ice could do its thing and dull the pain.

As Jack paused, waiting for the pain to lessen, Ponk thought to himself. 

So clearly, the whole cervitaur thing was just a dream. A weird dream brought on by huffing all the fumes of whatever expired meds were in that doctor’s office. Ponk made a mental note to double check the expiration dates of all his supplies, because that dream was weirdly vivid.

Obviously it was just a dream, though. The whole premise made no sense- a raccoon- that wasn’t even the right color- running all the way into his office? Very unlikely.. Even if the door was open (which was beginning to think wasn’t true), it wasn’t raining or cold, so the raccoon had no reason to come in to avoid the elements. And even if it had come in, it had no reason to grab the files. Plus, Ponk’s movement would’ve scared it off.

So it was a dream. A weird, expired-medicine-fume induced dream, but nothing more. And as weird as it was, he managed to put it out of the back of his mind. It was probably just his brain trying to make the small town look worse than it actually was.

Niki tapped him on the shoulder, nearly making him jump. 

“Do you have more tissues?” She asked.

A quick glance at Jack confirmed he definitely needed them.

“Right, here-” Ponk, still wearing gloves, pried Jack’s hands away from his face. He pressed a piece of gauze underneath his nose before using the medical tape to tape it there so the kid wouldn't have to hold it under his nose while waiting for the bleeding to stop.

Jack coughed quietly, clearly not a fan of having to breathe through his mouth. “Why’re you so interested in hunting?” 

Ponk thought for a moment, considering telling them about the cervitaur, but… No, they’d think he was crazy. And the last thing he needed was the local teenagers spreading rumors about the new town doctor being crazy. That was a good way for him to lose all business whatsoever. 

“I thought I saw a bear trap in the forest yesterday,” he said with a shrug, as nonchalantly as possible. At that point, he pulled the gloves off, discarded them in the biohazard bin (along with all the bloody tissues), and went back to filling out the report. Writing about Jack’s broken nose and what he did to fix it.

Jack glanced over at Niki, then back to Ponk. “You’d want to report that to the sheriff so he can dispose of it properly.”

Ponk raised an eyebrow. “Dispose of it?”

“I think he keeps them in the evidence locker or whatever. Maybe he sells them, I don’t know. Look, ma’am, am I good to go now?”

Ponk rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re good to go.”

Jack jumped off of the examination table, Niki immediately throwing an arm around his shoulders. He looked just a little funny next to her, since he was so scrawny and shorter than her. The gauze taped underneath his nose certainly wasn’t helping. 

Niki gave Ponk a nervous smile. “Is there anything we need to do to help… Uh…” She gave up and just gestured to Jack.

“Keep the gauze on it for another two or three hours. If it’s still bleeding after that, come back here. Use ice packs and tylenol for the pain.” He thought for a moment, recalling what he could about broken noses. “It should heal on its own, but if it’s too much pain or starts swelling, you can come back here. Oh! And popsicles- eat popsicles. It’ll help with the bleeding.”

Jack nodded. He kept the ice pack pressed tight against his nose.

And with that, Ponk led them through the house and out the front door. And if he heard the murmuring about how weird he was before he fully closed the door, he ignored it.

He met several… Colorful characters over the next few days. Tubbo, the cashier, came by once- though he wasn’t hurt, he just brought over a loaf of bread his mother had cooked for Ponk. Other than that, there was. Skeppy, who had gotten in an incident with hedge clippers, Wilbur, who had fallen into the lake and hit his head, and a few other people Ponk couldn’t bother to learn the names of.

Familiar faces were common, he realized. Jack came back the next day because he was worried he had gotten a stick stuck in his eye (he hadn’t, it was just irritation). Puffy had visited twice to help him sort through files. And…

That raccoon. Okay, technically he didn’t know that it was the same one, but he was certain it was the one that stole his files. After all, how many blonde raccoons could really live in this forest? Certainly not very many, especially not since it was such a light color. Aren’t raccoons gray and black for, like, camouflage or something?

Yeah, yeah, the file thing was all a dream, but maybe the raccoon was real. He had seen it and his hallucination led him from there. Or, or- okay, he didn’t know. But it stared at him through his window at night, he was certain of it. Even though he liked to keep the curtains pulled open, he tended to close them to keep that raccoon from peering in. It was creepy, frankly, and Ponk didn’t want anything to do with it.

Maybe the candlelight coming from his home was attracting the thing. Or maybe the old doctor used to feed the thing and it was expecting the same treatment from Ponk. Unfortunately, Ponk wasn’t caving and he was not going to feed this little creature. 

He was taking inventory of the doctor’s office that night- his fourth night since moving in. Yeah, he had been through and organized everything already, but he wanted to make sure he knew what he had and exactly how much of what he had. Thus, taking inventory.

And yeah, taking inventory by candlelight wasn’t the easiest thing to do. He needed to ask Puffy if she knew any electricians, because he just couldn’t read the tiny labels in the dim light. Ponk was about to give up for the night and go to bed when he heard a quiet knock at the door.

He wasn’t sure how a knock could sound timid, but this one did. As if the person behind it wasn’t sure if they actually wanted to knock or not.

Ponk glanced up at the clock. Eleven-thirty. Who would even be awake at this hour? Okay, yeah, he was the town doctor and people got hurt at all times of the day, but usually they’d knock on the front door, not the back one (even if that was the one that technically led into his office. 

Ponk opened the door carefully, half-expecting no one to be there by the time he got to it. But no, he wasn’t that lucky. 

Standing at the door was a certain familiar person- if one could even call him that. Green eyes, antlers poking through moss-stained hair. Shifting back and forth between his four, deer-like legs. 

“You,” Ponk breathed out, staring at the creature in front of him.

Okay, not a hallucination then. Yeah, yeah, this was real. And maybe in the back of his mind, Ponk always knew it. It wasn’t like him to have vivid dreams, and none of the expired medicines really had any effect just by smelling it, but still. It was easier to believe that than that there was an actual cryptid living in the forest behind his house.

Sam blinked at him, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “Me,” he replied, glancing behind Ponk and into the doctor’s office. 

“You’re… Real.” Ponk said, taking a small step backwards.

Sam nodded. “Yeah…”

Silence washed over them for just a moment. “Why are you here?”

“You said to come back in three days,” Sam explained gently, “It’s been three days.”

Ponk shut his eyes tight just for a moment. Maybe when he opened them, the creature would be gone… Yeah, no such success.

“Are you okay, Ponk?”

“I’m fine. Can you..” He started to question, but trailed off quickly. “Stay there.” And he slammed the door.

Great, great, the deer thing was back. And it was real. And… Hunting was illegal. So who the hell had put up a bear trap? And why? It was really none of Ponk’s business, but he was still curious. 

He grabbed more antiseptic and new bandages. Yeah, it felt ridiculous to be treating a mythical creature, but what else was he supposed to do? He was a doctor. Granted, he was a doctor, not a vet, but still. He couldn't just let this guy suffer, especially considering he was still technically a sentient being.

Sam was still there when Ponk opened the door, so Ponk walked right out, closing the door gently behind him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be back,” he murmured, kneeling down next to Sam’s back leg. He was surprised to see the bandages were still on, even though much dirtier than before.

Sam hummed slightly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“What, there are no cervitaur doctors in this forest?” Ponk asked, practically mocking.

Sam shook his head. “No, no cervitaurs at all, really.”

Ponk paused unwrapping the bandages to look up at Sam. “You’re the only one?”

“I’m sure there are others like me… Somewhere. But not here. They all left or they were… They all left.”

Ponk frowned, going back to unwrapping bandages. The cuts had healed about as well as he thought it would, and though it would still need re-cleaned, it would be alright overall. “Why didn’t you go with them, huh?”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “I had to stay for- Tommy!”

Ponk paused, letting the used bandages drop to the floor. “Huh?”

Before Sam could answer, Ponk watched something bound up towards him. Sam folded his front legs slightly, almost kneeling, his hands outstretched. It looked ridiculous, but-

Oh you have got to be kidding.

There was that raccoon again, running up and climbing into Sam’s arms. Sam straightened until he was standing upright again. 

Ponk looked between the raccoon and Sam. “You two… Know each other?”

Sam’s smile fell quickly. “No.”

“You called him Tommy.”

Sam’s smile fell further, turning into a frown. “I name all the animals.”

“You can’t name them if you’ve never met them,” he pointed out.

Sam took a deep breath. “You won’t hurt him, will you?”

“Tempting,” Ponk mused, but it was just a joke. “He stole my files the day I found you.”

Sam gave Ponk a sheepish look as the raccoon scurried on to his back, seemingly trying to get a better look at what Ponk was doing. “He was trying to get me help. I told him not to, but he didn’t listen.”

“He’s a raccoon, so…” Ponk made a face, cleaning up the old wounds before beginning to re-bandage them. 

Sam didn’t say anything in reply, too focused on watching the raccoon.

“Why wouldn’t you want help?”

Sam squirmed slightly as Ponk’s fingers brushed over his leg, despite the fact Ponk had been touching him nearly their entire conversation. “He wanted to get a human.”

“He did get a human,” Ponk pointed out.

“Humans are dangerous,” Sam said softly.

“And you’re not?”

Sam paused, only for a moment. “I’m not a monster, Ponk.”

“You’re a six-foot-something half-deer who lives in the woods behind my house.”

Sam flinched slightly. “I’m not- I’m not a monster,” he repeated, just a little more firmly now.

The raccoon leaned towards Ponk slightly, letting out a low hiss sound.

“Okay, I believe you,” Ponk said, putting his hands up in defeat in an attempt to placate the raccoon. Surprisingly, it worked; the thing stepped backwards, skittering up Sam’s back instead. 

“I’m not dangerous, really,” Sam murmured, watching as Ponk began to clean the wound. It wasn’t that bad, he just had to get the last bits of dried blood.

Ponk hummed. “I bet. But humans are?”

“Humans have guns. Dogs,” he paused, then with a shudder, added, “bear traps.”

“You don’t have weapons?” 

“I don’t deem anything dangerous enough to hunt.” Sam shrugged. 

“I see… Well, humans have lots of threats. Bears, for instance. They’ve got big claws and they’re, like, a thousand pounds. Can kill a human in seconds. That’s probably what the bear trap that you fell in was there for.”

Sam’s expression soured. “There are no bears in this forest, Ponk.”

Ponk frowned. He had just begun to wrap the new bandage around Sam’s ankle. “I’ve heard. Jack said the same thing.”

“Jack?”

“Some local kid. Broke his nose the other day, so I fixed him up.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “Do you deal with broken things all day?”

“Well, I’m a doctor, so…” The new bandage was finished. He wrapped another thicker bandage around that, something to keep the gauze from falling as well as his leg more stable.

“Oh… And doctors… Help people?”

Ponk gave him a look. “I make sure people don’t die.”

“And creatures,” Sam pointed out.

Ponk hesitated for a moment. “Are you… Not a person..?”

“I’m a cervitaur. I’m not human.”

“Yeah, but you’re sentient. It’s not like you’re an animal.” There was real irony in that considering Ponk was bandaging his very-much deer-like leg. 

Sam just snorted in response, as if what Ponk said was meant to be a joke. It wasn’t. He didn’t clarify that, though.

“You’ll have to come back in a few more days for me to change the bandages one more time. By then the stitches should be about ready to take out.”

Sam nodded. “I can do that.”

“Okay. Bye, then.” He thought for a moment longer, about what Sam had said about humans and what Jack had said about hunting… Just in case, he tacked on a little, “Stay safe, Sam.”

And Sam left.

Sam did end up coming back to get those stitches removed. His leg had healed quickly in the week or so since the bear trap incident. Faster than Ponk thought it would, anyway. Maybe it was a deer thing. Or a cervitaur thing. Either way, it made Ponk’s job easier.

And that was the last time Ponk saw Sam.

Things ran smoothly after that. Yeah, that raccoon still looked through his windows sometimes, but it was less now. Ponk didn’t have a crazy deer-man coming to his house in the middle of the night.

Ponk dealt with a lot of different ailments over the next two months or so. Colds, the flu, allergies, and, of course, actual injuries. A kid with curly blonde hair came in with a broken arm once. Jack came back a few times- almost always with injuries from fights. Black eyes, busted lips, et cetera. Ponk wondered what his parents had to think about it.

But overall, it was quiet. Nice, even. Ponk spent his free time gazing at the forest behind his house, participating in community events, and the like. Of course, free time was sporadic- he never knew when someone would need him to fix a broken bone or deliver a child. Thank god the second thing hadn’t happened yet, but you could never be too sure. There was rumor that some girl named Sally- who Ponk had yet to meet- was pregnant. But until she came to him to get a checkout, it wasn’t his problem. 

Nope, his only problems were his actual patients. And usually they weren’t that bad.

Usually.

It was storming the night it happened. That should’ve been his first sign that something was going wrong. The rain thumped hard against the roof of his house. It was pouring something dreadful. So bad, in fact, that a leak had developed in the roof. He had set a large bucket underneath and had been emptying it out every hour or so. 

Thunder clapped overhead, making Ponk jump. He turned to his window, the curtains open, just in time to see a streak of lightning.

He already knew he was getting no sleep tonight. So he lit a candle, pulled up a nice medical textbook, and settled down on his couch for some reading.

He almost mistook the sound for more thunder. Of course it didn’t really make sense, the sound was too close, not nearly loud enough, and far too frantic to be thunder. But still, just for a moment, he thought it was. Until he realized it was knocking- from the backdoor, not the front.

Sam.

Oh, Sam! He must’ve gotten scared in the storm- the poor guy was probably soaking wet and-

Oh.

Not Sam.

Ponk had opened the door to see three men. One on either side, holding up the man in the middle. The one on the left he recognized as Sapnap, one of the chefs at the diner. Hair soaked, only being pushed out of his face due to a white bandana tied around his forehead. Ponk and he had some pretty bland conversations, but they weren’t close. He was holding three shotguns in his free arm.

In the middle, being held up by the men on either side of him, was someone Ponk didn’t recognize. He had a softer face, round cheeks, and black hair that would’ve looked nice if it hadn’t been plastered to his forehead due to the pouring rain.

On the right was a man Ponk had only barely heard of in passing. Dream. The sheriff. Ponk had heard descriptions of him, and they were pretty accurate. Green eyes that glinted even in the low light of Ponk’s single candle, freckles dusting his cheeks, dirty blonde hair.

They were all covered in mud, the bottom of the man in the middle’s shirt was stained a deeper color that looked brown in the light but looked more like brown in the low light.

Ponk didn’t know what to say. But he didn’t have to, as Sapnap spoke.

“Can we come in? It’s an emergency.” He didn’t even wait for an answer, shoving his way through the door, Dream and the other guy being forced to follow. 

Ponk took in a quick, sharp breath, trying to decide what to do. “Stay right there,” he said quickly, “I’ll go get towels before you get everything soaked. Close the door.”

After a moment, he came back with towels, tossing one to each man, as well as one on the floor and another on the examination table. He lit the lanterns he had set up in the doctor’s office for the occasional night visitor.

The middle guy was the one laid- not sat- on the examination table.

“What happened?”

Sapnap and Dream exchanged looks, a silent argument of whether or not they should tell him.

But Ponk wasn’t playing games. “What happened, stupid? I’m a doctor, I have confidentiality. Your friend’s gonna die if you don’t say.”

That wasn’t even totally a lie. The guy did look pretty pale. And he wasn’t talking, which was another bad sign. Concussion, then? Hypothermia? Something, clearly, that made the three trek all the way out here in the rain.

It was Dream who spoke, quiet, but more so in embarrassment than anything else. “He got shot.”

Ponk was going to kill someone. Probably Dream for not telling her sooner. He’d have time to yell at him later, though, she needed to act fast. “Where?”

“His stomach.”

Ponk’s heart dropped.

This was bad.

This was very bad. Ponk had never even treated a gunshot wound before! He barely even knew how he was supposed to treat one! And even then, who knows how much he would actually be able to do with the few supplies and tools available to him. But he had no choice, did he?

Was this really what he signed up for when he applied for this job? Technically, sure. But emotionally? Absolutely not.

Ponk grabbed scissors, antiseptic, and forceps. This was going to be rough, mostly for Dream. 

“I ran out of pain meds yesterday so this is gonna suck for you,” he said bluntly.

The man’s eyes actually went wide at that. “Wait- this is a bad idea. Dream, let’s go-”

“You have a bullet in you, George. You can’t just leave it!” Sapnap shouted.

“Sure I can.” George began to struggle to sit up, only to be forced back down by Sapnap.

Ponk sighed. “You’re gonna be fine if you let me do my job. Sit still.”

The first thing he did was cut away his shirt. Bloody, covered in mud, and it had a hole from the bullet already. It wasn’t like he was the first person who ruined it- no, that was all on George. And maybe on whoever shot him.

The bullet wasn’t too deep, luckily. If Ponk held the candle over the wound just right, he could barely see the glint of it. It wasn’t good by any means, but what gunshot wound was? Exactly. 

It was going to hurt a ton. Ponk made sure to not mention that to any of the men standing in front of him. He could tell that that just wouldn't go well. Instead, he gave George a rag to bite down on, had Sapnap hold the candle over the wound, and took careful hold of the forceps. 

It wasn’t easy to maneuver, especially considering how delicate the wound was and the low light settings. He could manage, because he was a professional, but it wasn’t easy.

Slowly, he dipped the forceps into the wound. Immediately, George flinched, trying to arch his back and get away from the pain. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really anywhere for him to go, other than further against the examination table. Ponk pushed the forceps further, slowly, slowly, until they were touching the bullet. He closed them tightly around the bullet- it was smaller than he thought- and even more slowly, pulled it out of the wound. He let the forceps and bullet clatter in the small metal pan next to him, grabbing gauze and pressing it hard against the wound before too much blood could spurt out.

Getting the bullet out was honestly the hardest part. After a quick check he decided that it hadn’t hit any major arteries or organs, which was good. It meant that after some quick sanitizing and stitching, George would be fine. 

After Ponk finished the process, he crossed his arms, glaring down at George. His face was still splattered with mud, eyes exhausted, hair a mess. The only clean part of him were the bandages wrapped around his torso. 

“Who shot you?” Ponk repeated firmly.

George grimaced. “I don’t have to say-”

“I’m your doctor. You’re gonna tell me right now.”

He honestly didn’t expect it to work. He thought the man would be stubborn as Dream, but apparently not. His words came out fast, rushed together. “We were hunting. It was hard to see in the rain, one of us shot in the wrong direction.”

Ponk noticed Dream’s look out of the corner of his eye- it was… Weird. He looked confused at George’s story at first, then shocked, then… Relieved? 

They were lying.

It was like a voice rang out in Ponk’s head, clear as day, that George was lying. That was why Dream looked confused- because George wasn’t telling the real story. Ponk wasn’t entirely sure why, but he was sure of it.

But why would they lie? 

“I thought hunting was illegal,” Ponk murmured. He didn’t uncross his arms, still staring at the three of them expectantly.

Sapnap sighed. “It-”

“Who told you that?” Dream said, looking down at Ponk confused.

“I live here, too, stupid,” Ponk practically spat at him. “I know the rules of the area.”

“Clearly you don’t, ‘cause hunting is totally legal here.”

Ponk narrowed his eyes.

“There was a huge boom in the deer population a few years back. Me, Sapnap, and George go out every once in a while to try and lower the population. Keep at carrying capacity and all that. I guess you wouldn’t really understand it much, since you’re from the city.”

Ponk made a face. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Then what do you mean?” Dream looked at him innocently.

“Jack said hunting was illegal. Why would he lie?”

Dream actually let out a little laugh. “Jack? The Manifold kid? Of course he’d lie, he’s a kid, Ponk.”

Okay, fair point. Not that Ponk would let Dream know he thought that. “Niki went along with it, too.”

Dream shrugged. “She’s a sweet kid, probably didn’t want to make Jack feel bad. He was probably just trying to prank you or whatever.”

“So… Deer hunting is legal?” Ponk asked.

“Yeah, it is. Trust me, I’d know if it wasn’t. I’m the sheriff.”

“And what about bears? Can people hunt bears?”

Dream’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “Why would anyone hunt for bears out here?”

Ponk shrugged in a mocking recreation of what Dream had done earlier. “I found a bear trap when I first moved in.”

“It was probably old, then. We try to clean up the best we can, but we can’t clean up all the litter out here. No one’s hunting bear.”

“Right…”

“So… Is he good to leave? You stitched everything up, right?” Dream asked rather expectantly.

In all honesty, he was getting on Ponk’s nerves. He would be happy to have him gone. “Yeah. I’ll get you a trash bag or something to put over his bandages. You don’t want those getting wet.”

George made a face to make sure Ponk knew he was not happy with the trash bag idea. Frankly, Ponk didn’t care. 

“You need to rest. Walk home and then don’t leave for a few days. I expect you back in two days for me to check how the wound is healing and make sure it’s not infected. Got it?”

“Got it, Dr. Ponk.”

After the three left, Ponk cleaned the mud and blood out of the office. It was… Really gross. The rain hadn’t let up outside, and-

When was the last time she emptied the rainwater bucket?

Here’s the thing- Ponk wasn’t stupid. He may not be the most eloquent, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew when people were lying to him, and the “hunting is totally legal here” thing was very obviously a lie. Which brought the question- why would the sheriff, of all people, lie?

Were they even hunting deer? Ponk hadn’t seen any deer in that time he was out in that forest…

Well, he had seen one.

Ponk took a deep breath through his nose, letting it out as a sigh. 

He had seen one deer. Half a deer, really. One who called humans dangerous because they had guns.

But that would mean that people other than Ponk had seen Sam. 

And maybe Ponk was just a little disappointed. Not that he would admit it, but he felt just a little bit cheated on. Sam was seeing other people?

He quickly shook that thought from his head. Sam wasn’t seeing other people, Sam was being hunted by other people. 

…They had guns. There were three of them and only one Sam. One Sam, who had specifically said he didn’t have weapons. 

What if they hurt him? What if they killed him? What if there were more people out there hunting right now? There were too many possibilities. Ponk could pretend he didn’t care about Sam as much as he wanted, but he did. Sam was one of the few genuine people in this town who weren’t, well, a child. 

Ponk grabbed a flashlight and pushed open his backdoor, only to be hit with wind, rain, and thunder. He barely even had to close the door, the wind doing most of the work for him. Tomorrow, then. He’d look for Sam tomorrow. And hopefully, between the hunters and the storm, Sam would still be okay and safe.

Ponk didn’t sleep much that night.

The storm had cleared by morning. It left the entire town smelling like rain, and the entire forest was muddy as hell, but Ponk made his way through it anyway. Tennis shoes squelching in the mud, no longer crunching sticks as he walked, just bending them. It was… Really gross. Not to mention, all the bugs and tiny animals were coming out of the woodworks to find food.

He had definitely stepped on a few of the bugs- it’s not like he could be completely careful! But it didn’t matter, all it did was push them into the mud, and they could climb their way out of that afterwards. But seriously, the forest was packed with the things. Worms, beetles, ants, and everything in-between. 

It wasn’t much better in the animal department, either. He was hearing tiny footsteps everywhere. He’d seen several rabbits scurry off when they heard him walking. And he swore he heard a howl in the distance. Were there wolves in this forest? Maybe. He didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.

No, no, the only thing he needed to stay long enough to find was Sam. So he headed in the direction he had seen Sam go last time.

Unfortunately, that direction wasn’t exactly clear. All Ponk really knew was that Sam lived somewhere deeper in the forest, which didn’t say much. If Sam was smart- which he was- he would’ve hidden somewhere in the rain. Maybe in a cave or something? But Ponk hadn’t spotted a single cave around here, so…

So Ponk had no idea. 

He cringed as he stepped through the mud, nearly getting stuck half a dozen times. When he considered himself deep enough in the trees, he started.

Ponk cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. 

“Sam!”

No response.

“Sam!”

Nothing.

“SAM!”

Still nothing. 

He walked a few more yards forward and repeated this process. Then again, then again. Over and over he walked in different directions, shouting for his friend.

Eventually ‘Sam’ turned into nicknames. “Sammy” or even “Sammy Whammy one-two-three”. Of course none of those earned him a response, but he tried. Four hours had passed when Ponk finally considered calling it quits.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find Sam- he did, seriously. But he had a job to get back to, and his feet were soaked, and he was exhausted from searching. If Sam didn’t want to come out, he didn’t have to. And if Sam couldn’t come out… Well, Ponk didn’t know what to do.

Luckily, there was no real difficulty finding his way back. His sneakers had left distinct deep tracks in the mud, and even if he had no tracking experience, Ponk was able to easily follow his footsteps back.

Of course Ponk should’ve expected a patient to be waiting for him on his back porch step. And of course it wasn’t Sam. No, it was the blonde kid who broke his arm. Tommy.

Ponk took a deep breath so he wouldn’t explode at the kid, and pushed his hair back away from his face. 

Next to Tommy was… Well, a young adult. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than Ponk was, thick brown hair the same curl pattern as Tommy. He was wearing a thick brown trench coat in contrast to Tommy’s t-shirt and cargo shorts. It took Ponk a moment to remember his name- Wilbur. 

Wilbur whispered to Tommy, something Ponk couldn’t quite make out but was certainly something rude. Ponk could tell by the way Tommy’s face soured. Then, how he stood up, and shouted,

“Ponk! Dr. Ponk! 

Pond didn’t bother to force a smile onto his face. Last time he had seen Tommy, the kid had bit him, so… Yeah, he didn’t care for the kid that much.

But it was weird Tommy was so excited to see him. “Dr. Ponk!” Tommy shouted again, pushing himself to his feet and taking squelching steps through the mud until he was next to Ponk, beginning to walk in time with him. “Where were you?”

“I was… Getting groceries.” Yeah, way to think fast.

Tommy rolled his eyes.. “You’re a crap liar.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true! We literally saw you walking out of the woods,” Tommy pointed out. And, okay, fair point. Ponk couldn’t exactly argue the truth, especially when they all clearly knew it. 

“Do you need something?” Ponk prompted, finally making it to the steps where Wilbur sat.

Tommy huffed. “What were you doing in the woods?” He demanded. 

Searching for a half deer man. “Nothing.”

Wilbur stood, suddenly, rising to his full height right in front of Ponk. He was… Honestly a little intimidating. Curly brown hair pulled into a tiny ponytail on the back of his head, deep circles under his eyes, and red bruises across his knuckles, clear indication that he had been punching something- or someone- recently.

Wilbur crossed his arms across his chest, glancing at Tommy, who must’ve given him some kind of signal, because Wilbur then spoke. “Were you out hunting, Ponk?”

Ponk blinked. “What?”

“Hunting. Lots of people do it, you know. With guns, knives. Some even have bloodhounds. Do you have a bloodhound, Ponk?”

Ponk blinked a few more times, clearly confused. “What? No. I don’t know what you’re-”

“A group went hunting last night, you know. Who’s to say you’re not part of the group?” Wilbur asked clearly and calmly.

Ponk scowled at him. “That’s stupid. Why would I go hunting in the middle of a storm?”

Wilbur shrugged nonchalantly, as if this was a casual conversation and not a borderline accusation. “Just checking-”

“He obviously didn’t go hunting,” Tommy grumbled. He stomped up the stairs to the back door, trying to open it, but unable to. “You locked it?” he asked, turning back to Ponk.

“Of course I locked it,” Ponk replied.

Tommy scrunched up his nose and tugged on the door harder. “Who locks their doors?”

“I do!” 

“Why?”

“So wild animals like you can’t get in,” Ponk said. “What do you even want in there for?”

“We need to talk.”

Ponk looked him up and down. “Are you hurt?”

Tommy seemed to be thinking for just a minute, as if weighing which answer would get him the result he wanted. Apparently he decided, because he nodded his head fervently. “Yeah, I’m hurt. Let me in your doctor’s office, Dr. Ponk.”

Ponk rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, pushing it forward.

The three entered the doctor’s office, and Ponk closed the door behind them. He thought about locking it, but decided against it. He didn’t need the child making fun of him again. 

“You know about Sam,” Tommy said, suddenly. Ponk turned back just to find Tommy had clambered up onto the examination bed, swinging his legs off of the side.

“What?”

“Sam. Aw-Sam-dude, Sam man, Mr.-” Tommy began, only to be cut off by Wilbur.

“The deer guy,” he clarified.

Ponk felt his blood run cold. First the hunters last night, now this? He just couldn’t catch a break. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do. Sam, blonde hair, antlers, about this high-” Tommy thrust his hand up to gesture above his head, “-his bottom half is all deer. You know him.”

Ponk was reminded one again that Sam had said that humans were dangerous, but… Tommy seemed almost… Familiar with Sam? Something like that. At the very least, not malicious. And Wilbur had practically interrogated him to make sure he wasn’t a hunter, so maybe he could take a chance with them.

Or maybe this was all some elaborate, weirdly specific setup. Ponk doubted that, though.

“You know Sam?”  Ponk asked, finally.

Tommy actually beamed at that. “Of course I do. He’s my dad!”

Ponk looked at him in confusion. “He-”

“He’s not his dad,” Wilbur cut in, only for Tommy to pipe up louder.

“He’s my dad alright! Father Sam, I always call him. He-”

“He’s your dad?” Ponk exclaimed.

Wilbur shot Tommy a look, and the younger sighed. “Technically he’s not my dad, but he raised me.”

Ponk stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not the kid was messing with him or not. But he seemed strangely serious. “You’re telling me Sam raised some human kid in the middle of the woods?”

“That’d be  pretty stupid, Ponk. Of course he didn’t raise some human kid! He raised me!”

Of course. Of course Tommy wasn’t human. But… He looked human. Okay, yeah, Ponk of all people should know not to judge people on looks, but come on.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Tommy asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well… You don’t exactly look like a half-deer to me.”

Tommy made a face. “I’m not a cervitaur, you b-”

“He’s a gremlin,” Wilbur said, a slight smile playing on his lips. 

Tommy’s face turned to a scowl. “I am not! I am not a gremlin!”

Ponk looked between them before settling on Tommy. “Well, what are you then?”

“I’m a raccoon!”

Ponk raised an eyebrow. 

And then Tommy poofed. Yeah, that was the only way Ponk could really describe what happened. Kind of like a tiny cloud puffed around him- whatever. Everyone’s seen cartoons, and it was just like that. The cloud cleared quickly, and Tommy was… Short.

Short and not human.

A little raccoon. Not just a racoon, though, a blonde one. The blonde one.

“You.” Ponk growled out, just for Tommy to immediately ‘poof’ back to himself.

“See? Told you. Sam’s son.”

Ponk didn’t bother to look at Wilbur to ask if that was real. Sam was very much real. The hunters were very much real, too. So why wouldn’t a kid be able to morph into a blonde raccoon at will? Yeah, just add that to the list of crazy things that go on in this town.

“Okay,” Ponk said, letting out a deep breath. “So what do you want, Sam’s son?”

“Tommy,” Tommy corrected. “I want to find Sam.”

Ponk frowned. “What do you mean find him?”

“I haven’t seen him in three days. And there was a bad storm yesterday, and-”

“The hunters,” Wilbur pointed out. 

Tommy nodded. “There have been hunters out the past few days. Usually they come once a month, but that was three days in a row. During a storm! What kind of idiots-”

“We need your help finding Sam,” Wilbur said, “we didn’t know who else to ask.”

“Plus if he’s hurt, you can give him med-i-cal aid,” Tommy pointed out.

Okay.

Okay, cool.

So the raccoon kid and his older brother just wanted him to find the deer-man. The deer-man that Ponk had already been looking for and had been completely unsuccessful in finding. 

“I’ve already been looking for him,” Ponk admitted. “All this morning, there’s still not a sign of him.”

“We’ve been looking for him too! But three heads are best, or whatever,” Tommy said.

“Do you..? Two heads- yeah, sure, whatever.” 

“So you’ll help us find him?” Tommy’s leg swung back particularly hard, banging loudly into the metal of the bed below him. He cringed at the sound. 

“I… Yeah, I will.” Ponk couldn’t pretend he didn’t care, not after searching in the mud all morning.

“Finally! Let’s-”

“But I need a shower first. And a new pair of shoes. So you’ll have to wait.”

A shower and a pair of shoes later, they were in Ponk’s living room, laying out a base plan. Wilbur had a map of the forest- apparently stolen from some nearby library, considering there was definitely a library stamp on the corner. Not that ponk really cared about it.

The forest was mostly trees. A large hiking trail cut through the middle, separating the trees into two sides. The hiking trail led to a large pond and waterfall, which, according to Tommy, was one of the only water sources in the forest.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t that reliable. Since it had rained yesterday, there was water and puddles all over the area, which meant there were plenty of places Sam could go to drink.

“Besides, he’s probably avoiding it because the hunters always go there.”

According to Tommy, Sam did have a ‘house’. It was more of a fort, though, made of thick branches of trees. It was made of four walls and a roof, so there wasn’t much more to ask for. 

Wilbur and Tommy hadn’t gotten the chance to walk all the way over to check, so there was still a chance that Sam had just been hiding there and would be there when they checked. 

Of course, there was also a chance that the entire fort had been destroyed in the storm- or by hunters- and Sam was long gone. No one mentioned that possibility, though. 

They waited until night before actually beginning their search. If Sam was hiding from hunters, he’d be more likely to be out at night. At least, that’s what Tommy said. Ponk wasn’t sure whether or not to totally believe the kid, but it was too late to back out. 

So that’s where the three found themselves. Walking through the dark trees and shouting for Sam. 

It only took 20 minutes for Tommy to get bored.

“I don’t think he’s here,” Tommy said with a groan, leaning against the nearest tree. 

Wilbur rolled his eyes. “You haven’t even looked.”

“I have looked! I looked all day yesterday and he’s not here now, either!”

“Well he’s here somewhere. Let’s just… We can split up. Cover more ground,” Wilbur suggested. Ponk could cite a few hundred episodes of a tv show that showed how that was a bad idea. 

Tommy raised his eyebrows, then nodded eagerly. 

“Are you sure-“ Ponk began, only to be interrupted by an enthusiastic Tommy. 

“We can do it! And I’ll go raccoon so I can look from above. We’ll find him twice as fast!”

“Three times as fast,” Wilbur corrected.

“Twice.”

“Three times-”

“Okay, you two keep fighting, I’m gonna go look for Sam,” Ponk said with an eye roll. And that was all they needed before the three parted ways to search.

Maybe they should’ve planned this better. Ponk had neither boy’s phone number, and even if he did, they definitely wouldn’t be able to send a text from this far in the forest. They could’ve at least picked a time to meet up at the end, in case someone found Sam, so they weren’t all up searching through the entire night. 

But whatever, they’d figure it out. Worst case, Ponk would search for a few more hours before calling it quits. In his defense, he had been searching for, like, four hours beforehand. He was already tired.

Really the only thing keeping him going was the thought that Sam could be hurt. Which was so stupid, because Ponk hardly even knew the guy. Maybe it was because he was pretty-

What? 

No, no, the half-deer guy wasn’t pretty. He was just… Nice. Nice for someone who was raised in a forest. And technically Ponk didn’t even know if he was raised in the forest. Sam could’ve just grown up there on his own like some wild animal. That was probably a rude thought, but no one had to hear it but Ponk.

The mud had only somewhat dried up over the day, and Ponk’s sneakers still kept getting stuck. The trees certainly hadn’t helped it dry, and now that it was dark and cool, it wasn’t going to get any better.

At least that seemed to mean less animals were out. A rabbit here or there, sure, but nothing that could be mistaken as Sam.

Nope, just Ponk, the sound of crickets and other bugs, and the sound of footsteps.

Ponk stopped.

The footsteps, however, did not.

It was coming off somewhere to Ponk’s right. Without even thinking, he took off in that direction. Either it was Wilbur- assuming Tommy had in fact turned into a raccoon- or it was Sam. Ponk had fingers crossed it was Sam, even though the footsteps didn’t sound quite right.
That said, Ponk hadn’t exactly listened to what the sound of Sam walking sounded like, so it could’ve been Sam. 

That thought was cut off when a light was pointed directly at him.

“Ow!” Ponk shouted, throwing a hand over his eyes to prevent the light from being shone in his eyes.

The light dropped down to Ponk’s feet instead, which let Ponk be able to look up and shine his own flashlight at the perpetrator.

Oh. Perpetrators. 

Dream and Sapnap stood only a few yards away from him. Sapnap held a flashlight. Dream held a shotgun. Ponk shuddered, forcing himself to step forward. Dream was the sheriff, it wasn’t like he was going to shoot Ponk.

Although he was out here illegally hunting for magical creatures, so who really knew how much of a stickler for the rules he was.

Ponk shook that thought away, walking over to them.

“What are you doing here?” Dream exclaimed in an angry whisper.

“What are you doing here?” Ponk shouted back.

“Don’t- keep your voice down! There are animals out here! Dangerous animals!”

Ponk rolled his eyes. “What, you’re scared of deer?”

Dream scowled. “It’s not just deer! There are dangerous animals out here.”

“Oh yeah? Name one.”

The timing was almost comedic. The ruffle of bushes, the sound of a single branch snapping, and then, he emerged from the brush. Sapnap’s flashlight immediately shone on him. There was Sam, in all his glory.

Or lack of it, really. He was covered in mud and scratches, moss in his hair. He looked… Tired. Yeah, plain exhausted, really. Sam had deep bags under his eyes, and his hands shook slightly as if just being here took too much energy.

And that was all Ponk saw before Dream shoved him backwards, stepping out in front of Ponk almost… Protectively? Well, if Ponk had any doubt that the ‘dangerous animal’ Dream was hunting was Sam, he was certain it was him now.

Now, if Dream was simply ‘putting himself in danger’ just to protect Ponk, it would be one thing. But of course it couldn’t be that simple. Dream raised his shotgun, pointing it square at Sam’s face.

Ponk was moving before he even realized why. He shoved past Dream, stepping in front of him and grabbing the gun by the barrel, trying to wrench the gun out of Dream’s hands. He had no thoughts really, other than ‘protect Sam’, which he absolutely was doing. Well, maybe not exactly, but the gun wasn’t pointed at the cervitaur anymore, so Ponk considered that a success.

“Ponk! Let go!” Dream snarled at him, having a surprisingly hard time ripping the gun away from the guy who only had one arm.

“I won’t let you shoot him!” Ponk shouted in response.

Dream looked almost shocked by that. “Ponk? He- it’s dangerous!”

“He’s a person!”

“It’s a wild animal!” 

“No he’s not!”

Dream was trying to pull the gun back towards himself. Ponk was doing the same. Neither of them were making any real progress, and that’s when Ponk knew exactly what to do.

He let go of the barrel.

And watched as Dream yanked the gun back, hit himself in the face with it, and fell backwards into the mud. It would’ve been laughable had Ponk not been so nervous about his friend getting shot. 

Both Dream and Ponk scrambled to grab the gun off of the ground first, but that’s when they heard it. The clear click of a gun being loaded. Ponk looked over to Sapnap. He had dropped the flashlight, but the light of the moon illuminated him well. He had a pistol, loaded and ready- and not pointed at Sam.

Of course not. That would’ve been way too easy.

The gun was aimed directly at Ponk’s face.

“Back up, Ponk,” Sapnap said, and Ponk didn’t hesitate to listen. He scrambled backwards until his back was flush against a tree. He didn’t even care that his pants were getting muddy, all he cared about was not dying.

Dream snatched his shotgun from the ground, standing up and brushing himself off. He then raised it and aimed it at Sam. 

“Stand down,” he commanded.

Sam didn’t say a word. His eyes were wide in fear, and he looked like he just wanted to run away. Maybe those were deer instincts, or maybe he was just really scared for his life. Sam shrunk in on himself slightly, just barely bending his front legs so he was nearly bowing in front of Dream. A clear sign of submission.

“You can’t kill him!” Ponk shouted, despite the gun aimed at him. 

“And why’s that, Ponk? It’d sell for a lot, you know,” Dream replied casually, as if talking about the weather and not a person’s life.

Ponk was horrified. “Sell?”

“Come on, you’ve never heard of taxidermy? Lots of people want creatures like this-”

“He’s a sentient person! You can’t- that’s inhuman!” 

Dream rolled his eyes, as if Ponk was the one being ridiculous here. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Ponk took in a deep breath. “I’ll tell everyone.”

Dream snorted. “Tell them what? That we’re hunting mythical creatures? No one will believe you.”

And Ponk faltered, because… Well, Dream was right. No one was going to believe Dream was hunting mythical creatures. Even if Ponk told them he was held at gunpoint, it’s not like they would believe him over Dream. So… What else was there to do, really?

Ponk let out the breath he was holding. “You’re right,” he said softly.

Dream genuinely seemed surprised by that response. Maybe he was expecting more of a fight.

“You said… He’s dangerous, right?”

Dream nodded. “It attacks people. It lives right by our town. Who knows how long until it attacks a child?” 

Ponk nearly laughed at that. Apparently Sam was a child’s father figure. Of course that child was part raccoon and probably feral, but the details felt irrelevant. Speaking of- where the hell were Wilbur and Tommy? It felt real unfair that Ponk had to deal with all this without them.

“You’re right,” Ponk said with a nod, “I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Good. Now come here, Ponk.”

Ponk complied, walking over and standing at Dream’s side. At least now the guns were no longer trained on him. Unfortunately, they were trained on Sam, which was another issue.

If Sam was smart, he would’ve ran as soon as Ponk pushed Dream’s gun out of the way. But no, he had stood there like-

Oh. Okay, very funny.

Sam stood there- and was still standing there- like a deer caught in headlights. The irony was most definitely lost in him, but it wasn’t lost on Ponk.

“So… What exactly do you do with him?” Ponk asked, partly out of curiosity but more just to come up with a plan to stop it.

Dream gave him a look. “That’s none of your business, Ponk.”

“Well- no, but it wouldn’t hurt you to tell me. I mean, if you shoot him now you’ll have to drag him all the way back, won’t you?”

Dream grimaced. “That’s why we’re not shooting him. We’re going to just lead him back and then deal with him.”

Ponk frowned. “Lead him back?”

Dream nodded. He pulled a large slip lead out. It looked like those leashes that vets used to lead dogs back, except this one was rope, and a good size for a deer. The thought of them using it on Sam was almost laughable. Sure it would work to slip around a deer’s neck, but Sam didn’t have a deer’s neck. Where the deer’s neck should be was Sam’s body, and it made no sense for them to put it there.

Maybe they had never dealt with a cervitaur before. Maybe they were just stupid. Maybe both, honestly.

“Wait,” Ponk said suddenly, stepping just slightly forward.

Dream and Sapnap exchanged a look, but neither said a word, waiting for whatever Ponk was going to do. Good.

“He’s hurt.”

Dream frowned. “What? No he’s not-”

“He is! Do you see his front leg? There’s blood there,” Ponk pointed out, lying straight through his teeth. But it was hard to see in the dim light, and even when Sapnap shone his light on it, they couldn’t see much of anything through the mud.

“I don’t see anything,” Dream said. He sounded annoyed, but not angry. Good. Ponk could work with annoyed.

“It’s right there. Look.” Ponk stepped forward, gesturing to Sam’s leg. Sam took a small step back, almost like… He was afraid? Ponk would have to make it up to him later. For now, he had to get both of them out of there alive. 

“Ponk, come back over here. He’s not hurt,” Dream sighed out. 

Ponk wasn’t listening, though. Just moving forward, taking almost careful steps towards Sam, as if approaching a wild animal. “He’s probably not gonna be able to walk back, his leg is all hurt. Do you guys have bandages or anything?” He was maybe two feet away from Sam at that point.

“We don’t have bandages,” Sapnap replied. Stupid. Couldn’t even bring bandages on a hunting trip? Ponk could berate them for it later- no, no, he didn’t want to berate them later. He didn’t want to see them ever again, preferably. 

Ponk took a step forward, leaning towards Sam and whispering in his ear. Sam didn’t reply, but his head dipped down slightly, which Ponk took as a nod. He had to take it as a nod; if Sam didn’t understand, they were both screwed.

He knelt down by Sam’s leg, a weirdly familiar process, before letting out a laugh.

“Oh!” he called out, faking surprise.

There was a beat of silence before Dream replied. “What?”

Ponk let out another small laugh, straightening and turning around. “You’ll never believe it.”

Dream’s eyes narrowed. “Believe what?”

“You were right. He’s not hurt, it’s just mud. Don’t know how I didn’t catch that.”

Dream looked angry. Sapnap looked confused. 

“Yeah, he’ll be fine to walk. Or even-” He was cut off before he could say the last word- run.

A thick arm had wrapped around his abdomen, pulling him tightly against their chest. Before Ponk could even register that the air had been knocked out of him, he was being pulled- no, carried- off through the trees.

Sam had grabbed him in surprisingly strong grip and was now dashing through the forest, lifting Ponk up barely high enough to keep his feet off of the ground. 

Ponk yelped, squirming in Sam’s grip to get even a tiny bit more comfortable. “Sam! That wasn’t the plan!” He lifted his legs up slightly as one brushed against the grass. It was way too close for comfort.

He could hear shouts in the background, followed by fast footsteps. At least there were no shots fired. Not yet, anyway. And- and maybe Sam could outrun them! He certainly was faster than Ponk thought he’d be, and stronger, too.

“I couldn’t leave you!” Sam exclaimed, hugging Ponk just a little tighter. 

Ponk was gripping onto Sam’s arms with a death grip. It would’ve been easier if Sam had grabbed him from the front- then he could just wrap his arms around Sam’s neck. But no, Sam had made it difficult, grabbing him from behind and giving Ponk no way to stabilize himself. 

“They wouldn’t have killed me, stoopid!” 

“They had guns!”

They actually were making good progress all things considered. It helped that Sam seemed to know the forest really well, where Dream and Sapnap most certainly did not. Sam weaved through the trees with practiced ease, never having to so much as pause to make sure where he was going.

Speaking of.

“Where are we going?”

He could feel Sam’s erratic heartbeat against his back. Ponk would attribute it to the running but it had been pounding since Sam had picked him up. “Away!” 

“Very helpful!” Ponk shouted sarcastically. 

Sam didn’t stop for a long time, even after the voices of Dream and Sapnap faded into the distance. He didn’t stop until his breaths were raspy and strained, until he finally stumbled over a tree root. It was only then that he slowed to a stop and set Ponk on the ground.

Er, not really set as much as dropped.

Ponk, not expecting to be put down so quickly, fell to the ground.

And they just stayed there for a long time as Sam caught his breath. Ponk was honestly worried for a moment that Sam had asthma or something. Could deer people even have asthma? Ponk certainly didn’t want to find out like this.

But once Sam finally caught his breath, he spoke. “So… Now what?”

Ponk looked at him confused. “Now what?”

“Where do we go?”

Ponk… Hadn’t thought about it, in all honesty. “They know where I live, so… Not there. Wilbur’s house?”

Sam looked nervous. “Do you know where that is?”

“No… Do you?”

Sam shook his head.

They couldn’t stay in the woods. Both of them knew it. Okay, maybe Sam would be fine out here survival-wise, but Ponk couldn’t. And also Sam was literally being hunted, and it would be stupid to stay in the forest he was being hunted in. So… They had to go somewhere.

And considering the town was the nearest place for miles upon miles… 

“Puffy.”

Sam looked at him confused. “What?”

“Puffy. She’s- she’s a counselor or something. She lives in the town.. Super sweet lady, helpful… She’ll let us stay there until we figure out what to do. I know it.”

Sam frowned. “She’s human?”

Ponk nodded. “I promise you she’s safe.”

“Okay… I’m trusting you.”

They took the long way around to Puffy’s, taking around two hours to travel what should’ve taken half an hour. But they didn’t run into any hunters, so that was a plus.

On the way, Ponk explained that they had been worried when Sam had gone missing. Tommy and Wilbur- the latter of which Sam had never met- had convinced Ponk to go look with them. Sam seemed surprisingly calm about the whole Wilbur and Tommy being missing situation.

“He’s a tough kid. He can handle himself,” Sam said when Ponk asked him about it.

And that was it.

Puffy’s house was more of a cottage than a house. Small, yellow, and a nice little garden in the backyard. Yeah, the backyard. They weren’t dumb enough to go through the front when she literally lived in a neighborhood. 

“You’re sure this will work?” Sam questioned. He looked uncomfortable at the idea of staying with a human. Ponk couldn’t blame him, considering the last humans Sam had dealt with had literally been trying to hunt him.

“Only one way to find out.”

Ponk knocked on the back door of Puffy’s house.

It took maybe five minutes before he heard shuffling, and then the door opened.

There was Puffy, in pajamas with a silk scarf tied around her hair. Deep bags were under her eyes. A taser was in her left hand.

Wait-

“Ponk?” She asked, eyes widening in surprise.

“Puffy! Listen- I need help.”

She frowned, but nodded. “Are you okay? Are you safe?”

Ponk nodded quickly. “Okay, yes. Safe, no. Can we come in?”

“We?” She asked, still frowning.

And that’s when Sam stepped out. He had been situated where Puffy couldn’t see him right away, but now, standing wearily behind Ponk, the light from inside the house illuminating him, there was no missing it.

Puffy’s eyes went even wider, if that was possible. And she stared at Sam for what felt like ages.

“I’m dreaming,” she said softly.

“You’re not,” Ponk replied. “We need help. Please, Puffy, I didn’t know what else to do.”

Puffy stared at them for a long time, eyes flicking from Ponk to Sam, then back again a few times over. And then finally, she stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in.

Ponk let out a sigh of relief and walked inside.

Sam was a lot more hesitant. He had to duck to fit inside the doorframe, very careful to not brush his horns against the ceiling. He kept his head down a little bit, and clasped his shaking hands in front of him to disguise his nervousness. Unfortunately, his nervousness showed through just about everywhere else. It sounded everywhere, too, the sounds of his four hooves clinking against the tile floor as he shifted back and forth out of anxiety. 

“Is your friend… It… Can he understand us?” She asked, gesturing to Sam.

“He’s nervous. He speaks English, though.”

Ponk glanced at Sam, waiting for a response. 

When he got none, he responded for Sam. “His  name is Sam. He’s very grateful to be let in here.”

“Of course. Are you… Able to explain your situation at all?”

Ponk nodded. He took a deep breath and then… Well, Ponk vented. He explained finding Sam a few weeks ago, then how George was shot the night previously. He talked about how he and two friends (who he didn’t name) went out searching for Sam. Then about the hunters.

“It was Dream?” She asked, shocked.

“Yeah! And his friend Sapanp! I don’t- can you believe that, Puffy? Hunting him! Like some wild animal!”

Puffy nodded slowly. “We… What do we do? Call authorities?” 

“Dream is authorities!” Ponk exclaimed, annoyed.

Puffy sighed. “You’re right. But what do we do?”

“I… Don’t know. I was hoping we could stay here until our friends get back and then… We’ll figure out what to do then, I guess.”

“Of course.” Puffy nodded. “You’re allowed to stay here for as long as you need. I only have one spare bed, but itis a queen size…”

Sam blinked, and for the first time, spoke in front of Puffy. “I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s where you sleep,” Ponk muttered to him.

Sam’s mouth twisted into an ‘o’, which Ponk took as understanding. “I don’t have one of those.”

“He can sleep on the floor, I guess. I don’t think deer men use-”

“Certivaurs,” both Sam and Puffy corrected, at the same time.

Ponk rolled his eyes. “I don’t think cervitaurs use beds. But really, Puffy, thank you. You have no idea how grateful I am for this. You’re a lifesaver- literally.”

She gave him a smile. “Of course. I’ll go set up the guest room, you two stay here.” And she left, presumably cleaning up or putting down bedsheets or whatever one does when they ‘set up a guest room’. Ponk had really only lived in apartments, so it wasn’t like he had ever had a guest room. Not that it mattered.

Ponk finally let out a sigh of relief. “We’re good, we’re safe.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking more to himself or Sam, or if that really mattered. All that mattered, in Ponk’s opinion, was that they weren’t being hunted anymore.

Sam nodded, shifting on his feet again. “It’s… Weird.”

“Being safe?” Ponk asked, confused. Maybe Sam had been hunted for a while or something.

“No. Being indoors.” Sam laughed a little. “The floor is all hard.”

Ponk snorted. “You’ve never been in a house before?”

“I live in a forest!”

Ponk just laughed. This was good. They were safe, they were okay. 

After a quick examination (really Ponk just gave him a once-over), Ponk decided that Sam really wasn’t hurt, just covered in mud. To be fair, Ponk was, too, even more so than Sam since he had fallen in the mud, meaning everything he wore was muddy instead of just his boots. 

“I’m gonna go find a bathroom to at least wash my hands,” Ponk told Sam, already heading off to the hallway. 

Sam hummed in acknowledgement, and Ponk took that as good enough. He walked down the hall, opening the first door on the left. It was just an office, not even a fancy one. There was a desk, a laptop, and a few bookshelves. Maybe this is where she did her counseling stuff, though Ponk honestly didn’t know or really care enough to ask. He moved on to the door on the right.

…It was a guest bedroom. Puffy wasn’t inside. There was a queen bed, made nicely with quilts, and a nightstand on either side. A few boxes were along one edge of the room, but it was nothing Ponk and Sam wouldn’t have been able to ignore. But… Puffy wasn’t inside.

This was the guest bedroom and Puffy wasn’t in there ‘getting it ready’. So where did she go?

Ponk moved onto the next room.

It wasn’t a bathroom, either. Nor was it a bedroom or an office. It was…

It felt wrong to call it a display room, but that’s most certainly what it was.

Ponk wasn’t very familiar with taxidermy. Sure he had seen a little in museums as a kid, but that was about it. He always found it creepy and a little weird, especially to keep in one’s house. This… Was somehow even worse.

In the center of the room was a glass box with what looked like a taxidermy rabbit stuck inside. At least, it kind of looked like a rabbit. If rabbits had fangs, wings, and small antlers. But it didn’t look fake, either, and considering Ponk’s experience over the last few months, he had no doubt that this thing was real. 

There were larger antlers hung up on the wall, looking surprisingly similar to Sam’s. Shadow boxes filled with small wings that most definitely did not come from butterflies were hung around that. No, it reminded him more of… Fairy wings. Ponk would’ve brushed it off as a silly thought had he not just seen the rabbit-bird-vampire thing. Not to mention there was a literal cervitaur in the other room. There was… A surprisingly high chance that those wings did in fact come from fairies.

Dream had said they were going to sell Sam. He had mentioned taxidermy, too…

Ponk’s heart dropped as he realized what he had just walked him and Sam into. This wasn’t a friend there to help them, this was… Well, a collector.

He tried to calm himself down, but there was too much to look at. He swore he saw a gnome on one of the many shelves, and those guys were literally just tiny humans. Puffy had killed- 

Well, maybe she hadn’t killed it. But she still bought it! No way those things weren’t sentient. Tommy, the kid who was a raccoon half the time was sentient!

He and Sam needed to get out as fast as possible. Ponk spun on his heel, about to walk out and close the door to pretend like nothing ever happened, only to come face-to-face with Puffy.

They both stared at each other for a long moment. Ponk thought about calling her a monster, and Puffy… Well, Ponk had no idea what was going through her head at the moment. Probably trying to decide if she could kill Ponk or not.

“You’re snooping in my house,” she pointed out.

Ponk grimaced. “You hunt sentient creatures.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t hunt them, I just collect them.” So he was right! Okay, maybe that wasn’t something to be excited about. Actually, it was definitely not something to be excited about. Especially considering the exact kind of person Puffy wanted taxidermied (was that a word?) was currently standing in her kitchen. 

“They’re peopl,e Puffy!”

Puffy just sighed. “I called Dream and Sapnap over, they said they’ll be here soon. Said they already ran into you tonight. I’m guessing you came straight from them to my house?”

“You’re evil,” Ponk breathed out.

Puffy feigned hurt. “I’m not evil. Some of these creatures are truly dangerous, you know.”

“So are the people hunting him with guns!”

She just shook her head. “I’m sorry you had to see all this, Dr. Ponk. But really, it’s time for you to go.”

“Excuse me? You-”

“I’ll give you two options here. You can go home and forget this ever happened, or… Well, we can always find a new doctor.”

This was bad. This was so bad for so many reasons.

Listen, if Ponk had known that this would be the result of taking a job as a doctor out in the middle of nowhere, he probably never would’ve taken it. Especially considering his life was literally being threatened at the moment. 

There was a sound in the background. A door being open, a confused shout, shuffling of feet.

“Oh, they got here fast. Come on, Ponk, wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.” Puffy smiled at him gently, though the smile came nowhere close to reaching her eyes. And she walked out. Ponk followed, mostly because his only other choice was staying in the creepy taxidermy room.

The air was tense outside, because of course it was. It was like everyone’s anxiety and anger mixed together into a cloud of something pretty awful. Ponk grit his teeth as he took sight of the scene in front of him.

Puffy’s front door was wide open. Standing in front of it was Dream, dangling a blonde raccoon a few feet off of the floor in just one hand, and Sapnap, holding Wilbur’s shirt collar to keep the man from moving. Sam stood opposite of them, looking furious.

“Let them go, Dream,” he demanded in a low growl. It’s the angriest Ponk has ever heard Sam sound. He sounded rather scary.

Dream didn’t seem put off by it at all, though. In fact, he just laughed. “No, I don’t think I will. We’ve been trying to catch this little guy for a while now. I didn’t realize he shifted into a human, though. Come on, Tommy, why don’t you change forms?”

Tommy responded with a rabid growl. It had never occurred to Ponk that Tommy probably couldn’t speak in that form, even though it made sense.

Puffy put a hand on Ponk’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like it was to hold him back, so he couldn’t fight against whatever was about to happen. 

“You people are sick,” Ponk growled out. 

“We’re doing this for everyone’s safety,” Dream said calmly. “These… Things are dangerous.”

“They’re people! Tommy’s a literal child!” Wilbur shouted, only to be roughly yanked back by Sapnap as a reminder to shut up.

Ponk made eye contact with Sam, surprised to find genuine fear in Sam’s eyes. It made sense, really. This wasn’t the first time Sam had dealt with these people, but it was almost certainly the most hopeless of times. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to fight, just… Nothing to do. This was it.

Ponk was going down with them, he decided. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wilbur made the same choice. If they wanted to kill Tommy and Sam, they’d have to kill them, too. Yeah.

It was gonna suck. It was gonna be painful and awful, but Ponk… accepted it.

Maybe it was a little early to be a ride or die for these people, but Ponk didn’t care about that. He cared about them, and that was it. It was gonna be okay. Ponk was going to make sure it was okay.

But it wasn’t gonna be okay. Not really. Ponk’s hands were tied, as was everyone else’s. There was really nothing to do but wait for the inevitable. Puffy would take Sam- and probably Tommy- for some weird creepy taxidermy. Dream would kill Ponk and probably bury him somewhere out in the forest. It would be pretty ironic, in all honesty.

It was when Ponk let out a slow breath and accepted their fate, about to open his mouth to tell Dream and they’ll have to kill all of them, that it happened.

Dream let out a strangled cry as sharp teeth sunk into his forearm. Specifically, a blonde raccoon’s sharp teeth. It caused Dream to drop Tommy, who skittered off to Sam almost immediately. Chaos erupted almost immediately from there.

Sapnap’s hold on Wilbur faltered just enough for him to pull away, shoving him backwards.

At the same time, Ponk was experiencing something similar. Well, except instead of shoving Puffy backwards, he elbowed her. In the throat. Well, he tried to. Except he had misjudged her height and his elbow ended up at the bridge of her nose instead, which let out a sick crack. She stumbled back a few feet before tripping and ending up on the floor. She wasn’t moving.

Ponk stared at her for a few seconds, terrified he had just killed this woman despite knowing that was pretty much impossible, before he turned his attention forward again. 

Dream was pulling out a gun. Before Ponk could even react, Sam surged forward, Tommy still on his back. He more so barreled into Dream than anything else, shoving him against a wall and knocking his head hard against the surface. The gun clattered to the floor uselessly. Dream fell shortly after it, unconscious.

There was a small dent in the wall. Either that wall wasn’t built as sturdily as Ponk thought, or Sam was really, really strong.

“Ponk, Sam!” Wilbur shouted, tilting his head towards a stunned Sapnap and a Puffy who was starting to sit up. “We need to get out of here!”

“And go where?” Ponk shouted back, slightly alarmed. He quickly made his way to the others, not that there was much distance between them already. 

“Somewhere that’s not here!” Wilbur was already at the door, pulling it open and gesturing for them to go. 

They all pretty quickly made their way out before Puffy or Sapnap could react, not wanting to risk having to deal with them. They stumbled down her front steps, Ponk holding Sam’s hand to steady him as the man was definitely not used to stairs. 

“Where do we go?” Sam asked, mimicking Ponk’s question from earlier. None of them really had any idea.

Until Tommy, now in human form, shoved something into Ponk’s hand- oh. Keys. Car keys. “Where did you-”

“She hangs ‘em up by the front door. I think they go to that truck.” Tommy pointed to Puffy’s blue pickup truck in the driveway next to them.

“Are you suggesting we steal a…” Sam hesitated, as if not sure how to pronounce the word. 

Tommy shrugged. “It’s not stealing if she’s a bad person, right?”

“That’s not-”

“I guess I’m driving. Sam, can you fit in a truck?”

Sam could fit in a truck, laid out across the back seats. He tried to say he could just ride in the truck bed, but Tommy said it was a bad idea. Speaking of bad ideas, Tommy, still in human form, decided to sit on the floor of the backseats. Without a seatbelt. Ponk would’ve lectured him for the lack of safety had they not already been through so much that night.

Ponk ended up in the driver’s seat, Wilbur in the passenger’s. Ponk tried to offer Tommy the middle seat in the front, but Tommy insisted Sam would get lonely in the back, despite that most definitely not being true. Knowing the kid- or gremlin, as Wilbur kept referring to him- there was a good chance he wanted an excuse to sit on the floor anyway. That, or he was just glad to have his dad back.

Yeah, it was probably the first. But Ponk thought the second option was sweeter.

Before they knew it, they were on the road, driving off into the night. Sam ducked his head down as much as he could, but it wasn’t too long before they were out of the town and the only light around them was the truck’s headlights. 

“You know,” Wilbur started, “I have a mermaid friend a few hours away from here. Maybe we could stay with her for a bit.”

It was hard to gauge if he was joking or not. No one really had the energy to ask.

The drive was pretty silent for a good twenty minutes or so, until Tommy stood up, leaned over the seats, and clicked on the radio. It was static as he scrolled through the different stations, occasionally picking up some random news report or talk show, before he finally landed on music. It sounded… Country.

Wilbur groaned. “I am not listening to country music the whole drive out,” he complained.

Sam perked up, his antlers scraping against the roof of the truck. Luckily it was lightly enough to not cause any actual damage. “I like it, it sounds nice.”

“Of course you like country!” Wilbur shot at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam sounded almost hurt, but more playful.

This was going to be a long drive. 

It’s a weird feeling, packing your life away in just a few boxes and moving to a strange little town in the middle of nowhere. It’s another feeling entirely to be driving away from that town in a stolen truck, two magical creatures and some guy with you. 

They had… Literally nothing. Not even a wallet. No idea where they were going or how long it would take to get there.

But, honestly, anything was safer than that town.

Besides, at least this time, Ponk had three new friends with him. Or, two new friends and a raccoon.