Strangly Familiar

Chapter 2

Luke finally came to an unsteady stop just a few steps short of the large bush that stood in his way, its thick branches and dense leaves forming a natural barrier between him and whatever lay beyond. Up close, the bush seemed even larger than it had from a distance, its greenery vibrant and almost unnaturally full, like something pulled straight from a painting. The leaves rustled softly as the wind passed through them, creating a faint whispering sound that made the quiet forest feel even more alive. Beyond it, partially obscured, he could still make out the scattered shapes of wood and that unmoving figure he had spotted earlier. His curiosity pressed at him, stronger now, urging him forward despite the strange unease settling in his chest.

“…Just a little closer,” he muttered to himself.

Carefully, Luke raised one of his limbs, intending to push aside the branches and force a path through. The motion felt awkward, still unfamiliar, but he managed to guide it toward the bush. The moment his limb made contact with the leaves, however, something felt… wrong. The sensation that traveled back through him was not what he expected—not even close. It lacked the subtle texture he remembered, the light brushing feeling of leaves against skin. Instead, it felt duller, muted in a way that immediately set off alarm bells in his mind.

“…What?”

He froze, his limb still pressed against the bush. That wasn’t right. He had touched plants countless times before. He knew what it should feel like. This… this wasn’t it.

“…Did I mess up my nerves or something…?” he said under his breath, confusion quickly turning into concern.

Trying to make sense of it, Luke focused, attempting to wiggle his fingers—something small, something simple. He waited for the familiar sensation, the subtle movement he had always taken for granted.

Nothing happened.

There was no response.

No feeling.

His breath caught.

“…No… no, no, no…”

A cold wave of dread washed over him as he quickly pulled his limb back, his gaze snapping toward it. What he saw made his heart drop.

“…What… is that…?”

What should have been an arm… wasn’t.

Instead, extending out from his body was something entirely different—something thicker, longer, covered in short fur, and ending not in fingers, but in a solid, rounded shape. A hoof.

His eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

“…That’s not… my arm…”

Panic surged through him as he quickly raised his other limb, only to be met with the same sight. Another hoof. Another limb that didn’t belong to the body he remembered.

“No—no, this isn’t real!”

He flailed both of them wildly in front of him, as if the frantic motion might somehow fix things, might snap everything back to normal. His movements were erratic, uncoordinated, almost desperate. The world around him blurred slightly as his breathing quickened, his chest tightening with every passing second.

“This has to be a dream—there’s no way—there’s no way this is real!”

He kept going for a few more seconds, caught in that rising panic, until the realization slowly began to settle in.

Nothing was changing.

The limbs—his limbs—remained exactly as they were.

The frantic movement slowed, then stopped entirely. Luke stood there, breathing heavily, staring at his own body as if hoping it would suddenly make sense. It didn’t.

“…Okay… okay… calm down…” he whispered, though his voice trembled slightly.

He closed his eyes and took a slow breath in, then another out, forcing himself to steady his racing thoughts. Panicking wasn’t going to help. It wasn’t going to change anything. As much as he wanted to deny it, this was real.

“…This is real…”

Reluctantly, he lowered his gaze, his attention shifting back toward the pile of wood beyond the bush. For a moment, he hesitated, as if unsure whether he even wanted to keep going. But curiosity, stubborn as ever, pushed him forward again.

Carefully, he used his new limb—his hoof—to nudge the branches aside. It was awkward, and the lack of proper grip made it difficult, but after a bit of effort, he managed to create a small opening. Stepping through, he emerged on the other side, the scene now fully visible before him.

Up close, the pile of wood looked even more out of place. The pieces were scattered in a loose heap, some stacked awkwardly atop others, as if something had violently torn them apart. They weren’t just random logs or fallen branches either—these were shaped, carved, crafted. The edges were smooth, the surfaces detailed with intricate designs that hinted at careful workmanship.

“…This definitely wasn’t just lying around out here…” Luke said quietly.

He moved closer, examining the pieces more carefully. The carvings caught his eye first—patterns etched into the wood that suggested it had once been something more than just a simple structure. Something decorative. Something important.

“…A wagon…?” he guessed, his voice thoughtful.

As if to confirm his suspicion, his gaze landed on a broken section of a wheel, half-buried beneath the rest of the debris. The curved wood and spokes were unmistakable.

“…Yeah… definitely a wagon.”

He slowly circled the remains, taking in the damage. Whatever had happened here, it hadn’t been gentle. The wagon hadn’t just broken—it had been destroyed.

With that thought lingering in his mind, Luke turned his attention to the other thing lying beside the wreckage.

The body.

He hesitated.

“I really shouldn’t be doing this…” he muttered, glancing around as if expecting someone to suddenly appear and stop him.

But the forest remained silent.

Swallowing his unease, he approached slowly, his steps cautious and uneven. He kept his distance at first, observing from afar. The figure didn’t move. It didn’t react.

Still, he wasn’t taking any chances.

“…Better safe than sorry.”

Looking around, he spotted a fallen branch nearby and awkwardly picked it up, maneuvering it with his mouth after a couple failed attempts with his hooves.

“…This is already weird enough…”

Holding the stick out in front of him, he leaned forward and gently poked the body.

No response.

He poked it again.

Still nothing.

“…Yeah… not moving…”

After a moment of hesitation, he dropped the stick and stepped closer, his curiosity now outweighing his fear. The first thing that stood out to him was the color. The body was covered in fur—a bright, almost striking orange that stood out vividly against the green grass.

“…That’s… really bright…”

It didn’t take long for him to recognize the shape.

“…A horse…?” he said slowly.

That realization felt strange in itself. Horses didn’t look like this where he came from. They weren’t this colorful, this… stylized.

“…What kind of place is this…?”

He lowered one of his hooves and gently placed it against the body. The moment he made contact, he felt the coldness.

“…Cold…”

It was the kind of cold that told him this body had been here for a while. And yet… something didn’t add up. There were no signs of decay, no smell, nothing that suggested it had been here long enough to match that coldness.

“…That’s weird…”

His gaze slowly moved upward, settling on the face. As he looked at it, an odd feeling crept over him—something he couldn’t quite explain. It felt… familiar. Not in a clear, recognizable way, but in a subtle, lingering sense, like a memory just out of reach.

“…Do I… know you…?”

He frowned, shaking his head slightly.

“No… that doesn’t make sense…”

Pulling his hoof back, he stepped away, trying to shake off the strange feeling. That was when something else caught his eye—a large patch of disturbed dirt near the wreckage.

“…Was that there before…?”

He slowly approached it, his movements still slightly unsteady. The ground looked as though something had impacted it with force, the soil uneven and displaced.

“…Like something fell…”

His thoughts immediately jumped to a possibility. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, scanning the area until it settled on the towering rocky mountain nearby. It loomed over the forest, steep and imposing.

“…Did it fall from up there?”

The idea made sense. A wagon, a fall, a crash—it all lined up neatly. But as he studied the mountain more closely, doubt crept in. He couldn’t spot any clear cliff edge or path that would explain such a fall.

“…I don’t see where it could’ve come from…”

He frowned.

“…Then what happened here…?”

A second possibility formed in his mind, one far less comforting than the first.

“…What if this wasn’t an accident…?”

The thought lingered, heavy and unsettling. He couldn’t prove it, but he couldn’t dismiss it either.

“…This could’ve been… something else…”

The idea of this being a staged scene, something meant to hide a darker truth, made the quiet forest feel far less peaceful.

Luke exhaled slowly, trying to push the thought aside.

“…Whatever this place is… it’s not normal.”

He glanced down at himself again, at his unfamiliar body, and let out a quiet, uneasy breath.

“…And I’m definitely not normal either…”

After a moment, he made a decision. Standing around here wasn’t going to help him. If there were answers, he wasn’t going to find them in this clearing.

“…I need to find people… a village… something.”

The idea brought a small sense of relief. If there were others out there—if there was some kind of civilization—then maybe he could figure things out.

But as soon as that thought settled, another feeling rose to the surface.

Hunger.

It hit him suddenly, sharply, like a reminder he couldn’t ignore. His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and he realized just how empty he felt.

“…Great… perfect timing…”

He glanced around at the surrounding plants, uncertainty written all over his face.

“I don’t even know what I can eat here…”

The last thing he wanted was to accidentally poison himself.

“…Yeah… no. Bad idea.”

He sighed.

“…Guess I’ll just have to deal with it…”

A village would solve that problem too—food, safety, answers. It was his best option.

“…I’ll just get there and figure things out…”