Leaving the Plains and Pure Hell
Four days had passed since we left the Great Plains. We were still racing across the flatlands. But unlike the ever-verdant plains that stayed green year-round, these late-autumn fields were dimmed by fallen leaves and withered grass.
On this land that yielded to nature's flow, we—
"Ughhh…."
"This sucks…."
"Urk…!"
—were suffering from motion sickness.
We only realized it after leaving: how bountiful the plains had been. The grass grew thick up to our ankles, a natural fluffy suspension all its own. The wagons might've been slow, but they were comfy—no jolts.
But the wilds were different. Hard, parched earth or sticky mud, uneven gravel and rocks, wild weeds sprouting wherever, potholes dug by who-knows-what. All of it tortured our inner ears.
At first, it was fun. The kids, born and raised on the soft plains, gawked wide-eyed at their first late-autumn scenery. They clustered together, poking their heads out of the wagons like baby birds peeking from the nest, twisting this way and that.
I hadn't felt seasons much since my city days, so the foliage after nearly four years hit me fresh. But the fun sightseeing lasted exactly half a day. The second we hit rocky ground—more dirt than grass, more stones than dirt—the torment began.
The kids who'd squealed with delight at the rattling wagons were now shuddering, clutching their stomachs in misery.
In this hellish wagon turned inferno, I—
"Sis, snap out of it!"
"Kill… me…."
—had become the VIP guest.
How did this happen? In my past life, I was rock-solid on vehicles. Couldn't understand friends who got carsick in taxis. But like Superman's kryptonite, this body I thought was perfect had a weakness: motion sickness.
"Hahaha! Ursa sis, can't handle this little bump?"
"What a lightweight, heh heh."
Even in this chaos, Tamur and Peak—totally fine—mocked me.
Why were they okay? Tigers and deer motion-sickness proof? Nah, their way-younger tiger and deer siblings were curled up next to me, groaning too.
"You two! How can you laugh when sis is suffering like this?!"
"Hey, Sonya, after all the beatings from her? This chance won't come again."
And Sonya—another motion-sickness immune—defended me.
"Hee hee hee. Bet it'll happen again. Every wagon ride from now on, she'll puke."
Ungrateful brats. After all I'd done for them, this betrayal? They had to be Satan's spawn. Any decent soul would fetch a wet cloth and nurse a frail beastkin girl like me, right? Sure, I'd whacked them with "love taps" or stern advice now and then! But we had history!
"Sis, hang in there. Rest break soon—we'll stop any minute."
Sonya was my only hope. Peak beastkin superiority right there. The inferior races should hang their heads in shame.
At this rate, walking would've been better, but no shoes meant the adults wouldn't let us off the wagons. Plains were soft grass-only—bare feet fine. Beastkin tough against plant poisons anyway. Kids grew fast, so we'd go shoeless till they fit hand-me-downs, swapping for new ones as needed.
But this wasn't the plains. Rough dirt, jagged rocks, thorns everywhere—shoes mandatory. None made yet, so new ones pending settlement. Agreed to stay put till then.
Back then, I worried the brats' energy would burst. Now…
Energy my ass, I'm gonna die….
Every rock bump flipped my guts. If this were a game, HP dropping 10% per hit. I'd died ten times over these four days.
"Sonya…."
"Yeah, sis! I'm right here!"
I croaked her name, too weak to turn. She shoved her face into view.
"I-I'm done for. This is the end…."
"Sis! Nooo! Don't give up! Don't leave me!"
–Thump-thump-thump—wagon hit another rock, jolting hard.
"Gaaahhh!!"
Guts churning like a blender. Sonya's face went white.
"Sis! Nooooo!"
From outside, it'd look like melodrama. But this was UFC-level agony. Real suffering.
–Pweeeet!
Luckily, rest time hit before actual death and reincarnation. No more shaking, but the damage lingered.
"This won't do… Sis, wait here!"
"Sonya…? Don't go… Can't go out…!"
Sonya hopped over the breezy kids peeking out, dashed outside. Soon returned with tiny shoes.
"Here, sis. Shoes. Wear 'em and you can get out."
"Where'd you…?"
"Mom's from when she was little. Remembered seeing 'em, so I got 'em."
Such a treasure? Moved by Sonya's sacrifice, tears streamed down my cheek.
"Thanks, Sonya. Really, thank you. But you…!"
"It's fine, sis. Seeing you suffer hurts me more."
Then—footsteps approaching. Chilling, grumpy old-lady tread.
"Who’s the cheeky brat wandering barefoot?"
Frost Fang. Tribe disciplinarian. Kids' grim reaper for rule-breakers.
"Sonya. I know everything. Come out nice and easy."
The sharp-eyed old wolf poked her head in, hunting prey.
"…No! Frost Fang! I told her to! Sonya did nothing wro—Urk!"
Tried shielding Sonya, but heaving hit as I rose—couldn't move. Just lifted my head from prone position.
Sonya smiled at me, took Frost Fang's hand, and went quietly.
"Sonya!! Waaah…."
Powerlessness crushed me—not protecting my sister. Too weak to lift my head in shame. Dry-heaved and sobbed face-down from carsickness.
An hour later, Sonya returned from Frost Fang. Other kids averted eyes, couldn't look.
"Sonya… Sonya!"
Crawled to her. Saw her state.
"Ah… Aah…!"
Sonya's eyes were dead. Body—especially dirty bare feet—spotless. "Washed" by Frost Fang.
Get caught by that vicious granny, and this happens. Huddled with other grannies, they scrub you like laundry—punishment. Helplessness, skin scraped raw, violated shame mixing till your soul shatters. Even troublemakers go quiet after.
I got "fixed" post-reincarnation, peak barbarian-hater phase. Never again.
Wanted to stay till Sonya's pieces mended, but couldn't even handle myself. Entrusted her to other sibs.
I had to honor Sonya's will. Tried on the shoes she'd risked life for.
Cow-leather slippers, worn but sturdy. Bit loose—perfect for walking.
Stepped off wagon, tested. First shoes in a year—awkward. Too plains-barbaric now.
"Sonya, look! I'm outside. Can walk! All thanks to you."
Sonya, lifeless on the floor, faintly smiled at my shoe-bouncing. No energy to speak—lips moved. Focused: "Good job."
Outside, squeezed her hand tight. Tamur, watching, piped up.
"But couldn't Sonya just ask anyone for shoes?"
"…."
"…."
"…."
Silence blanketed the wagon.
"Bear Paw!!!!"
Fist-smacked Peak's crown.
"Kweack!"
Bear Paw direct hit—no survivors. Peak yowled and passed out. Lump swelled.
"…Anyone else wanna say something?"
No one spoke. Eyes down, staring floor. Carsick hard, huh. Rocks unforgiven.
…
–Pweeeet!
Rest over. Folks moving again. Unlike usual, I walked too.
On plains, no need to walk—stuck to wagons like gum when bored kids dashed out. Now carsick forced it.
Just walking got boring. Peeking in wagons? Only groaning wrecks.
Let's scout ahead. Humans would've collapsed by now, but beastkin showed no fatigue. If anything, pace too slow—frustrating.
No choice. Tons of stuff, varying stamina. Herding cows/oxen limited speed.
Check where we were. Wagons open-rear, closed-front—couldn't see from sickbed.
Up front: distant tall mountains loomed.
No way we're crossing that? Steep endless uphill. Fine for us, hell for beasts/wagons.
Two elders led. Approached; Deer Elder Serian spotted me.
"Ursa! Carsick better? Oh, shoes? Whose?"
"Sonya's—borrowed. We heading over those mountains?"
"Yep, that's our spot beyond. Quick trip?"
"…Week at least?"
Not just distance—crossing with numbers/cargo meant detour up/down. Week minimum.
"Dunno. Why leave plains at all? Seemed safer."
As one who'd chatted with the plains, it'd back us even against demons. Turn back now?
"Plains were just a hideout. Ten years freeloading? Time to go honorably."
Not intentional nomad spot? Like squatting a shop ten years past rain—nuisance, but owner liked it?
"But plains held us."
"Exactly why leave. Staying? Forever bound."
Horror genre shift. Yeah, plains gave clingy girlfriend vibes. Not baseless.
"So beyond's demon-free? Hiding in a cave?"
"Past those peaks: what even demons fear. We'll use him to check invaders, build strength."
Demon-shaker? Dragon maybe? Fantasy staple!
"Wh-who?"
"Border March. Empire's shield. Settling near there."
"…What?!?"
Who? Empire? This world had an empire? Not pure barbarian world???