Yay! Wag is finally awake! Sorry about the wait. I'm using all the scraps of quiet time around the house to write. :) It didn't help that I got a teensy bit of writer's block while working on this too. I hope you all enjoy! :D

*Wag's POV*

The first thing that I was aware of was the sound of a gentle breeze whispering through leafy branches somewhere high above me. I'm not sure how long I lay there listening to the breeze, unable to move or string thoughts together properly, but eventually feeling started to return to my leaden limbs. I became aware that I was very wet and cold and started shivering before I could manage any other movement.

Leaves of a low plant I was lying against shuddered and scraped softly against each other as they carried the vibrations of my shivers up its stem. The ground beneath me had become mud and clung to the side of my face and body where I lay. I did not see any light coming through my eyelids. Either my vision had not returned yet, or it had gotten dark out. I decided to try opening my eyes to find out which.

Where am I? My sluggish mind managed to ask a question as I struggled to pry my eyelids apart. I teleported from the realm of Mianite, right? I wonder how long I've been unconscious. My eyelids finally parted and after allowing time for my eyes to adjust, I could make out the towering forms of trees and the spreading fronds of ferns, like the one I was tucked under. It appeared to be late evening or early morning by the faint lighting. Wait, that teleport must be a memory or a dream. This place looks familiar. Maybe I'm still dreaming.

That would explain the extreme disconnect between my body and what my mind wanted it to do. That would also explain why the colors of this jungle seemed all wrong. The tree trunks and the yellow shelf fungi growing on them were washed out and pale versions of the colors they should be, while the ferns and tree leaves were in grayscale.

I blinked a few times, being able to move my eyelids more easily now. I tried to move my still shivering limbs next. I don't want to freeze to death out here, wherever I am. I had mild success. It appeared my left arm and leg, which I had been lying on, had fallen asleep. That familiar feeling of pins and needles raced up and down my trapped limbs. Well, at least I know I was out a long time to allow that to happen, I thought as I struggled to lift myself up.

Seeing a tree with cocoa pods hanging from the higher branches sparked my memory. All of the events that had happened since arriving in Ruxomar replayed through my mind at lightning speed. I was out here collecting potion ingredients, I remembered after my mind caught up. Then something went funny with a spell.

My arms and legs had returned to normal levels of cooperation, and I managed to shift into a crouch. Looking around more, I noted the clearing had been thoroughly drenched by the storm that had rolled through, the leaves of trees and ferns still dripping occasionally. The refreshing smell of damp earth and greenery filled the air. I remembered there had been an ocelot involved in all this and tried to stand up to better look for it. I did feel a bit concerned that my spell might have hurt the creature. I was unsteady on my feet and had to brace myself against one of the fallen logs to maintain balance.

I spotted a large grey and darker grey form motionless on the ground a few feet behind the fern I had fallen under. As I started to inspect it, I stiffened. That wasn't an ocelot. "That's me!" I shouted. If there was any doubt about it, I could plainly see the imbued sword in its sheath at his/my belt and the spell book lying where I had dropped it before passing out. "Okay, I must be dreaming still. I can't be having an out of body experience." I raised one of my hands to rub my eyes, but stopped as it came into my field of vision.

Glancing down to where my other arm was braced against the log confirmed it. I didn't have hands. I had paws. Looking over my shoulder and down my furry back, I could see a muddy tail lashing side to side from my growing concern. My soaked coat was a deep grey, almost black, with slightly darker points (tips of paws, tail, and face—though at this point he hadn't seen his face yet) where it wasn't caked in mud.

"This is the most vivid dream I've ever had. I must be feeling guiltier for hurting that ocelot than I thought." I said to myself as I dropped from my hind limbs onto all four feet. I cautiously crept over to my(?) still form. It took me the first couple steps to figure out how I should walk with four feet instead of two, but I got the hang of it without tripping myself.

Stalking closer, I could see my face under my hood. The edging on my robes and the tattoos running from my eyes to my jaw line also appeared grey, though I knew they were blood red. So, in this dream, I'm red/green colorblind? Random... I was distracted from this line of thought as something else caught my eye. "Oooo. That cut is worse than I thought." The injury on my left cheek looked deeper than it had felt when I'd gotten it (must have damaged a nerve), and the edges were jagged in places and puckered in others. It would almost definitely scar, and it probably wasn't helping the healing process any that the cut part of my face was speckled in mud splashed up by the rain. I was surprised that it hadn't bled more than it had when it happened. "As soon as I wake up, I'm taking care of that before it gets more infected," I decided.

I wondered if waking my... other self up in the dream would wake me up in the real world. As entertaining as this dream was, I really should be getting back to my tower. Looking at the sky, I determined that it was late evening; there were some stars starting to show in the sky above the clearing now. Zombies and skeletons would be prowling soon, and I wasn't wearing my battlemage armor. I didn't think to question why the time in the real world should be the same as in my dream.

"Well, I guess its worth a shot," I said with a shrug. Stepping closer to the still form, I poked it with a grey paw. When nothing happened, I poked harder. Still earning no response, I shoved as hard as my smaller frame could and succeeded in turning "me" onto my back. Still, the unconscious wizard did not stir aside from the steady rise and fall of his breathing. I could feel my tail begin to twitch and my ears lay back as I grew annoyed.

I was about to give up and go have fun with my dream, since I seemed to be stuck here for a while. As I circled the robed figure one last time before leaving, I happened to glance over at my spell book where it lay on the ground. Thankfully I had enchanted the book to prevent water damage shortly after acquiring it. The scrollwork and lettering on the cover were as perfect as the day I'd made the book. Wizard Waglington's Spell Book.

Having realistic dreams was nothing new to me, but I had never been able to read in a dream before. Believe me, I'd tried. Imagine being able to spend your sleeping hours productively, re-working a complex spell formula. After much frustration and many attempts, my brothers and I had determined that whatever part of the brain allowed you to process written words did not function when you were asleep. (I actually learned this from an old Batman cartoon. XD Someone had trapped Batman in a dream.) I can't be reading this if I'm asleep, I thought as I fearfully flipped open the cover with my nose, trying not to get mud on the pages. Sure enough I could plainly read every word.

If I were myself, my face would have paled at the realization that this was real. Apparently the feline equivalent of this response was all the fur on my body trying to stand on end. This didn't work very well considering I was still quite wet and muddy. I stepped back with my front feet, causing my back to arch. This can't be happening. It suddenly made sense why the ocelot from earlier was nowhere to be found.

Hearing a zombie groan not that far away from me snapped me out of my state of shock. I have to get us home and figure this out. I gingerly bit into my spell book and half carried, half dragged it close enough to my wizard self that I could have a paw on "me" and try to teleport both of us home. Normally, the last thing a wizard should do if something goes wrong with a spell is throw more magic into the mix, but there was no way I'd be able to drag my body all the way back to Tom's tree, let alone Dagrun. It was a necessary risk.

Setting the muddied book back down, I shook my head in attempt to get the grime out of my mouth, with little success. Lovely. Flipping pages with my nose until I reached my "go home" spell, I could hear a few more groans joining the first one. Not good. They must be homing in on the smell of my blood, I thought, glancing down at the gash on the unconscious wizard's face.

I carefully recited the words of the teleport spell, keeping one of my front paws on the book and one of my back paws on "me", but nothing happened. No, no, no. Not again! I started to panic as I repeated the spell in vain. I don't have my magic! I couldn't even sense the enchantments I knew were on my spell book.

I did not have time to fully panic before I noticed a creeper emerge from the trees on the far side of the clearing. It hadn't noticed me yet; I froze with one paw still on my spell book and one on my body. Please, don't look this way. Please, don't look...Balls. The creeper happened to glance at me, more specifically the me that was defenseless and unconscious. It changed its course with a ticking hiss and started to walk towards us.

I don't think the creeper had even noticed me until I shifted all of my feet back onto the ground for a better position to either fight or flee from. When it did notice me, it hissed again as it rapidly backpedaled. Huh? I stared at the retreating shape in confusion for a few moments before I remembered. Oh, right. Creepers don't like cats. I wonder why that is?

I was so focused on the fleeing creeper that I forgot the approaching zombies until one of them stepped on a branch at the edge of the clearing. The snap behind me caused me to squeal and jump a good three feet in the air—I don't deal well with surprises when I'm already stressed out. After landing, I turned to see four zombies leaving the cover of the trees. The sun was fully set now, though my vision was staying surprisingly good. (Must be a cat thing.)

My fur tried to bristle as my heart rate shot through the roof. One of the zombies was wearing a full set of iron armor. It was rusted and cracked in multiple places, though this did nothing to alleviate my terror. How on Ruxomar am I supposed to hold off four zombies? They aren't afraid of cats, I thought as I started shaking and hyperventilating.

I was fairly certain I'd need both of my selves alive to be able to reverse whatever had happened. I couldn't let them kill my body. For all I knew, respawning (which was itself a type of magic) might make this permanent or far worse. So I ignored my muscles trembling and my instincts screaming at me to run and instead stepped toward the hungry undead.

I tried to make myself look more confident than I felt. The zombies didn't even glance at me until I started growling. I didn't intend to do this; it just kinda slipped out. It succeeded in getting their attention though. They paused in their advance. Their emotionless eyes bored into mine as their rotting brains tried to calculate if I was food or not.

Something in the ocelot part of the brain my mind was now stuck in took offense at the zombies' unnerving stare, and their smell. Felines had a powerful sense of smell, and I now fully appreciated just how disgusting zombies were with their stench of death and decay. I felt my lips pull back from my teeth in a hiss as my ears lay back tightly against my skull. My tail lashed back and forth angrily as I continued to growl. It seemed to be working, sort of; so why stop?

One of the unarmored zombies broke the standoff by taking a step towards my unconscious body, ignoring me. I reacted before I had time to think about what I was getting myself into, ripping at an exposed leg with my... claws... as the zombie attempted to step past me. Extending my claws felt a little bit like making a fist, but different. Either way, it was effective. There were now 4 deep gouges and 1 shallow scratch in the zombie's left leg oozing dark blood. The undead creature released a cry of pain and turned on me, its easy meal forgotten.

I had had plenty of experience fighting zombies, usually at range. Going through Mianite's crypts to collect his relics had forced me to gain some experience with close quarters fighting. Though I didn't have my imbued sword or my strength and speed spell, I still knew the weak points to aim for. Unfortunately, a swipe at one of the zombie's Achilles tendons let me know the limits of my strength. Dodging a hand that was aimed for my throat, I circled behind the zombie, thinking. Clenching my jaw in frustration, I remembered the ocelot crunching through that fish's skull like it was nothing.

Oh, this better work. I grimaced as I tried not to think about how awful a zombie must taste given their smell. The other three were heading for me finally. Why they had stood watching me scratch up their...Oh, right. I guess zombies don't really have friends. I kited all four zombies away from my body until I had another opening. Seeing one, I dove for the already wounded zombie and chomped down as hard as I could on the back of his scratched up ankle. I shuddered at the taste of rotting flesh—licking a compost pile would have been more pleasant. I felt a satisfying snap as the partially decomposed Achilles tendon gave under the pressure of my teeth. I quickly leapt back as the zombie started to topple.

Having focused so heavily on one target, I'd accidentally allowed the armored zombie to get behind me. He grabbed my tail, causing me to yowl in surprise and jump. The mud clinging to my fur actually saved me. I was able to slip out of the zombie's tight grasp and whirl around to face the three that were still chasing me.

As I backed away from them, I realized my mistake. My tail brushed against something solid behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I found myself backed against a massive jungle tree on the edge of the clearing. Whether the zombies had intended to or not, they had slightly spread out, effectively cutting off any safe means of escape.

As I looked frantically for a way out, a thought occurred to me. What use is it keeping mental links with Dianite and Martha if I never use them? I would have face palmed if the situation were not so dire—and if I wasn't a cat. As I dodged a kick aimed at my head, I tried to reach either of them. Martha! Dianite! Help!!! I'm in serious trouble here, I mentally yelled as loud as I could. I hoped they would hear me wherever they were. I had never had a reason to test the strength of the connections before, and I got no response now.

I dodged another grab from the armored zombie, only to get punched by one of the others while my head was turned. Flying back against the tree's trunk, I shook my head and stood up again. Wait, the tree! I'm a cat after all. Not waiting for the zombies to get any closer, I turned and leaped nearly 10 feet up the trunk, gripping on with my claws and propelling myself higher. A hint of anger emerged in the zombies' growls and moans beneath me as they realized their prey had escaped them.

Reaching the tree's lowest branch, which was a good 20 feet off the ground, I lay down and panted, looking below at the frustrated undead circling my perch. I turned my head to where the zombie I'd disabled was lying. He—at least I'm pretty sure it was a he—wasn't moving anymore, and a black stain was growing on the ground beneath his legs. He's bled out; I must have caught the artery running down his leg when I bit him, I concluded after watching carefully for a minute or two and seeing no movement. At least I managed to take one of them down.

Dismissing the zombie that was no longer a threat from my mind, I looked over to the side of the clearing I'd started on. ...There was nothing there. "Where's my body!?" I shouted as I stood up on my branch trying to see if it was hidden behind one of the logs in the center of the flat space. I was nowhere to be found. My items would be lying on the ground if one of the zombies had gotten to me, but I didn't even see that in the darkness.

Disturbed and baffled by this discovery, I sat back down and started looking around at the trees neighboring mine. I was trying to plot a course that would take me back around the clearing without me having to fight the zombies all over again. There was a branch fifteen feet above me that would at least get me to the next tree over. Analyzing the branches further on, I nodded, satisfied with the route.

I turned and started climbing again as I thought about the jumps I'd be making. Aside from the fact I was now 30+ feet in the air, I wasn't too bothered by them. I grinned a little as I faintly remembered parkouring my way around my hometown when I was younger, back before my brothers and I had found the athar. That was a long time ago. I haven't thought about it in ages. Let's find out if I remember how to do this, I reflected as I scrambled up onto the branch I'd make the first jump from.

Pausing only long enough to take a deep breath and tune out the persistent zombies below me, I ran down the limb and leaped to a branch on the next tree, keeping my momentum as I moved on to the jumps after. Whether I still had some latent skill at free running or cats were simply that graceful, I made my way around the clearing's perimeter in very good time and with no missteps. The zombies still seemed to think I was up the first tree. I guess I shouldn't expect too much from them; their brains are rotted out after all.

Looking down from my new perch in the cocoa tree I had visited earlier, I saw I had made no mistake. My body was not there nor were my items. I had vanished. Swearing under my breath, I paced on my branch. Pausing, I came to a conclusion, "I need help. More people can cover more ground. I just hope undoing this spell isn't time sensitive."

I climbed higher into the tree until I reached the canopy. The branches up here were thinner and bobbed at my weight, but I needed to see more of the stars than I could from the clearing. I waited until the motion of my twiggy perch slowed before searching the sky for familiar constellations. Spotting a dragon constellation that I had seen my first night in Ruxomar, I was able to orient myself and tell which direction I needed to go to reach Tom's tree. Sitting in on a couple of  Winter's classes was one of the best decisions I've ever made. It might take me most of the night, but I will get back to civilization. With that thought, I descended through the canopy to the more sturdy branches beneath and started making my way home, hoping I wasn't too late to fix things.

Well, now you all know why I have the cover for this book that I do. >:) I wrote my first fight scene; hopefully it came out well. (I don't really count the one with the Sandlord's troops—that was pretty one-sided.) 

For all the biology nerds out there, yes, cats (and dogs) are red/green color blind, but they can still see pastel blues and yellows. They don't see in "black and white".

If you want to see just how badly Wag deals with being scared, go watch his Five Nights at Freddy's stream. Oh my goodness, I felt so bad for him by the end of it, but it was so funny. XD I got the bit about Wag doing parkour/free running from the Q&A video on his channel.