FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Author's note : This was first published under my old screen name "Arkyandragon".

---

Deep in the night, a light wind rustled at the trees in the forest, a bright, full moon hanging over the darkness, and a sudden howl wafted over the earth, echoing softly into the distance.

Jeremy woke up with a start. He became immediately aware that he was lying on the ground, his head propped up on a small pile of leaves. Lying flat on his back, all he could see was the lightly waving treetops above, catching a glimpse of moonlight between the leaves, and he cursed softly under his breath. It had happened again.

He tried to pull himself up off the ground, but his muscles screamed out in agony, and Jeremy let out a soft yelp of pain, collapsing once again to the ground. Panting heavily from the effort, he tried to look around him but saw nothing but the darkness of the forest. Again he cursed, as this was not the first time he had awaken in the middle of the night, far from the comfort of his bed, his home.

"Sleepwalking," a doctor, a psychiatrist, had told him once in the past. Sleepwalking caused him to wander from his home, moving blindly in his sleep, only to wake up lost and confused. Perhaps it could explain some things, but sleepwalking could not explain why he often awoke with gashes and bruises across his body. Sleepwalking could not explain why he often awoke, covered in blood - blood he feared was not his own.

Slowly, with a great effort, Jeremy managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, his muscles throbbing from some unknown damage. He tried to survey himself, but the trees refused the moonlight passage to the forest floor, and in the night all he could see of himself was a dark shape against a dark background. Looking around, he could vaguely discern that he was in some kind of shaded glade in the wood, and a haunting feeling of recognition seemed to shiver down his spine as he tried to see. He could feel the soft pile of leaves he had laid upon, and could not help but to think that the bed had been intentionally set up for him.

A lonely howl drifted across the wind again, echoing through the trees.

Jeremy perked up, his ears sharply registering the sound, an involuntary shiver running again down his spine. "Wolves,' he mumbled to himself. Wolves had been seen from time to time in the forests, but they tended to avoid civilization, and there had never been reported an attack on humans in these parts, and Jeremy went over these facts in his head as if to comfort himself. Somehow he felt afraid. Not afraid for his life - he instinctively knew he was not in danger, did not feel threatened, yet felt deathly afraid of something he could not explain.

Again, the howl carried across the wind. Closer.

Slowly, painfully, he struggled to pull himself to his feet. His muscles felt all wrong, twisted about somehow, as if they did not want to obey his command. Jeremy only was able to hoist himself to his feet with the aid of a tree he was nearby, pulling himself up against the sturdy and solid wood. A sudden dizziness clouded his thoughts, and an imaginary miasma swam across his already limited vision, and the tree was the only thing that kept him from falling back to the earth. His legs felt like gelatin underneath him, either unable or unwilling to cooperate and hold up his weight. He felt all unbalanced, as if the earth were slipping away underneath his feet, standing on an impossible incline, and he had to close his eyes forcefully to banish the sudden feeling of sickness.

It passed momentarily. Sucking down long, forced breaths of air, Jeremy was able to recover his senses. The tang of the cool, night air filling his lungs was refreshing, awakening, and seemed to deliver strength to his body, reviving his rubbery limbs. Before long, he was able to stand on his own two legs - barely - and still kept a hand firmly on the side of the tree, propping him up as he collected his thoughts.

He was lost. Jeremy did not know his way around these forests, but did know that they extended for miles and miles into the mountains that bordered the city. He had awaken many times in the forest, and at times had often wandered aimlessly, waiting until sunrise before he could gain a sense of direction and head home. Peering upward, he tried to catch a glimpse of the stars, but the high pines and other shorter trees blocked the sky, all but refusing even a diluted stream of moonlight below. The trees about him were dark, ominous shapes, and even his own hands and arms before him were merely shadows.

Then his ears rang as the sound of the howl filled the air again, this time much closer. He shivered. The howling was not threatening, and in a vague and senseless way felt familiar, beckoning, yet filled Jeremy with a sense of foreboding. Before the sound had died off, he had selected a random direction and set off.

Progress was slow. His legs still felt weak, wobbling, and the thick forest was obscured before him. He had to walk with his arms spread out, flailing before him to keep him from walking headlong into a trunk. Small bushes and undergrowth hindered his progress, threatening to trip him up, seeming to tug at him as he passed. For all he knew, Jeremy was moving farther and farther away from home, but could not stand to sit and wait for whatever it was that frightened him.

He would not have waited long.

Only a few short moments after moving along, another howl pierced the silence. This one, however, was very close. Instead of an echo drifting lazily on a breeze, the howl was a sharp, defined tone that seemed to rattle the very leaves of the forest. Jeremy yelped instinctively, hugging a nearby tree and freezing in his tracks.

For a long moment, the only thing he could hear was his ragged breath, and the insistent thumping of his heart in his chest. Then, just a few yards away, he could hear it. A quiet rustling in the trees, the sound of dried leaves crunching under a softly padding foot ... or paw. Certainly it was the wolf. The wolf had followed him, but why? For a frightening moment Jeremy wondered if nobody had told of wolf attacks because nobody had ever witnessed one and survived ...

Jeremy kept perfectly still, stifling his breath and trying to be as silent as he could. Still, he could hear the rustling, coming ever slowly closer. He imagined seeing movement in the trees, but in the darkness his eyes could have been fooling him. At the very least, he rationalized, there was only one wolf. Perhaps he could defend himself against one.

That was when he heard the voice.

It was a soft voice, low, almost inaudible against the backdrop of the gentle wind. At first, Jeremy strained to listen for the voice. Perhaps it was somebody who could help him?

"Kasha? Kasha, are you there?" the voice whispered softly, seeming to come from beyond the rustling of the wolf. "Kasha, it's me, Raylon ..."

Jeremy desperately wanted to call out to the voice for help, but instead bit his lip, trembling, trying to keep silent. It seemed the wolf stood between him and the voice. If he startled the wolf, it might attack before help could arrive ... and then the odd thought crossed his mind. What if the voice was calling to the wolf?

"Kasha? Is that you?" The rustling became very near, and Jeremy was certain he could see movement but a few yards away. "Kasha?"

At that moment, a particularly strong gust of wind above pushed the trees gently to the side, and a brilliant shaft of silver moonlight pierced the shade and lit up the forest. What Jeremy saw then made his heart freeze.

Standing no more than a half dozen yards away was a wolf, as he had feared. Much to his surprise and horror, however, the wolf was immense, and stood on two legs. Fully six and a half feet tall, rippling with muscles and what appeared to be vicious claws, the huge creature was staring directly at Jeremy. The word 'werewolf' screamed in his head, and a silent scream froze on his face.

As quickly as the forest had opened to the brilliant moonlight, it shut back in, engulfing Jeremy once again in darkness. Alone, with the wolf.

In as much time as it took to blink, Jeremy fled deeper into the forest. His legs immediately began to writhe with pain, threatening to fail at any second, but he paid no heed to the pain, pushing himself onward. Fear became the wind beneath his wings, guiding him deep into the forest. He had neither the time nor presence of mind to try and watch for obstacles before him, and by some chance of luck or fate, he managed to flee without running into any trees.

Jeremy dared not look behind him as he ran. His heart seemed to beat in his throat, throbbing into his ears, and all he could hear was his own panting breath as he ran. Instinctively he could feel the wolf pursuing him, though he never saw or heard anything to make him think it was there. Fear told him the beast was following, chasing him down, fear told him to run for his life.

Without warning, Jeremy burst forth into a large meadow, silver moonlight streaming down from the sky above. Stretching before him was a wide clearing, easily a hundred yards across, and on the other side, the forest loomed darkly ahead of him. For some twisted reason, he told himself that if he could make the trees, he would be safe. Pained and agonizing, his legs begged him to stop, but he pushed them on, pushed them hard.

Then, suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. He skidded to a halt just before tumbling headfirst into a swiftly moving river that was neatly concealed in the middle of the meadow. The water looked deep, dark and cold, and he instinctively knew that if he tried to cross, his failing muscles would give in to the current, dragging him to a watery death. But behind him, the wolf was certainly closing fast. He looked back to the river, trying to find some way across, but all he saw was the glinting of moonlight across the rippling water, and as he look, his heart froze in his chest.

Staring up at him, where his reflection should have been, was the face of a frightened and oversized raccoon.

Jeremy blinked, and the raccoon blinked back. A sudden rush of blood assailed his brain, and he stumbled back from the river a few steps. His arms flailed in the air in front of him as he fought to catch his balance, but to his horror, where his hands should have been, trembling paws clutched at the air. Dark fur creeped along the length of his arms. Shuddering, looking down, the same thick fur covered the entire length of his body, all the way down to his feet - his paws - and he became aware of a large, bushy tail protruding from his backside.

A tail.

Suddenly the world around him began to spin crazily. The ground seemed to rock, and his feet failed him, sending him careening to all fours. He writhed a long moment, shuddering, before losing all control, wretching up whatever last meal he had eaten, a thick sickness creeping into every fiber of his being, and his mind began to slip.

He became vaguely aware of the wolf now, standing but a few feet down the river, but somehow he did not care. Jeremy's world was spinning rapidly away, and his mind began to shut down, everything about him becoming an incoherent blur. Falling to his side, he clutched himself about the chest, and knew he was falling into the river. Cold wetness enveloped him, but he hardly noticed, and the world finally slipped away with the current.

###

Light. The first thing he noticed was the light.

Jeremy had been slipping in and out of consciousness for longer than he knew. Even now, his eyelids refused to fully open, as if his body was unwilling to allow him to wake. He felt terribly stiff all over, and knew better than to bother trying.

Through his half opened eyes, all he was certain existed was the light. A soft, ruddy light that seemed to bounce playfully about him - candlelight? Candlelight, or firelight, to be certain. Unless his senses had completely taken leave of him, and the dancing was in his mind. However, his ears began to register sound, and the faint crackling of embers became obvious. There was a small fire burning nearby, perhaps a fireplace.

Jeremy longed to feel the warmth. He felt cold, incalculably cold, as if something icy had penetrated the very fibers of his being, and he wanted to feel the warmth of the fire on his body, but still his body refused movement. For a pained moment, he wondered if something terrible had happened, if he had been paralyzed, and managed a soft groan.

In response to his stirring, he heard movement behind him, a quiet shuffling. Somebody had started a fire for him, brought him here ... had he been sleepwalking again? Perhaps he had fallen asleep outside, become hypothermic and near death, and some stranger had rescued him ... he heard the stranger behind him, tried to turn and see his benefactor, address them but still his body refused.

Vaguely he felt a pressure on his back, on his shoulders. The person was rubbing his back, rubbing life back into his deadened muscles. It felt neither painful nor good, as his body was still unable to tell the difference, but he was grateful to feel anything at all, and managed an appreciative groan.

"You're awake, I see," came a low voice behind him, a voice strangely familiar yet foreign. "I was worried that you might not make it." It was a man's voice, deep and almost growling, yet relaxing and wonderfully comforting to Jeremy's heart, and he felt an involuntary smile prick at the corners of his mouth.

Jeremy coughed lightly, and managed to form a few words. "Where am I?" he asked, in a raspy voice.

"Shhh," the soft voice behind him commanded. "Rest, you have a lot of resting to do before you are well enough to get up. You're in my home, where it is warm and safe."

He wanted to ask the voice who he was, wanted to know more, but could not disobey, his body gladly accepting the advice. Instead, he forced his eyes open, trying to focus an unsteady gaze on his surroundings. He was aware that he was lying on a makeshift bed of sorts, sprawled out on his stomach with his head turned to one side. The crackling fire must have been behind his head, where the voice came from, as all he could really see in front of him was what appeared to be a stone wall with firelight dancing across it. A thick blanket seemed to be stretched across his form, and he became aware of the smells about him - the faint scent of smoke, of damp earth, of pine.

He could feel hands rubbing life and warmth into his back. Why was he so cold? He seemed to remember something about falling into a river, a cold river, but the memory was cloudy - was it a dream? Had he walked into a river while sleepwalking? He could not tell, and squeezed his eyes shut, as if to ward out the confusion.

"You really had me frightened," the voice said as he rubbed. "The way you acted last night, so frightened and confused. I really thought I was going to lose you, Kasha," the voice said, laden with genuine compassion, and something that sounded like love.

Who are you to lose me? Jeremy thought the words but none came out. Then a strange realization crossed his mind - the voice had called him Kasha. He had heard that name before, recently, but could not place it. The name confused him, and as he thought another name came into his mind. Raylon. A name that at once evoked a poignant fear and a deep sense of comfort, of happiness. Who is Kasha, he tried to whisper. "Raylon," he managed, his voice not cooperating beyond that.

"I'm here, Kasha," the voice called out softly, almost at a whisper.

The voice made Jeremy feel very comfortable. Comfortable, yet very confused, almost frightened. The conflicting emotions seemed to battle within his thawing soul.

Kasha. Raylon. The names tugged at his memory. Shadows of feelings crossed the limits of his perception. Love. Passion. Fear. Confusion.

The wolf.

Jeremy's dormant muscles tensed at the sudden memory, bringing a sting of pain that coursed through his back, and he yelped softly. The wolf. Distant, artificial memories of running through a forest, running for his life, conflicted with the image of a large wolf. The image did not frighten him, but the running ... why the running? What was going on? "What is going on?" he croaked aloud, his voice growing stronger.

"You fell in a river, Kasha," the voice murred softly behind him. "You nearly drowned."

"Who is Kasha ... why are you calling me Kasha?"

The voice behind him seemed to pout. "You, love, you ... I don't think you are well yet."

Love? "Love?" Jeremy murmured, confused, trying to sort out the shadows of memories - or were they dreams? - in his head.

"Yes, yes, don't worry love ... I'm here to take care of you," the voice cooed softly.

Jeremy almost choked, the sensation of confusion growing into a rancid taste filling his mouth. A man, a strange man, calling him love? For a strange moment he felt disgusted - wanted to feel disgusted - but a vast warmth seemed to well up in his chest. He felt a hand touch his cheek, caressing it softly, gently. He opened his eyes.

The hand caressing his cheek was wrong. It looked too big, too hairy, almost covered with the dark gray hair - fur? And claws?

It was a paw.

Images of running through the forest flashed in his memory, and his heart thumped loudly. With a heaving motion, Jeremy managed to push himself up, trying to roll over on his back, his muscles throbbing in protest but a powerful and real fear, a need to know, overcame the pain and he saw, for the first time, the owner of the voice.

It was the wolf. The one from the dream/memory. The oversized, bipedal wolf, leaning precariously close to him, over the makeshift bed, firelight dancing in his eyes.

"Oh my god ..."

Jeremy instinctively pushed back, scooting away. He tried to tear the blanket away from him, but quickly realized it was no blanket, but a fur coat draped around his body - no, a fur coat that was his body.

"Oh my god ..."

The dream. The memory. Maybe it was both, Jeremy couldn't tell. His mind began to reel again, images becoming distorted. The wolf in front of him seemed to be saying something, grabbing at him, but either his ears or his mind did not register the sound. Maybe it was both. It was as if some strange and wonderful nightmare had taken possession of his mind, refused to let him go.

"Oh my god ..."

Confusion became dizziness, dizziness became darkness, and darkness became the welcome void of the unconscious. As he descended again into a kind of madness, seeing and feeling nothing, Jeremy vaguely became aware of a pleading, echoing voice in the darkness ... burning onto his memory before his mind let go.

"Not again, not again ... don't leave me, Kasha, don't leave me ..."

"... I love you."

###

Sometime during the night, a line of somber clouds had rolled in over the horizon and obscured the gleam of the moon.

Several hours had passed since dawn, but the clouds held the sunlight in check. The forest itself seemed somehow weighted down by the pressure of the clouds above, the trees seeming to sag, the wind stifled in a muted calm. The filtered sunlight cast a gray pall across the trees, their colors now but a sad series of dull greens and even duller browns.

It was a fitting match to the invisible cloud that hung over Jeremy's head.

He had suffered a series of fainting spells since the night before that had left him emotionally and mentally drained. Sometime after dawn he had managed to maintain enough control to keep from slipping back into a mental abyss, to confront the situation before him, but it did little to clear the haze of uncertainty in his mind.

The wan sunlight had found him sitting somberly outside what appeared to be the entrance to an oversized den. A well-worn path meandered through the forest and passed within a few feet of the entrance, connected to it by a much smaller footpath. Outside the den there was what appeared to be a small garden, tenderly cared for by its owner, and in the trees nearby hung laundry - laundry! - to dry in the sun.

Jeremy was sitting limply in a wooden chair, his eyes fixed on something, perhaps nothing, in the distance. A light blanket was wrapped around his frame, pulled tight, not so much to ward out the cold but to conceal himself underneath. He was vaguely aware of the fur - his fur - bunched up underneath the blanket, but had convinced himself that if he covered it, if he didn't have to see it, it would somehow go away.

And so might the wolf, he thought idly to himself.

He had become physically aware of his tail by this point. To him it felt uncomfortable, an alien appendage attached to his body, useless, pointless, wrong. It offended him. He avoided looking at anything that might remind him of his own image, but could not keep from seeing the ungainly muzzle protruding from his face, the nose that would not leave his field of vision, and it ate at him.

Surely, this had to be a dream - a nightmare.

His ears registered the sound of movement behind him, but he did not turn to look. Surely it was the wolf, and the last thing he wanted to see was the wolf. Jeremy's altered state, his body, was a paradox, it was unnatural, and he felt he could attribute it to a dream, perhaps some psychotic state, but the wolf seemed altogether too real to dismiss, and it bothered him.

A light and warm aroma of herbs filled the air, pricking at his nose, triggering an involuntary sniffing. The wolf appeared on the periphery of his vision, and Jeremy fought the urge to turn and look. It was not difficult to tell that he was carrying with him some kind of steaming teapot and a cup, carefully placed on a tray. It was the source of the tangy aroma that now filled the air. The wolf stopped directly in front of him, only a few feet away, and Jeremy focused his vision on the teapot, to avoid looking directly at the wolf. To avoid looking at his eyes. Somehow, it hurt immensely to do so.

"I've made you some tea, Kasha," the wolf spoke softly. "To warm you up."

Jeremy refused to budge.

The wolf - Raylon, he called himself - held the tray out to him. "Please, Kasha. You're still not well yet, you need to drink this."

"I know no Kasha."

A long moment of silence ensued before the wolf spoke again. "Yes. Jeremy. Please take some tea." His voice seemed terribly strained, almost hurt to speak his name.

Jeremy roughly reached for a cup of warm, steaming tea. His hands, his paws, felt terribly uncoordinated, and he had to concentrate to grasp the cup without spilling it. Good, something to concentrate on ...

Raylon withdrew the extended tray, setting it on a nearby tree stump. His eyes looked hopefully in Jeremy's direction, but his features were marred by a deep and abiding hurt. He had the countenance of one stricken by the death of a loved one. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but no words came out, and so he turned his head, shuffled back inside the den.

Jeremy almost choked, the emotion tangible in his throat. He chased it down with a generous swill of the herbal tea. A medley of flavors swirled in his mouth, danced across his tongue as he drank, but only one seemed to truly register with him - bitterness. Even as the warm brew coursed down his throat and soothed his aching bones, his heart seemed to grow a bit colder, a bit emptier. What he was doing was tearing up poor Raylon, and in the unfocused glance of his face Jeremy had seen while reaching for the tea, it was obvious he had been crying - a wolf crying? - and that fact made Jeremy hurt. It hurt immensely, and he had no idea why.

The wolf had said that he loved him. He loved Kasha.

Who was Kasha?

A strange part of Jeremy wanted to be Kasha. Wanted to be, or maybe knew that he already was, somehow.

Another swallow of the warm, soothing tea, another hope at drowning out the strange and conflicting ideas in his head. Surely this was some kind of dream, some kind of nightmare, but never before had a state of dreaming led him to feel the way he did now. Perhaps it was more like some kind of delusion - some fantasy of the mind - from which he was having trouble escaping.

Raylon loved him.

Jeremy had almost forgotten that word, love. Had forgotten what it meant, what it felt like to love, to be loved. Was this it, was this love, this strange knot of emotion that refused to leave, that tightened up in his throat whenever the wolf came around? At first he was certain it was fear, but what if in some strange way, he loved Raylon back?

His head began to swim again, feeling faint. He dropped the cup to the ground, which clattered in the dirt but did not break, and held his face up in his paws. He wanted to cry, but he could not. Raw and undefined emotion clouded his judgment, held him captive, and he was afraid of what it meant. Was he going crazy? Is this what it felt like to lose one's sanity?

Raylon had come. He must have heard the clattering of the cup, and had rushed out of the den, stood a few feet from him. "Are you all right, Kasha ... ah, Jeremy? Are you okay?" he asked, his voice pained and weary.

Jeremy trembled a long moment, then slowly raised his head to look up. He avoided the eyes, would not look into Raylon's eyes. Each time he did, he felt his grip on sanity loosen. Each time he did, he slipped a bit further into this ... this ... insanity. He had to take control, regain control of himself if he were to ever fight his way out of this mental delusion. "No. No, I am not okay," he grumbled, forcing the words through his clenched jaw.

"What is it, then?" the wolf asked, stepping closer. "What can I do to help you?"

"Tell me who Kasha is," he hissed.

At that, Raylon drew back, stricken. He stepped back toward the entrance to the den, almost trembling, before he spoke, his voice sounding forlorn and almost desperate. "Stop saying that! Kasha is you! God, please stop saying that, Kasha! You!" he said, yelping lightly before vanishing into the den.

Jeremy's head hurt. He could feel it throbbing, a pain shooting behind his eyes with each strained beat of his heart. He feared he would break. His heart, his head, something was going to give, something was going to snap, and if it did he feared that not even the release of death would free him from a damning and inescapable self-torture. Reality had already been gutted, laid bare, and if he did not do something soon, the same would happen to his sanity.

If it hadn't already.

A deep breath. The morning air was cool and refreshing, seeming to fill his lungs with a kind of energy. He could not just sit around while his world crumbled around him, while his mind slowly unraveled into oblivion. Standing, he let the blanket fall from his body, revealing the fur beneath. Raylon had apparently dressed him in shorts the previous night, hiding his nether region, but the ample grayish fur that lined his body defied his senses. It was wrong.

Wrong, perhaps, but he would deal with it. Now.

Slowly, he made his way toward the entrance to the den. Inside, the fire was still crackling, something seemed to be cooking in a large kettle. The wolf was seated on a short stool, facing into the fire with his back toward the door. From his hunched over posture it was obvious he had been crying.

Jeremy took a short breath. "Raylon."

The big wolf's ears perked up, and he turned to look up. "Yes?"

For the first time, Jeremy dared to look into his eyes. The wolf's eyes were a soft, earthy green color, filled with a deep sadness and yearning. Jeremy blinked, almost froze, and then spoke softly. "Who are you?"

"I'm ... me," the wolf said, confused. "I'm not sure what you're asking."

Jeremy sighed, wandering over to the bed he had slept on, sitting down on the edge. "God. I'm not even sure myself."

"I want to help you," Raylon said, his voice tender. "Tell me how to help you."

Another knot of confusion welled up in his throat, and Jeremy fought to swallow it down. "Tell me how you know me ... know Kasha."

Raylon smiled softly. "You ... we are mated. Lovers."

Jeremy shivered. The words sounded strange coming from another man, even stranger from a wolf, but sounded somehow true. "That's not possible. You're a wolf ..."

"So what?"

"And I ... I'm a raccoon?"

"Yes, and so?"

"That's not possible." Jeremy swallowed hard again, looking at his paws in disbelief. "This isn't possible."

Raylon cocked his head a bit to the side, thinking. "Okay, then, how about this. Why don't you tell me about Jeremy?"

"I'm Jeremy," he said, as if seeking self-affirmation. "Jeremy. A person, a human. I sleepwalk. I have a medical condition. Yes, that's it."

"But, there is no such thing as humans," the wolf said, looking concerned.

Jeremy blinked, stood still a long moment. A medical condition, yes. He had been sleepwalking, sleepwalking and dreaming. It was a medical condition, and he was dreaming, awful, horrible nightmares, wonderfully poignant and tangible nightmares, and he was living one right now. "Dreaming," he whispered aloud, "dreaming."

But the wolf was still there. He could not banish it from his dream, could not excise it from his mind. "Yes, a dream," the wolf spoke, softly. "It was just a dream, there are no such things as humans ... no such thing as Jeremy. Only Kasha, my love ... my love."

At some point Raylon had stood up, moved close to him, and now the big wolf laid a heavy paw on his shoulder, as if about to embrace him. "Jeremy," he whispered, and with a sudden violence pushed himself away. "No. There is a Jeremy ... I AM Jeremy," he cried out, his voice snapping. It was his voice though - the voice he had grown up with, his voice, not a dream - and he suddenly froze, blinking.

Raylon had hardly moved when Jeremy pushed away, his paw still extended and a hurt look on his face. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.

Jeremy concentrated a long moment on a thought, and began to pace. "So, you call me Kasha, you want me to be this Kasha ... all right then, explain something to me. If all this is real," he said, turning to face the wolf, gesturing randomly about, "if all this I not just some dream, some delusion, where did I come from? If there is no such thing as humans, if my name really is Kasha, how did I wind up naked and lost in the woods last night? Explain that!"

Of course there would be no explanation. Jeremy knew there was no way a dream could hope to explain the reality of the situation, when there was no reality. No explanation for how he entered the woods a man, and wound up becoming some kind of ... raccoon. Surely the dream would collapse on itself now, the delusion unable to sustain itself, and Jeremy would awake from his dream, wake from his sleepwalking, and find his way back home. To his house, to normalcy, far from the confusion.

"Your house," Raylon answered, simply.

"What?" Jeremy asked, barking at the wolf.

Raylon looked startled, and his voice was soft. "From your house. You came from your house in the city ... you came to the forest to see me."

"The city?" Jeremy asked, but did not wait for an answer. "The city? There you go then ... the city is full of humans."

The wolf just shook his head. "No, its not ... there are no humans, not in the city, not here in the forest, nowhere but in dreams ..."

Dreams? Jeremy was shocked, in disbelief. How could his own delusions challenge him? Had he so far lost his mind, lost his sanity that his mind had learned to contradict itself, to challenge its own reason? Dreams? "This ... this is a dream," he hissed, jabbing about, then pointing straight at Raylon. "All of this. You, you are just a dream. You can't be real, it's not possible."

"What has happened to you ... oh Kasha, what is wrong?"

"There is no Kasha! My name is Jeremy!" he barked.

"No." Raylon stood his ground, his voice becoming firm but still tender. "No, your name is Kasha. Kasha, my friend, my lover. You're sick. You need help ..."

Liar, he thought. Liar, stop trying to trick me! "Prove it! Prove it," he rasped, dangerously giddy.

"I don't know what's happened to you, to cloud your mind, but look into your heart, Kasha ... reach into your heart, then look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't Kasha. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't love me."

Jeremy paused. He looked up, straight into Raylon's deep, soft eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His will failed him, and he could not speak. The wolf was right, somehow he was right ... had the nightmare already grasped his soul? "My house ... let's go to my house," he croaked softly. He could not tell the wolf no, but he could show him. Show him his house, prove that he was Jeremy.

"Your house?" Raylon asked, still staring.

"Yes, my house." Slowly, Jeremy retook control of his wits. "We'll go to my house, and I'll show you there, everything you need to see the truth ... I'll prove to you who I am. Then you will be gone ... you'll go away, never to bother me again ..."

At that, the wolf blinked in disbelief. "What?"

"That's the deal. We go to my house. I'll prove to you that I'm not who you think I am. I'll prove to you this is a dream, a nightmare. Then you will go away."

Raylon nodded, slowly. "And what if you are wrong?"

Jeremy hadn't considered it. Suddenly he felt afraid - what if he was wrong? What would he do? But he couldn't be wrong, a delusion could never be right ... they would go home and the dream would end. "I won't be. Come on then, to my house. Take me to my house."

"You know the way," Raylon suggested.

"No, no ... you won't trick me that way!" he said, nodding to himself. "You are going to lead the way. You are going to take me to my house, and won't say a word on the way. When we get there, you'll see that you are wrong ... I'll see that you are wrong ... and I'll wake up. The dream ends."

Raylon's countenance fell, saddened by the strange display. "Only because I love you, Kasha. We will go. If it has any hope of helping you, we will go."

Without another word, the wolf made his way toward the exit, and began to wander down the path toward the city.

Jeremy nodded, following behind, satisfied that at the end of this path was freedom, a way back to normal ...

Yet, at the back of his mind, another part of him realized that if the road did not end how he expected, he would never be able to go back. That same small part of him hoped it would be so.

###

Shortly before noon, the clouds that had hovered over the forest passed, melting into the distance, and the bright yellow sun enveloped the trees in a warm embrace. The woods responded, bowing in the gentle breeze that swept overhead, the light swishing of limbs and leaves a happy chatter. Birdsong answered, and in but a few moments the entire forest seemed to have come alive with life, alive with laughter.

Jeremy hadn't noticed. His own personal cloud still seemed to cast a shadow over his heart, over his mind, and inside he felt as cold as night despite the warm sun at his back. He trudged silently behind the wolf, hardly noticing where they walked, the twists and turns and intersections in the dirt path. They had passed a number of what were obviously other dens on the side of the path, but he either did not notice them or refused to acknowledge them.

Ahead of them lay the city. It could not be far, Jeremy estimated, not long until this nightmare had come to an end. The delusion would be over.

Yet Jeremy found it increasingly difficult to call it a nightmare. Nightmares were frightening, horrible manifestations, dreams to send a chill down one's spine and a cold fire into one's heart. This place, it frightened him, but it did more. It saddened him, put him on an emotional defensive.

It confused him.

He was not used to such confusion, had never had to fight such a twisted battle in his own mind. He usually was a strong willed person, able to seize the moment and take control, even when faced with insurmountable challenges. But this, this was different. He was sleepwalking, and he wasn't in control. He was sleepwalking, and the dream was leading him on.

The dream was taking control. It was winning, and that was what Jeremy feared more than anything.

His eyes flitted about, tried to take in the scenery around him, though his mind all but refused to look, refused to accept. He was in a dream world, after all. Soon it would be cured, they would reach the city, they would reach his house and he would be cured of the delusion.

Jeremy thought in silence, contemplating without making a sound. Perhaps if he made no sound the delusion would forget about him and leave?

Suddenly the slope of the path changed, and he became aware they were picking their way down a rolling hill. The forest was becoming thinner here, more and more light from the sun above spilling onto the pathway below, and not far into the distance the vestiges of a clearing could be seen. Recognition pricked at the back of his mind, and things began becoming clear ...

Jeremy knew where they were.

He had been here before. He knew the slope of the hill, the trees, he had been here. There, just beyond the edge of the forest, was the outskirts of the city. Civilization. Sanity.

Jeremy broke into a sprint. He could feel himself taking control again, and it gave him strength. One glance at the city and surely the nightmare would be gone. Passing Raylon, he began to laugh to himself. He was winning now, it would be over and life would return to normal. He could awake from this delusion.

Sunlight burst around him as he cleared the last of the trees. Then he froze.

Any sense of control slipped away.

The city was there, just as it had always been. Buildings rose up from the ground at the bottom of the gently sloping hill. The path wandered down to the end of a long, residential lane, the streets widening out and crisscrossing the city in a regular patchwork pattern. In the distance, in what was the more commercial part of town, movement could be seen bustling about.

Yet it was all wrong.

The first thing he noticed was the streets. Where dark asphalt once lined the ground, dirt and cobblestones took its place. That, and there were absolutely no cars. There were, as always, buildings tall and short lining the streets, lined up in rows, but they seemed somehow out of place. Jeremy was not sure what it was, but they were wrong as well. What stood out to him most, however was the people.

Lack of people was a more appropriate observation. In their places, buzzing along the sidewalks, were animals. Walking, talking animals. Cats, foxes, skunks, all variety of strange animals, wearing coats and hats and pants ... all animals.

Jeremy felt the world slip out from under him. His legs failed, and he let himself collapse to the earth, not caring where he landed. He vaguely felt himself tumbling down the slope, sticks and leaves clinging to his fur, scratching at his hide beneath, but the pain barely registered.

The hill was mercifully short, and he came to a rest with his face in the air. The brilliant sun shone down from above, beating into his eyes but he hardly blinked. He heard the sound of hurried footsteps - pawsteps? - and Raylon entered his field of vision. The wolf kneeled on the ground over him, and was saying something, but Jeremy's ears were still ringing from the fall and heard nothing for several minutes. He looked up at the sun and the wolf, feeling vastly detached ...

"... you okay? Can you hear me, Kasha? Please answer me ... can you get up?" the wolf's voice finally broke through the ringing in his ears.

Jeremy groaned. The pain from the fall finally registered, and he clenched his jaw against the unwelcome sensation. With some effort, and a bit of help from the big wolf, he was able to pull himself up to a sitting position. "No, no I'm not okay. But I can get up."

Raylon looked him over cautiously, helping him to his feet. "Are you sure you aren't hurt?"

Jeremy looked himself over and shrugged. "I really don't know," he answered, tearing his eyes from himself, unwilling to acknowledge his form.

"You should be more careful," Raylon urged, squeezing his hand.

Jeremy blinked and realized the wolf was still holding his hand, and tore it away roughly. "Yeah, whatever. Let's just go." With that he pushed his way ahead, blindly taking the lead toward his house.

"Kasha, really ... what do you expect to find?"

Jeremy did not answer. Instead, he quickened his pace, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground a few feet ahead.

Raylon followed behind, still speaking softly. "Please Kasha, enough of this. Please just sit down and let's talk ... talk things over, tell me what's wrong."

"Jeremy. The name is Jeremy."

He had intended to silence the wolf and succeeded. Raylon followed in silence the rest of the way.

The walk was not long, as Jeremy's home was near the edges of the city. He silently rationalized to himself that it was the reason for the midnight walks into the forest, the reason that his sleepwalking took him there. Just like this time, except that now he was still stuck in that nightmare, seeing the world through half-closed eyes. Eyes that he hoped would open again soon.

Finally they arrived at his home. He instinctively knew it was the right place, without looking up to be sure. Jeremy paused a long minute, looking at the verge of the grassy lawn, before he let his eyes wander up to look at his house.

At first glance, it looked to be the same home he remembered. Nothing special, nothing flashy, just a simple and aging brick home that he had purchased not long ago. The lawn looked properly groomed, the hedges trimmed, the front porch well cleared. He tentatively made his way up the path to the front door, looking slowly about. Everything seemed to be in place, but he had an inherent fear that it would all slip away somehow. He reached and found the spare key exactly where he always left it, in a small hollow over the door, and turned it over in his paw. Everything looked right, but still felt wrong. He didn't know what it was, but it was still all wrong. Slipping the key into the lock, he opened the door and stepped into the house.

It took a long moment for his eyes to adjust to the relative darkness, as for some reason he did not have the presence of mind to turn on the light. The front room looked to be fine. The couch and the recliner, the short end table, all right where he expected them to be. Stepping inside, the thick, shaggy carpet fuzzled under his paws, putting a spring into his step as it had always done.

Still, it wasn't right. Moving into the darkened hallway, he found his way into his bedroom. There, sitting in the corner, was his narrow bed. The sheets, the blankets, everything was just the way it should have been. But somehow wrong.

He heard a shuffling behind him, and turned to see Raylon standing in the hall, poking his head sheepishly around the corner. That the wolf was still there meant he had yet to break out of the dream, but seeing him there gave him a strange twinge of comfort. "You can come in," he said quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

The big wolf responded by stepping out from the doorway, tail swishing lightly behind him, picking a seat gingerly next to Jeremy, not too close but close enough to feel his presence. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Jeremy folded his arms in front of him, leaning over and looking at his ... feet? He wanted to lash out at the dream, wanted to lash out at Raylon, make him go away, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he looked up at the wolf, out of the corner of his eye, confused. A wolf in a man's clothing, literally. He would never have expected it, not in the most twisted of his dreams, not before today. "I don't know," he sighed. "I really don't know."

Raylon resisted the temptation to put his arm around Jeremy, but did not conceal his desire to do so. "Maybe that's because there's nothing here to find."

Jeremy blinked, and felt his vision constricting about him slowly. He desperately needed to find something, something to dispel the delusion, but found nothing about him. The room looked comfortable, familiar, all except for the inhabitants in it. Nothing had changed since this morning. He might as well still be back in the wolf's den for all it mattered ...

Suddenly an idea tickled at the back of his mind. "Why do you live in the forest?" he asked the wolf.

The wolf perked up, looking a little confused but happy to make conversation. "It's where I've always lived."

"But why live in a hole in the ground when you can live in the city?"

"Why not?" Raylon asked, innocently.

Jeremy looked at him disparagingly. "Living without electricity? Modern conveniences? Don't you think it's just a little too ... convenient for this little fantasy?" He was sure the wolf would not have an answer for him, and he had found his way out.

"Electrici ... what?"

"Electricity," Jeremy answered impatiently, and reached up to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

Except that it wasn't there.

His hand - paw - stopped short of where the electric lamp should have been. In its place was an old-fashioned looking oil lamp. He fumbled, knocking over a framed picture that set next to it, sending it crashing to the floor. Nervously, trembling, he reached down to pick up the picture, a picture he had taken with his family some years ago. He picked it up, and the glass had shattered, but sweeping it away he was able to get a good look at the picture itself.

Grinning back at him was a family of raccoons.

It was too much for him. Somehow he expected it, somehow he knew what he was going to see, but he couldn't handle it. The picture frame fell, clattering to the ground, while his head slumped. He felt a wave of dizziness lurch into his body, his insides twisting violently, and he pulled his head between his knees, suddenly feeling lightheaded and short of breath.

He felt a pressure on his back. Raylon had wrapped an arm around his shoulder, holding him steady, keeping him from collapsing to the ground below. "Steady Kasha ... are you okay?"

The arm felt warm on his shoulders. The big wolf's presence next to him felt comforting, reassuring, and he managed to let go of his futile resistance to the allure of the delusion, if just for a moment, and leaned heavily against Raylon, burying his face in the wolf's side. "I don't know ... I just don't know anymore."

Then he cried.

He let go of all his inhibitions at once and cried. Deep, long sobs wracked his frame, cleansing him from the inside out. For the first time since awakening in the dream, he let his defenses down. A day and a half worth of confusion, anger and fright bled from his body in a matter of a few minutes, leaving him in the form of generous tears. For several long minutes he became oblivious to the world around him, feeling only the sobs that tore at his body and the pain as it fled from his mind, slowly ...

Then he became aware of a soft caressing at the back of his neck, behind his ears, and his back suddenly tensed.

Raylon had embraced him in a gentle hug as he had cried, one paw rubbing softly behind his ears. With an unintended violence, he pushed away from the big wolf. A damp spot on his shoulder was displayed like a badge of tenderness, and the look on his face matched. "What are you going to do now, Kasha?"

Kasha. The wolf called him Kasha, despite the fact that he had told him many times over his name was Jeremy. As much as he wanted to, he did not feel offended, could not feel upset at the gesture. Perhaps some part of him inside wanted to be Kasha. Perhaps some part of him inside truly was Kasha.

Ridiculous.

"I don't know what I am going to do. I don't know what I can do," he said, lost in his own thoughts.

Raylon swallowed hard, looking him over. "You said you were coming here to show me that this was a dream, a nightmare. You said you were going to show me that it was all wrong. You didn't find what you were looking for, did you?"

Jeremy shook his head, but said nothing.

"That is because there is nothing here to find, love. What is here is the same as it was yesterday, and the same as it will be tomorrow. You will find no Jeremy here, you will find nothing to tell you this is a dream, or anything but real. Kasha," Raylon said, holding Jeremy with a gaze that he could not break, "the only nightmare here I fear is losing the one I love while he yet stands before me. Please, Kasha, I have to know ... what are you going to do?"

Jeremy tried to look away but he could not. He tried to ignore the wolf, tried not to hear what he said, but he could not deny the import of what was said. The words tugged at strange corners of his heart, played with his emotions in ways that he would never have guessed possible, and the confusion left him not knowing what to say. "I don't know. I need help."

The wolf nodded, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Please tell me how I can help you."

"I don't know. I ..." Jeremy began, but trailed off. He needed help, yes. He knew that he needed answers, and needed them desperately, but at this point he was not sure he knew what the questions were anymore. Who could answer an unasked question? Who could solve a mystery obscured in a riddle? He began to wonder if an answer - or even a question - existed at all. Perhaps he would be forever abandoned in this unwelcome fantasy. "I need answers. I need to understand."

"What do you need to know? What don't you understand?"

Jeremy blinked distantly. "I don't know. If I knew I wouldn't have to ask, I wouldn't have to wonder."

Raylon fell silent for a long moment, thinking, when an idea manifested itself to him. "You are seeking answers but you don't know which answers you seek. You speak of being lost in a dream. I know little of such things, but I know of someone who might be able to help you."

Jeremy looked up, suddenly hopeful. A way out? "You do? Where are they?"

Raylon stood, extending a paw to help Jeremy up, a sudden urgency burning behind his eyes. "Come on, just follow me. It isn't far," he said, nearly dragging him through the hall and out the door.

He could do little but stumble along. The day had left him nearly bereft of energy, and the discovery - or lack thereof - in his house had left him emotionally drained, lacking of any willpower. Raylon promised a way out, promised an answer to the unasked questions. Was it possible that the dream would answer itself? Perhaps that was the riddle, to play it out to its own end.

Whatever the case, Jeremy followed blindly along. He closed his eyes as he followed, clutching dangerously at the wolf's paw in his own. He felt as if he were standing upon the edge of a great precipice, and cared not to look and see his own fate, and was pulled deeper into the dream. Where the path ended - sanity or delusion - he knew not, but he felt they were coming to an answer. And answers were what he needed most.

###

Strong hints of chamomile and lavender wafted slowly across the air, the scents bearing heavily on Jeremy's senses, bringing a calming hush upon his heart. He was seated in a small foyer of some kind, a small room on the end of a short hall. Faint notes of relaxing music drifted along with the scents, coming from some hidden source down the hall. The lighting had been dimmed here, thick lacy curtains pulled over the slotted windows, and a single oil lamp perched on the opposing wall lighting the room.

Jeremy was seated on a long, backless couch of sorts, a kind if upholstered bench. His shoulders slumped down visibly, a burden on his face despite the relaxing atmosphere of the room he was in. He was still in a bit of a daze, had been in a daze since Raylon had dragged him from his home. He wasn't sure where they had gone, wasn't even sure how far they had gone, and simply allowed the wolf to drag him across the city to this place.

He feared this would be his last stand.

He had hoped to find refuge in denial, hoped to find release in his home, but none had come. The delusion and only grown thicker around him, wrapping itself about him in a kind of false comfort, lulling him into complacency until he abandoned himself to the dream, abdicated his sanity and lost his identity.

Unless he had already gone crazy.

Raylon had promised him that he knew of a place to find answers, knew of someone who would unravel the mystery, but it seemed to convenient. Perhaps the wolf truly did mean to help. He did, however, love him, or love Kasha at the least, and seemed concerned, but it was too easy that way. Certainly the dream would not give itself up? Jeremy thought he was being cynical but couldn't be sure. The only thing he could be sure of was confusion.

Then, above the turmoil of his own mind, he heard a shuffling in the hall beyond. He lifted his shoulders just enough to let him gaze in that direction, and he saw the big wolf emerge from a room near the end. Raylon wore a look of concern, a look of fright, and a look of sadness, and his own emotions seemed to bear down on him physically, his step becoming pained and his body - down to the fur of his arms and legs - seemed to be drooping.

Following shortly behind was the first person - animal? - besides Raylon that he had bothered to look at directly. She was a coyote, and obviously female from the familiar bulging chest under her clothing. Animals with breasts?

Ridiculous, Jeremy thought.

The coyote was slender, standing well over a foot shorter than Raylon. Her fur was a sandy brown color, although in many places seemed to fade to a silvery gray. Her midnight black eyes reflected the same burdens of age, and Jeremy correctly guessed that she was advanced in her age. Her gait was even but careful, and did not move with the same fluid energy as the wolf. She wore about her a simple, flowing robe that seemed to be as light as gossamer on her shoulders, a dusky brown color that seemed to somehow glitter in the dim light, but surely it was little more than his imagination.

"Kasha?" Raylon spoke up as he entered the short foyer. "Kasha, this is Sami. I think she might be able to help you."

Jeremy regarded the wolf harshly. "Help me ... how is she going to help me? What is all this, anyway ... some kind of gypsy fortune teller?"

Raylon looked hurt, and was about to speak when Sami interrupted. "No one here is going to tell your fortune, Kasha." Her words were soft, but rang with a clarion quality that was almost musical in the ears. She extended a slender paw in Jeremy's direction. "All I wish to do for you is listen. Come."

Listening. Raylon had offered to listen but he had turned him down at every opportunity. Poor Raylon. He inwardly wondered at himself, how could he treat the wolf this way, after all the kindness and love he had shown him ...

Jeremy tensed. His thoughts seemed self-contradicting, and he no longer wished to be alone with them. Nodding, he took the accepted the outstretched paw and stood up. Silently, the coyote led him down the darkened hall, and he kept his eyes fixed in front of him, but was keenly aware of Raylon watching him from behind.

Sami led him down the corridor and in to an adjoining room. To his surprise the room was actually a kind of atrium, an indoor garden of sorts. Filtered sunlight washed over them from high above, and numerous fragrant plants and flowers were carefully and artfully arranged about the room. From somewhere nearby the dulcet tones of music drifted into the garden, but he had no idea from where it came.

The coyote released his grip, and gingerly sat herself down on a large flagstone set into the ground. She motioned for Jeremy to do the same. "Sit," she commanded lightly.

He obliged, and sat himself down on the cool stone. Suddenly he had the urge to curl up into a ball, fall to sleep on the cool earth, but held himself up, and awaited what would come.

Sami also waited a long moment before speaking, taking a deep breath. "Your friend tells me that you are unhappy. He tells me you are very confused ... that you believe yourself to be a human."

Jeremy nodded, but did not speak.

"Tell me then," she asked, her voice still soft and flowing like water. "Tell me why you believe yourself to be a human."

"Because I am," Jeremy said, asserting himself. He believed he was a human because it was the truth. It had to be the truth.

"And what of this, what you see around you?" she asked, gesturing about randomly. "What of me, and what of yourself? Surely you do not look to be a human to my eyes. Why is it different to you?"

"Because this ... this is not real. You are not real, Raylon is not real, and I am not real. Not like this."

Sami nodded, knowingly. "You believe yourself trapped in a dream."

A dream. It was worse than a dream, he thought. A nightmare, a vivid delusion that refused to release his mind. It was the threat of insanity, the threat of losing oneself in the depths of his own confusion. It was sleepwalking, he was sleepwalking. "Yes," he answered, simply.

"Why do you believe you are dreaming?"

What a silly question, Jeremy thought. "It is a dream because none of this is real."

Sami tilted her head lightly to the side. "How do you know that?"

"I know that because there are no such thing as talking animals. They don't walk on two legs, they don't wear clothes, and they don't talk. This is all wrong. This must be a dream." A delusion. Sleepwalking.

"Then tell me, what makes walking and talking humans any more real than a walking and talking coyote?"

"That's silly!" he blurted out. "How do you expect me to answer that? It just does. It's just the way it is."

Sami looked at him a long moment, peering into his eyes. "If this is a dream. If you are dreaming right now, then am I any less real for the moment? You can see me, you can hear me. Am I any less real to you now than humans would be to you when you awake?"

"No." Jeremy shook his head, resolutely. He was not going to fall for this trap. "I'm not going to play this game. I don't want to be a part of this dream, I don't want to participate in this delusion. I want to wake up. I want it to all go away."

"You would go back to being a human?"

He nodded his head vigorously. Finally, some sense. "Yes, that's what I want."

"Why?" she asked, innocently.

Jeremy looked at her, incredulous. "Why? Because this is fake, this is a dream. It's not real, it's madness. You don't expect me to live forever in madness. I'd be locked away, drugged up, it would be madness. I can't live in a dream forever."

"But what if you already have?"

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Sami stood up slowly, turning gently to sniff at a fragrant flower nearby, before slowly pacing about the garden, her paw running lightly against the green foliage. "Answer me this. What is the first thing you can remember? Your earliest memory, from your childhood?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Please. Just answer," she urged with her gentle voice.

Jeremy blinked a long minute. "When I was three. I remember being three, and going on vacation with my parents. I don't remember it clearly. I just remember the pine trees, and the campfire ... it's hard to say, my memory of it is vague."

Sami nodded slowly, listening. "All right. Now, can you tell me, what is the last dream you remember having - before this one?"

"I dreamed about sailing, I think. A friend of mine had a sailboat, and we were out on the lake, with some women, I think ... or there was somebody there with us. I can't seem to remember it very clearly, it's vague."

"Kind of like your childhood memories."

Jeremy nodded. "Yes, kind of the same idea ..." he began, and stopped short. A cold flash suddenly streaked down his back, and he looked up at her sharply. "What are you trying to say?"

"I think you know what I am saying," the coyote spoke softly, her eyes sharp. "Who can draw the line between dream and reality? In your memory, it is the same."

"No, it's not." Jeremy shook his head vigorously, but felt dizzy. "It's different. I went on the trip, but not the sailboat. That was just a dream."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do!" Jeremy shouted, stiffening his back. "I just ... do," he said, trailing off. What if he hadn't gone on that trip as a child? What if it were just a remembered dream ... what was the difference?

Sami paused a long moment before speaking. "There are those who say that there is no difference between dreaming and reality. There are those who say that they are one and the same. Is it not possible that you only dreamed being a human, and that this is the reality?"

"No, no it isn't." Was it?

"Why not?"

"Because ... because it isn't." Jeremy struggled for a long moment, trying to think. It wasn't possible, was it? Certainly there had to be a reason. "Twenty five years, that's what. For twenty five years I've lived my life, and never had anything like this happen. I have twenty five years of memories as a human. Memories, not dreams. I've no memory of this ... this."

"Don't you?" the coyote asked softly, kneeling next to him and nearly whispering. "Raylon, the wolf. You know him better than you realize you do. Look into your heart. You know how you feel for him ... could not these memories be as real as any other?"

Jeremy shivered. "No, I don't know him ... I don't know what you are talking about." I love him. "I just met him ... no, I just imagined him yesterday." I love him with all my heart.

"You know it yet you deny it in your heart ... why deny what you feel is true? Why deny your feelings, deny who you are?"

"I'm not denying anything. I'm Jeremy." I'm Kasha. Raylon is my ... "Raylon is my imagination. He's not real. He's ..." my lover. My soulmate. "I don't know. None of this is real." He looked up at Sami, confused, wanting an answer. "Are you trying to tell me my whole life up till now is a dream? I can't accept that."

Sami rested a gentle paw on his shoulder. "No, Kasha, I am not trying to tell you anything you do not already know. I told you, no one knows the line between what is dream and what is real. Least of all me. Only you can decide for yourself which is real, if this is a dream or if this is real."

This is a delusion. It is pulling me in. "I'm confused ... I don't know." This is real. Please don't let me go back. Please help me go back. "What do I do?" he asked, tears welling up in his eyes.

"I can't tell you what to do," Sami whispered softly. "I do not have the answers for you, Kasha. Only you do. You are the only one who can decide which is real. I cannot tell you which path you must choose, I cannot decide your fate for you. The only thing I can do is open your mind to itself, open your heart to the truth."

Jeremy shuddered again, biting at his lip. He was confused. Surely he was dreaming. A nightmare, a delusion, sleepwalking. Surely he was going crazy. The only truth that he could think of was that he was going nuts.

I have to go back, he thought to himself. Except that he loved Raylon, he couldn't leave Raylon. He had to stay here with his mate, he couldn't leave ... except that he wasn't real. Was this a voice in his head? Was this Kasha?

Yes.

So this is what it felt like to go crazy. Jeremy and Kasha. Which one was real? Which was the truth ... or maybe he was just crazy, just insane, and already the delusion had stripped him of any hope of sanity. His vision felt blurry. "Open my heart to the truth. What truth is that?"

"That the truth is within you," she said, standing up again. "Neither myself nor anyone else can tell you which is the truth, or what you must do. That is something you must decide. To stay here, or to go back. Decide which is the dream."

"How do I choose?" he asked weakly, confused.

"When you have decided which is the dream, you will have already chosen," she answered, and extended her paw in his direction again. "Come now. I have done all that I can for you. There is little more that can be done except for you to make your decision."

"I'm confused. I don't know where to go or what to do," he thought, taking her paw. I need to wake up, need to get on with life, need to leave this delusion behind. "What happens now?" Don't let me go, I need to stay, I need to stay.

Sami smiled softly at him, helping him to his feet. "Go home, get some rest. Find somewhere private where you can think things over."

Jeremy nodded, his head swimming, and followed as she led him back out of the atrium.

"Don't be afraid to talk about it, either," she added. "Talk to Raylon. He'll listen, he's a good wolf, and he loves you dearly. Your silence is killing him, and talking about it might help to clear your mind."

Jeremy continued to nod, quietly, following behind. Then, suddenly, he stopped. "Tell me one thing. If this is all a dream, and I wake up, what happens to everything? What happens to Raylon, to you, to everything here I see? Or if I stay, and decide that this is real, what happens to my life as a human, to my friends there? Where does it all go?"

"I don't know," Sami answered softly, and then pulled at him to continue. "But there is only one way for you to find out. Come now. You need to go, and find your way."

Jeremy sighed deeply a moment, then nodded in agreement. The pair made their way back into the hall and out into the foyer, where Raylon was waiting nervously on the couch. His ears perked up a bit as he saw them approaching, and he stood up. "Kasha? Feel any better?"

Sami did not give him any time to answer, and spoke. "He will need some time to think, Raylon. Do not push him to a decision, only support what he decides, understand?"

Raylon nodded slowly, stepping over to help Jeremy, who looked to be physically weak and almost unable to support his own weight. "You look tired, Kasha. Let me take you home to get some rest."

Jeremy nodded. "Yes, please. Take me home, Raylon. I need to sleep."

The big wolf nodded, and nearly ended up carrying Jeremy as they went. It was well that way, as Jeremy lost himself to his confusion halfway there and slipped out of consciousness.

###

Morning came with a rush. Sleep had been elusive that night, his mind plagued with nameless and faceless frights. As his eyes flew open, a rush of blood seemed to wash into his brain, pounding heavily in his temples. Groaning softly, he pulled himself slowly out of the bed and hung his legs loosely over the edge. He could tell that it was dawn outside, but the curtains in the bedroom seemed to have been closed tightly, warding out all but the vaguest hint of sunlight.

Raylon must have done it. His memory of the last night was terribly fuzzy, even the last day seemed to have gone by in a blurred and confused kaleidoscope of images and twisted emotions that he would rather not have thought about, but that much seemed clear enough. The big wolf had nearly carried him home, as his legs and his energy had failed him, helped him into the bed and tucked him in lightly. He could almost still feel the soft kiss on his forehead that bid him goodnight.

It must have been the wolf who had shut the curtains for him. He had gone to great lengths to make him feel comfortable.

"Raylon? You still there?"

He waited a long moment but there was no answer. Somehow he figured the wolf would have waited out the night, at least in his home if not at his side.

Another ache ran up his side, and he had to clutch the edge of the bed to keep from falling over. Yesterday had been as hard on him physically as it had been mentally. He could only hope that today would be less harsh on him, that things would get back to normal. Maybe yesterday had been nothing more than a long dream, and the aches he was feeling was the result of having slept far too long.

He wished that Raylon were there.

It was a long moment before he managed to pull himself out of the bed. His muscles ached and felt in need of a massage. The bouncy carpet felt good against the bottoms of his feet, and he had to lean heavily against the bed to keep from falling over.

He needed a drink, he needed something to help him wake up. His mind was still fuzzy, still not quite running, and it would help take his mind off the events of the last couple of days. He wobbled slowly toward the door in the hall, almost having to fumble in the strange darkness that pervaded the bedroom. The door was closed, and he closed his fingers around the knob, the brass feeling cold against him.

The door to the hall swung open with a slight rush of air, and a foreign scent that tickled at his nose.

It smelled vaguely of chamomile and lavender.

Suddenly he felt dizzy, and leaned against the wall to steady himself. "Raylon?"

The hall was strangely dark as well. The curtains had been pulled tightly over the window nearby, but the filtered sunlight that snuck through did little to illuminate anything. The darkness disoriented him, and the strange smells that seemed to come from nowhere caused an anxious ripple to rise up in his chest.

He had to choose.

He had to see.

Stumbling over himself, he managed to fumble his way over to the window. The curtain seemed to be stretched taut over the window, unnaturally heavy in his grip. He tugged at the fabric several times, trying to pull it aside with no effect, when with a sudden jerk the curtains gave, and the dazzling daylight suddenly flooded the hall. The unexpected contrast pained his eyes, and for a moment he was rendered blind. Instinctively he threw up his arms to block his eyes from the stabbing light.

Slowly his vision returned, painfully, causing his eyes to throb. First shadows, blurry and indistinct shadows, slowly coming into focus. Blinking, he pulled his hands away from his face, and looked at them.

Hands.

The realization hit him like a pile of bricks. Hands, not paws. Smooth, slender fingers, covered in hairless skin and not fur. Hands, human hands.

Kasha yelped and jumped back in revulsion.

"Raylon? RAYLON?"

He shuddered and spun on his heels, trying to avoid looking, as if he could hide from the light. Clumsily, he fumbled his way back toward the bedroom. He whimpered softly to himself. He needed Raylon, needed his strong arms around him.

Where was the wolf?

Dizzy, Kasha stumbled into the bedroom, nearly falling over on the bed. Where was Raylon? The wolf had been there the night before, he had helped him go to sleep. He remembered that clearly enough. He remembered that. The rest of the day had been a blur ... and then he remembered something about breaking glass. The picture.

Shakily, he glanced down at the ground. Sure enough, next to the bed still lie the picture frame. The light coming in from the hall glinted off the glass splinters, confirming at least that memory as well. He had dropped the picture, dropped it but he wasn't sure why.

Yet he suspected that he knew the answer.

Shaking, he reached down for the photo below. Kasha was careful to brush the shards of glass away, trying to focus on the photo and not his hands. He felt the smoothness of the picture in his fingers, and swallowed as he pulled it into the light.

The dim light flared of the glossy surface a moment, and then came into focus. It was a family portrait all right, but it could not have been his family portrait. It was a portrait of humans, bald-faced, smooth, monstrous humans.

The stuff of dreams, the stuff of nightmares.

Kasha yelped involuntarily, and let the picture go fluttering back down to the floor. He felt very dizzy, felt he was going to pass out. He needed to find some help. With an effort he stumbled out of the bedroom.

"Raylon?" he tried to call out, but his voice was hardly a whisper.

The hall suddenly seemed to close in on him, began to twist and undulate before him like a snake. Kasha knew that the hall was not actually moving - or perhaps it was, in some kind of dream state - yet his feet still gave out from underneath him. He tried to steady himself on the walls, but couldn't. Perhaps it was his unnaturally smooth palms, perhaps the insane rippling he imagined, but the wall would not support his weight.

Kasha crashed to the floor, landing in a supine position. As he did the world crashed around him, his vision going out like a light, and he was surrounded by darkness.

But he did not lose consciousness. He was aware of everything around him. The pain in his back, the inability to breathe for a long moment, the ringing in his ears.

Slowly vision began to return. With each throb of his heart, his eyes seemed to pound, tiny points of light flickering in his vision. He quickly became aware that something was wrong. His vision was returning, he could begin to make out shapes and forms, but the darkness remained. Straining, he craned his neck to try and pinpoint the single source of light that he could find.

It was the moon.

With a slow and pained motion, Jeremy pulled himself up off his back. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and physically he was still in hardly any shape to get up, but his mind was suddenly and shockingly clear. He recognized the shady forest. Moonlight trickled in from above, barely illuminating the stately pines that surrounded him, glinting silver off the treetops, but unable to find their way to the ground below. Everything was exactly as he had remembered it from the previous night. When he had awaken in the forest.

Except that he heard no wolf howling in the distance.

Jeremy sat still for several long minutes, trying to regain his strength. His head pounded again, but it was a feeling he was becoming accustomed to. It seemed that every time he woke his body ached, as if coming from a terribly deep sleep, a sleep that all but refused to release his body. A sleep filled with dreams and nightmares ...

Had he just dreamed that he was back in his home, human again? With a sudden urgency he patted himself down, running a hand along his arm, trying to feel if there was skin or fur, but his hands had gone numb, and felt nothing. The light from above did not penetrate below, and try as he might he could not see himself well enough to tell the difference. All his senses were dulled, fuzzy, as if he were still half asleep.

Was he sleeping now? Was he awakening from another bout of sleepwalking? He couldn't be sure anymore, wasn't sure what the difference was. Moments ago he had been back to normal, a human again, but it was all wrong. It felt wrong, nightmarish. In the dream he had become Kasha, and feared what he saw. Was it a dream, or was he dreaming now?

Confused, he pulled himself up from the ground with the aid of a tree. Everything seemed eerily like the same experience as the night before. Awakening in the forest, in the middle of the night, his body in pain and unwilling to move, confused and unaware of his surroundings. The only difference was the lack of the wolf howling.

Where was Raylon?

Dizziness clouded his thoughts for a moment as he stood, relaxing his grip on the tree. He had to wait a long moment, breathing in deep, refreshing breaths of the cold night air, before he felt strong enough to let go.

He had to choose.

Slowly, deliberately, he began to trudge through the forest. He had no way of guiding himself in the night, and suspected that he would be equally lost had it been noon. The vague shape of the trees looming overhead sent a chill down his spine, as if he was being silently watched by the wooded sentinels, yet they offered no hope of giving him direction. There was no familiar landmarks, no signs, no obvious path to follow. Yet he did not falter in his steps, did not waver in his direction. Something inside of him told him he was going the right way - whatever right was.

He wanted to believe that he had taken the same path as the night before. That night, he had been driven on by fear, fear for his life, and had ran for all he was worth. Tonight, he did not fear for his life, but something more precious and more tenuous still. He feared for his sanity, and as such his footsteps were slow and cautious, moving with a singular and unsure purpose through the woods.

Jeremy had no idea how long or how far he walked. His mind refused to register the time or the distance, so bent it was on arguing with itself. He could not resolve the central question - was he dreaming now, had he been dreaming before, or had he ever truly been awake? He did not know, didn't know if he would ever find out, and was so engrossed in the thought that he hardly realized when he stepped out of the forest and into the same large clearing. When he did come to his senses, however, he stopped in his tracks.

Silvery moonlight glistened off the grass below. He hadn't noticed before but the clearing was set in the bottom of a gentle valley, the forest rising up, hills on either side. He stood atop a small knoll itself, which rolled gently down into the bottom of the open valley, where the river cut across with a gentle babbling sound.

It was the sound that caught his attention at first. It had an instant calming effect on his mind, hushing the confused chatter in his head, if even for just a moment. Yet it reminded him of the beginning of his dilemma, and somehow he felt as if it had to come to an end here as well.

He would have to choose.

Finally he had the presence of mind to realize that in this light, he could see himself as well as his surroundings. He glanced down, and was not surprised to see his body covered in soft fur, his paws upturned slightly in mild confusion. Yet it felt comfortable, and it did not repel him. Either he was coming to terms with the dream, or he was losing his mind to the delusion.

With a finality, he made his way over to the river. From this vantage point, the river had transformed into an argent ribbon, the moon reflecting off every ripple and eddy in its reflective surface, seeming to nearly glow at the bottom of the clearing. As he approached, the silver reflection began to coalesce into an undulating reflection of the full moon, a friendly face that seemed to beckon him ever closer.

Jeremy paused just shy of the riverbank, just far enough so that he could not see his own reflection in the glimmering surface of the water. He paused a long moment, but felt driven on to take a look, as if it would be important.

In the water, he saw himself. Jeremy, the same human face that he had been so used to seeing for many years before ...yet he knew that was not the face that was looking into the water. Tentatively, he held a paw out over the water, and in the reflection saw a normal, hairless hand. Slowly, he dipped his paw in the cool water, and felt it tingle lightly up his arm ...

Suddenly he realized that he could remember everything.

He could remember the day he first met Raylon. He could remember their first kiss, he could remember when he knew he was truly in love with the wolf.

He could remember his first day in kindergarten, with all the other children, the human children. He could remember getting his driver's license. He could remember graduating from high school and going on to college.

He could remember everything. From Kasha's life, from Jeremy's life, he could remember it all, one just as clearly as the other. He had trouble telling one from the other, couldn't be sure which was which. He was even having trouble deciding who he really was.

He had to choose though, and he would have to choose soon.

He looked back into the river, and saw the pale human face staring back at him. Jeremy's face. He saw Jeremy in his own reflection, like it should be. He was Jeremy. Yet he knew that aside from the reflection, his face was that of a raccoon. His hands - paws - covered with fur. A tail waving slowly behind him. He was Kasha.

He was both, and he had to choose.

He was Jeremy. He had been for years, he had been for all his life. Until the last couple of days, he had never questioned that fact. There was simply no way he could be expected to abandon a lifetime of memories as some kind of sleep induced fantasy, throw it all away at a moment's notice.

Yet Kasha had a lifetime worth of memories, memories that were now his as well. He could not justify throwing those memories away either. He could not justify putting an end to Kasha, could not justify the cost it would levy upon Raylon. To tear them apart would be a sin. He knew they loved each other deeply - he felt it himself.

He could not choose, yet he had to.

A sudden wind kicked up, ruffling his fur and scattering the reflection in the river. Surely this was all a dream, he told himself. This had to be a dream, all of it. How could he be expected to choose when the stakes were so high? He tried to shut out the sound of the howling wind, looking deeper into the water, as if seeking guidance. He found none, but realized he could wait no longer. He could not choose, but he had to.

He relaxed himself and fell forward, entrusting his fate to the river below. The cold wetness immediately engulfed him, penetrating his fur and chilling him to the bone. He let his eyes slip shut, and did not fight as the current dragged him down, pulled him to his fate, and conscious thought melted from his mind.

He chose.

---

His eyes flew open, suddenly awake. For a quick moment, he struggled for breath, then realized that he was no longer under the water. Warm blankets surrounded his body, but in his reaction upon waking he had roughly tossed them about, rattling his bed in the moment's convulsion upon regaining consciousness. Involuntarily, he gasped for air.

Heavy footsteps could be heard in the adjoining hall, and the door flew open. His eyes had to adjust to the increase of light, though he immediately knew who it was.

Raylon approached the bed, having heard the startled gasp, and leaned over looking at him. "You okay?" the big wolf asked, deep concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine, Raylon. I'm fine."

The wolf blinked at him softly, a flicker of realization in his eyes. "Kasha?"

Kasha's lower lip quivered for a second, and he almost had to bite it to calm it down. He could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes, as he nodded slightly. "It's me."

Raylon looked stunned for a long moment, as if his ears were deceiving him. "Really?"

Kasha nodded, sitting up and reaching out. "I love you, Raylon."

"Oh god Kasha ... I love you ..." Raylon nearly bawled, his eyes already streaming with tears, as he reached out to embrace his lover, holding him tight, his chest heaving with great sobs of joy. Kasha fell into the embrace, resting his head on the wolf's shoulders, letting the tears stream liberally from his eyes, wrapping his paws around Raylon's back, holding him close. Finally he was home.

Then, somewhere in the back of his mind, Jeremy smiled. He had chosen, and now he knew that he had made the right choice, and slowly he drifted off into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.