Old coot

>Falling. Falling fast. Very fast.

>That's not what getting hit by lightning is supposed to feel like, at least... you think.

>Never been hit by it before. Well, until now.

>You hit the ground. Hard. By all rights, you would think you should have died.

>But no. You just went unconscious.

>Time has passed. Not sure how long. But it HAS passed.

>Before, you were lying fast first on the ground. Now? Now you're on your back, being shaken by someone... or something...

>Whatever it is that's shaking you, is also yelling. Loud. So very loud.

>"Sweit Celestia, it's anither human! But... 'at means... aww buck."

>You pass out again, and wake up to the sounds of a fight.

>"Gettae France frae heem ye feckin' beasts! jobby, hoo far is mah shack?!"

>You're on your side now, and you hear the sounds of wolves dying off.

>You stir a little, and roll on to your back and open your eyes.

>What greats them is a giant of a man, clad in medieval armor, and wielding a broad sword.

>He dispatches with the last wolf, and picks one up, after putting his sword in its sheathe on this back.

>"This will make fur a braw stew tonecht."

>He turns to you, and sees that you're awake.

>"Ah! laddy, ur ye alrecht? ye swatch loch yoo've bin struck by lightnin', an' feel frae a cliff!"

"Wh-what? I.. understood none of that." you weakly say.

>He scratches his white beard, and soon speaks again, but with less of an accent, "Ye alright? Ye look like ya fell from a cliff afta getting struck by lightnin'"

"That's cause I did... I think... my head hurts too much..."

>That's all you manage to say before passing out again.

>You wake up, once more, this time to the smell of stew.

>Your stomach growls, and you hear a hearty laugh.

>"aur ye waukin', laddy? haur, hae some stew."

>He passes you a wooden bowl filled with a thick stew.

>With out asking what's in it, you quickly eat it down with the spoon.

>You hear him laugh again, "There's plenty mair stew, hae as much as ye want!"

>He drinks from a gourd once he was done speaking, and wipes his mouth his arm.

>You finsh the stew, and jut the bowl forward, asking for more.

>He oblidges, takes your bowl, and fills it again.

>He puts it infront of you, and you eat it down almost as fast as the frist time.

>"Ah tak' it ye loch timmer wolf stew."

>You finish up the bowl, and set it down.

"Timmer wolf? Never heard of it..."

>"Nae, nae timmer, TIMBER wolf"

"Timber wolf? Still never heard of it."

>"That's coz they're natife tae Equestria. th' lain yoo're noo in."

"Err... Equestria? Never heard of that either..."

>"Aye. it's nae oan earth."

>You blink.

>Did you hear that right?"

"...You just said this isn't earth..."

>"As far as Ah gaither, it's nae. Ah pure techt, whaur oan earth dae ye see talkin' horses!"

"I only under stood talking horses... And even then, that's pushing it."

>He lets out a sigh.

>"Sorry, it's hard tae control mah accent. Bein' aloyn fur 60 years diz 'at tae a man."

"You've been alone for... sixty years? Why?"

>"i cannae lae th' forest. an' noo 'at yoo're haur, ye willnae either. weel, unless someain takes them elements ay harmony 'at ur in 'at castle ower thaur."

"We have to work on your accent..."

>"doesnae matter, Ah dornt hae lang left anyway. noo 'at yoo're haur, Ah figure Ah hae wee less than thee years tae bide."

"Wait, why's that?"

>"First aff, Ah jist want tae confirm sometihin'. teel me yer nam, lad."

"...Anonymous... Why?"

>"Jist as Ah thooght. Mah nam be Anonymoos tay. Sae was th' lest bloke."

"Wh...what?"

>"Naw, ontae th' story. Yer bein' summoned haur means only a one hin', 'at aam in th' wey o die, an' 'at Ah hae tae train ye oan yer new job. thocht ye hardly swatch fit fur it, bein' sae wee."

"...What?"

>He points to himself. "me. gonnae die." He points at you," ye. tak'. mah. job."

"...What's your job and WHY are you going to die?"

>"Fuck if Ah ken wa aam gonnae die, Ah jist am. as fur mah job, Ah hae tae shaw ye."

"Alright... Okay, i can't call you by my name. It gets weird."

>"I ken whit ye mean, it was th' sam fur me. jist caa me Nav."

"Why Nav?"

>"Ah saw it in a bent book ance, an' aam sort ay bent myself!"

"Bent... wait, that's gay...you're gay?"

>"Och aye! whit did ye hink? eh'd gang humpin' some ay them tress thaur, laddie? weel yoo'd be reit! mah fowk aye hud a wee bit ay bent in them."

"...I'm gonna stop you there Nav."

>"What ever floats yer boat, bonnie loon." he said in an enticing voice.

"I.. I need an adult."

>"Ah am an adult. Nae quit yer greetin' an' follaw me."