I walked through the woods, constantly trying to make a mental map of the area around me. While I may have a fairly good idea of the topography of the world on a grand scale, I was fairly clueless when it came to the finer details. I didn't bother sneaking through the woods, instead practicing moving both quickly and regally. The first reason I chose not to worry about stealth was because I was fairly confident in my ability to chase off or simply escape from any monsters that might attack me. The other reason is because my pelt is white. I'm not going to be able to hide from anything worth a damn. It'd be like trying to hide the sun, which I suppose is a fitting analogy.
Walking through the forest felt normal to me, despite my long absence from the world. Maybe it was an instinct instilled in me because of my changed form? That would also explain how I had been able to open my inventory or how I knew how to use my Celestial Brush Techniques without any training. I walked for hours before I heard what sounded like the muffled sound of someone scraping steel. The sound was inconsistent, coming in short bursts followed by a short silence and another scrape.
My ears twitched in the direction of the sound, confused about the unnatural noise. I relaxed when I realized it was the noise of a whetstone, used to sharpen weapons and other tools. While my first thought was that someone was sharpening a sword or something, I reminded myself that that might not be the case. Whetstones could also be used to sharpen other tools, including hoes and shovels.
Naturally, I went to investigate the strange and unfamiliar sound. As interesting and exciting as this forest was, what I really wanted to meet were the species that lived around here. The noise continued in its erratic bursts and I followed my ears to the source. The forest floor was covered in thick bushes that would have been almost impossible to wade through, but as I approached the foliage, I was treated to the strange sight of it actually moving out of the way to let me pass. After following the path that had been set out for me, I happened to glance back and realized that the trail had closed behind me as the plants had moved back into place.
I stared at the strange moving plants in befuddlement for several seconds before continuing to seek for the source of the noise. That wasn't an ability I remembered from the game. Not that I'm complaining. Using Power Slash to cut a path for myself isn't exactly something that seems fitting for a goddess of nature.
I stumble and nearly topple over as the weight of that last thought hits me full-force. Knowing that I was in Amatarasu's body had raised my suspicion, but seeing the plants moving out of my way was what really made me realize it. Was I really a Goddess now? If so, what did that mean for me? I had long since accepted that I would never return home, and I had already said goodbye to my family and Amanda. What else would I be saying goodbye to? My humanity? My personality? My identity?
A lack of an answer presented itself, and I could only continue to move forward. I decided to think about it another time and instead focus on finding out what was causing the noise. I had almost reached it, passing through the space the plants opened up for me, when the plant in front of me didn't move. This was such an incongruous event compared to the rest of the bushes that I actually stopped short to stare at the stock still plant. And what does it say about my life, I wonder, that I'm surprised when a bush doesn't hasten to get out of my way?
Before I can figure out how I feel about the stationary plant, I happen to glance beyond it and see a bipedal creature sitting in front of an entrance to a cave. Moving on instinct alone, I silently squat down behind the bush so I can observe the creature without being spotted. While I would love to just rush out there and lick the creature in greeting, I have no idea how it might react to that.
The creature was covered in a thick coat of grey fur, which looked like it had been cropped away near its paw-hands. It held a hoe and a whetstone in its paw-hands, which was what was making the scraping sound as it sharpened the farming implement. Around its neck it wore a thick black collar, which was interspaced with spikes going all around it. I couldn't see a practical use for the collar, so I assumed it was for fashion. It also wore a bright red jacket, finishing off the entire look. No pants though, leaving me with the distinct feeling I was looking at a half-dressed cartoon animal.
As for the creature itself, it looked like a dog. A large, ungroomed, bipedal dog, sure, but still a dog. In fact, it was a dog. I could remember watching as its ancestors split away from the ordinary race of canines and started to evolve in their own direction. I remember thinking that the process of the evolution had seemed really fast, as if there had been something driving the species to evolve in a certain direction. Either way, this confirmed it for me: I was definitely on the surface of that planet I had watched for so long.
As for the dog in front of me, I soaked in its appearance as I continued to watch it, observing and memorizing its features. Its ears were long and droopy, and nearly covered its eyes. Its short little stubby dog tail poked out from its bare behind, and as I watched I could see the tail twitch. Heavy jowls hung from the sides of the dog's mouth. Its front paws were large and heavily developed, far more so then its hind paws.
As I continued to consider the dog, I almost didn't notice as its mouth opened up, revealing a row of sharp pointy teeth. "This one knows you're there," it suddenly said with a masculine voice, swinging its hoe around to point directly where I was hiding. Rather, where I was failing to hide. "Stop skulking around and come where this one can see you."
I blinked in surprise as I heard the words. No, that's not quite a proper explanation. I didn't 'hear' any words at all. When the dog spoke, I heard growls and whines coming from its mouth, certainly not something that I could recognize as a language. At the same time, I also heard a second voice inside my head, which spoke what I could only assume was a translation of what the dog was saying.
I realized that I had been standing there for a few seconds and the bipedal dog was still pointing its hoe directly at me. Not seeing any way out of the situation, other than to turn and flee into the woods, I stepped forward and walked into his line of sight, the bush that had stopped me before moving out of my way without hesitation.
The dog raised an eye as I strode into his line of sight. He stared at me for a moment before he switched his attention to the bushes behind me, looking as if it couldn't quite believe what he had seen. After a moment, he shrugged it off and calmly went back to sharpening his hoe. "Wolf," he greeted me with a disinterested grunt in that strange language of barks and whines. "Hello, white wolf."
I tilted my head at him before turning to look at my own body. I'm not saying I wasn't a white wolf, but that's not the first thing that I would say if I were to suddenly see me in the woods. Thick red lines patterned my entire body, especially my face and shoulders, which the dog couldn't fail to see from where he was. My fur stuck up in unusual swirls at my ankles and shoulders, and that wasn't even getting into the large burning mirror that I wore on my back. My confusion lasted until I remembered that Amaterasu simply looked like an ordinary white wolf to the vast majority of people. Only people who strongly believed in the gods were able to see Amaterasu's true form.
Well, if I had needed any further proof that I was now Amaterasu, that I was now a God, it had just knocked on the door and decided to say hello. I felt my emotions start to swell and surge inside me but I hastily bottled the feelings away, determined to save the oncoming panic attack for a time when I was alone.
The bipedal dog didn't respond as I took a seat next to him, watching as he continue to sharpen his hoe. After several minutes more, he appeared to be satisfied with his work and placed the whetstone down on the ground. Hefting the hoe over one shoulder, he reached over and absentmindedly scratched at my ears with his unoccupied paw-hand for a couple seconds before he turned and silently disappeared into the dark cave.
Not having anything better to do, I stood up and decided to follow after the bipedal dog. Walking into the entrance way, my eyes took a moment to become used to the change of light as I stepped into the heavy shadows. Once I was able to see again, I saw that the bipedal dog had stopped at the back of the cave and was staring at me with an inscrutable expression on his face. Once he saw that my eyes had adjusted to the change in light, he turned without a word and slipped into an entrance to a small tunnel at the back of the cave. I could see entrances to several tunnels at the back of the cave, so if the dog hadn't shown me which way to go it would have been nearly impossible for me to find him again.
After experimentally sniffing at the entrance to the small tunnel, I climbed in and followed after the much larger canine. I was smaller than he was, so I was able to travel the tunnel without too much difficulty. As I felt the weight of the millions of tons of rocks above my head, I took a moment to thank any gods that might be listening that I was not claustrophobic.
After a few minutes of blindly crawling through the twisting tunnel, it suddenly widened above my head before spitting me out into a much wider area. I still couldn't see a blasted thing, of course, and an unwilling whine escaped my throat as I tried to peer through the impenetrable darkness. I was just about to bark for my guide when I heard the distinct sound of stone striking stone, followed by a tiny flash of light. The light flared brightly for an instant before puttering out, leaving me in absolute darkness once more.
The sound repeated itself once more, only this time the light flared even brighter and didn't immediately vanish. By the sudden illumination, I could see the bipedal dog crouched in front of me, holding a stone in each of his paw-hands. A burning torch was on the ground in front of him, and it was that flame that was the source of light. Dropping the two stones on the, he picked up the burning brand and stood up before walking over to one side of the room. There, he lifted the torch and touched it to another torch that had been carefully set on the side of the wall. The hanging torch caught instantly and the dog started to walk the perimeter of the entire cave, stopping three more times to light up more torches installed on the walls.
After the last torch had been lit, illuminating the entire room, I looked around at exactly what the light had revealed to me. An entire underground garden was spread out in front of me, filled with all sorts of plants I couldn't even hope to identify. The ground where the plants grew looked like it had been carefully tilled and was clearly the product of many hours of hard work. A small trickle of water poured out of one of the walls and swirled a small creek around the tiny garden before disappearing into a drain on the other side of the room.
I felt a presence next to me and looked up to see the bipedal dog looking down at me. "This Rocky's private garden," he said to me, his voice remaining at a carefully level monotone, as if he somehow expected to be kicked at any moment. "So... What you think?"
I sniffed once and the smell of the dog's tension filled the air, so strong that I nearly choked on it. For some reason, the dog -- who I'm assuming is named Rocky -- seems to be worried about what my thoughts may be. Rather than making him wait on my impression, I look up at him with an impressed bark. The tight lines on his face that I hadn't even noticed before suddenly soften at my bark and I get the feeling I did the right thing.
"Rocky is glad you think so," the dog says, confirming that my assumption about his name was correct. "Rocky's pack was not nearly so understanding." His hand traces a spot on his stomach and I whine when I notice a large ugly scar visible underneath the fur. The dog seems to be grateful for my concern, because he smiles and places a paw-hand on my head. "It was a long time ago. Rocky is living just fine on his own."
My tail sadly wags once before going still. I want to know more, but if he doesn't want to talk about it, I won't pry. Instead, I meaningfully look at the tiny garden before looking back at him with a curious huff. He correctly interprets my question and a small reminiscent smile appears on his face. "Rocky learned about growing plants while watching nearby pony settlement. Very good plants. Useful. Some good for stomach, others good for treating wounds." He laughs in a self-recriminating manner before giving a rueful shrug. "Others just smell bad. Good for keeping ticks out of fur."
I reach up with a paw and scratch at an ear with a small whine. I haven't had any trouble with ticks, mosquitoes, flies, or any other type of insect so far, but I can certainly understand where he's coming from. I don't know why I haven't been bothered by any bugs so far. Maybe they sense the power of the Sun in me and are unable to get too close?
The dog sits down next to me and scratches at my ears again. Despite his efforts to put up a brave front, I can sense the loneliness and the longing for company in him. Unable to say anything, I lean over and press my head against his chest, silently cursing my own powerlessness. Here I am, with the powers of a literal God, and I can't do anything to help the very first individual to show me kindness?
It just isn't fair.
We sat in silence for hours, me leaning against his warm chest and his paw-hand resting on my furry head, until sleep washed over me and pulled me down into a sweet slumber.