Steeling himself, he looked around the hut. He hadn’t seen any water, but there should be a water jug. Otherwise, he didn’t know how this person had brought water back.
He didn’t need to search long. Soon he found a large stone container. Large would be an understatement. It was half his height, hidden away in a corner he hadn’t looked at before.
He wrinkled his nose and stared at it. How was he sure this was the water container? It was still wet inside. There was no water, only dirt at the bottom and a smaller jug inside.
Enzo wondered if, when the original owner went to get water, he pushed the jug into the dirt and took out whatever came with it. Seeing the dirt at the bottom, he knew he would need to wash it.
"Well," he sighed. "Might as well get to work."
He reached in and took out the stone jug. He thought he would need to exert some effort since the jug was a bit large and made of stone. But he was surprised at how easily he pulled it out.
One conclusion he could draw was that, though his current body was skinny, it was strong.
He turned to the open door, released a breath, and stepped outside.
Stepping into the morning sun, he saw the hustle and bustle of the tribe. When he came out earlier, there were no people to see. Even now, he didn’t see many people. But he noted that he was far from the centre.
He saw the large building he had seen when he woke up earlier. What appeared to be compacted dried leaves were on the top, creating a slanted roof. The section of walls he could see was made from compacted mud and stone.
It resembled concrete, but not entirely. It, unlike Enzo’s new abode, had windows. As Enzo walked, he once again cursed the windowless hut.
He didn’t look for long. He knew he wasn’t the original person. And what ticked him off was that he didn’t have any of their memories. He had no clue if this person had family, friends, or even a dog.
He could only use inferences to say he might not. One reason was that no one came to see him all morning. The other was because of his skinny appearance.
Not to mention, as he walked past people with his head down, trying to make himself look as inconspicuous as possible, no one actually said hello to him.
His grip on the jug loosened. His white fingertips faintly returned to their natural colour. But he still kept his head down.
He took note of the huts around him. They were made from mud like his. Some smaller, some larger. They didn’t have designated housing sections, but were built wherever the owner felt was a good spot.
Aside from the housing, he noticed the people. Like him, there were some with tiger ears on the top of their heads. These people were lean, not as skinny as he was. But they had lean, tight, swimmer bodies.
There were also some men who were almost a head taller than those with the swimmer body. Enzo noticed that these men not only had the tiger ears, but also tails. He could see some had tails swishing like happy cats; others had their tails resting.
It was just another appendage to them. And don’t get him started on the appendages he saw covered from the front.
When Enzo first saw it, his fingers twitched, and his eyes sparkled. He resisted the urge to walk up to one of them and stroke their tail. He glanced at the multiple tails, not allowing his eyes to stay on any one person for too long.
That didn’t mean others didn’t see.
"...he’s looking..."
"...no one wants...tails."
Fragments of conversations followed him. He pieced them together well enough, because these people weren’t whispering. He thought he was being discreet, but others were just as keen and knew he was looking.
It made him blush slightly. It wasn’t his fault he had never seen it before. He mumbled about the original not giving him any memories, so he had no clue what etiquette this place had.
Was staring okay or not? He decided not to look anymore. If he kept looking, someone might confront him.
Since he wasn’t looking at tails, he started looking at clothes, or the lack thereof. Almost everyone in the tribe walked around wearing loincloths. Some had furs around their shoulders, wrapped like accessories.
He was possibly the most clothed person, and that was because he insisted on wrapping one of the furs he found completely around his lower body.
He was all for nudity, but not public nudity. Yet, as he watched them interact, no one scurried around hiding their shame. It was simply a normal part of life.
Enzo felt deeply that he was the odd one out.
He travelled aimlessly for a while. What he needed was water, but he had no clue where to find it. Luckily, during his tail observations, he noticed people coming from a certain part of the village.
The jugs they had were wet. Walking in the direction they came from, he eventually found water.
It was a stream at the back of the tribe. It flowed between the valley the huts were built on and the hill protecting the rear of the tribe. There was a small barrier of shrubs that appeared artificial.
One could step through the shrubs and reach the stream.
As Enzo approached, he saw others filling their jugs. From this section of the stream, he could see more of the tribe. He didn’t take the initiative to say hello to anyone. The water was clear and flowed freely. Enzo could even see small fish moving around.
Well, that gets rid of the idea of drinking the water right away, Enzo grumbled to himself as he rubbed his stomach. He hadn’t eaten yet. He was hoping to drink some water, but seeing the tiny fish, he decided against it.
As he watched the small fish, he saw his own reflection. It was wavy because of the moving water, but it was better than nothing.
The face was delicate, with wide eyes that could be both innocent and mischievous. His lips were plump and kissable, despite the chapped lips.
This face was the kind Enzo considered baby-faced. Objectively, it was beautiful, but to Enzo, there was not enough meat. But still, he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t ugly.
But also, he needed to take a bath. He hadn’t realized just how dirty his body was until he saw it in the water. Once again, he complained about the original.
The hut was empty; the body was skinny as a rail, and the body was dusty and dirty. What other surprises might he find?
Enzo sighed, kept his head down, and walked back to the hut, ignoring everyone. Since he knew where to find water, things went much faster. It took him three trips to get the large vat clean.
The mud he saw wasn’t even half of it. He sincerely thought the original was making mud huts with the vat. The entire inside was full of mud.
He lugged water back and forth, grunting before long. He hadn’t eaten all day, and he was afraid to drink the water, so he felt dizzy after a few times. The ground was wet, not that it made a difference. It was dirt. All he did was push the few furs away and let the water fall.
On his fifth trip to the stream, Enzo decided to say fuck it. His stomach was about to touch his ribs. His hands were shaking, and his vision was spotty. He would either drink the water or collapse.
Maybe drinking it would send him back to his own body.
So without a care in the world, he fell to his knees, put the jug aside, and scooped up the water to drink.
When the first sip went down his throat, he could feel his throat, which was on fire, begin to cool down. He gasped at the coolness. Picked up another handful and started drinking again.
"Wait," he heard behind him. "Don’t drink that."
A clear voice came from behind him. He turned to see another person like him, standing not far away with a jug in their own hand.