"Stop following me!" Ben demanded for what had to be the twelth time. "What are you, deaf? How'd you get out of that house anyway?"

The same strange house that he'd found himself in that morning. He'd woken up alone, with the exception of that dog, with shorts and a t-shirt that were meant for someone much bigger than he was. His clothing was the least of his worries, though. The fact that the forest had vanished along with them seemed like a much more important thing to focus his worries on.

Well, that, and maybe keeping his shorts up.

"My grandmother is going to kill me," he told the dog. If he insisted on following, he was going to be forced to listen to his woes. "Running away was bad enough. But getting lost, losing my gear and my clothes?"

It was probably for the best that he had no idea where he was. It meant she didn't, either.

Hefting up his shorts, Ben kept walking on the banks of the same stream that had been outside the house. He wasn't sure where it was leading him, but he did know that going back wasn't an option.