He grabbed his legs with his hands and felt them from top to bottom, first the right one and then the left. He then wriggled his feet again before feeling his face, noticing a soft breeze dancing across it from the movement of the adjacent flow.
“Well that doesn’t feel like a tortoise to me,” he uttered as he pulled himself to his feet and moved cautiously away from the man across the awkwardly uneven rock underfoot.
“Hey, I can stand up and move normally. Maybe I’m saved, and back to my old self.”
He continued to back off from the man until he had moved a couple of feet towards the curved wall of what appeared to be a tunnel. The rock was the most evocative exotic-looking stone he had ever seen, subtly undulating with smooth wave-like forms with no jagged edges.
He noticed the man was a fair bit smaller than him and a little frail, not someone he would instinctually feel afraid of. The man stared at him speechless, looking him up and down from head to toe and back again. He wore big black shoes with tight white stockings, light brown trousers that came down to the knee, rolling up into a little roll of gathered material at the bottom. On top there was an extravagant white frilly-collared shirt covered by a slightly tight waist-jacket, black with gold trim, undone at the front. On his head was a wacky, brown suede beret with a medium-sized firm rim all the way round, crowned with a flamboyant-looking feather.
“You’re looking at me like that; you might want to reflect on what you’re wearing first - what is that?” queried Ed.
The man grinned, expanding to a muted chuckle.
“I meant not to gape. I apologise.”
“That’s fine.”
“My raiment may surprise you. I daresay I should be better garbed. It’s Tudor costume from Middle England I wear. You, on the other hand, are altogether more modern, my friend. I’m Thomas. What is your good name, sir?” said the diminutive character as he moved closer to Ed with an outstretched hand.
Ed looked him over a little more closely. His face had the complexion of a scrunched paper ball, determined to somehow unravel itself into a more pleasing texture. Years of anxious grimacing had taken its toll, leaving crevices and creases that may well have been better explained by the movement of glaciers. Defiantly, the freckled leathery skin did what it could to feign a complexion that wasn’t more associated with the surface of Mars, his big, ambiguously coloured eyes, peering out like seals from holes in ice.
Ed approached closer, ready for the customary handshake.
“Erm, I’m Ed. Ed Trew,” said Ed, unsurprisingly cautious as he accepted the gesture.
“You need not worry. I know you must be in a state of stupefaction. Just freshly deceased,” replied the Tudor gentleman, sending shockwaves through the tired flesh on his face.
“How do you know I just died? Are you a mind reader or something? What’s going on?”
Thomas sighed knowingly as their hands parted and each wondered what would come next.
“Why did you have to grab me round the neck with the big crook?” enquired Ed.
“Well I was pulling you from the Transience tunnel. You could not have tarried there, by my troth.”
“The Transience tunnel? What the hell’s that?” replied Ed, beginning to notice the quaint and outdated dialect.
“Shall we go inside and find somewhere to sit down? I can tell what I can, or at least what I know.” Thomas gestured down into the dim tunnel, away from the hole that he had been pulled through with the long crook.
“Okay. Let’s do that. You have to know though; it’s been quite a couple of days already, so please excuse me if I’m a little short with you,” replied Ed, wondering if a similar bombshell of revelation similar to Sam’s was about to whack him like a great big rubber fist.
“Let us away then without further ado. I know what people have been through when they get here. I have experienced the same myself after all.”
“What, were you a tortoise as well?” enquired Ed, as the couple moved off deeper into the tunnel.
“Not exactly. I will tell you everything, worry not.”
“Okay then,” replied Ed, marvelling at every step he made as a human, reflecting on the trials and tribulations of being a perpetually exhausted and less-than-agile reptile. During the short distance they’d walked, the floor texture had become much smoother and easier to navigate, in contrast to the awkward uneven surface near the entrance. Ed looked down and noticed the strange sand, black in colour and slightly firm, just as he imagined it would have been on a volcanic island. He stopped briefly and looked behind to see the footprints melting away, the holes filling in and gradually leaving a smooth surface. He bent down and ran his outstretched fingers through the perfect surface, causing four equidistant indentations.