Tesla logs in and realizes he's in snow land. The brisk, chill wind carrying with it frozen rain like fireflies... and a howling winter storm on the horizon.

He looks around, climbing a few hills and admiring the coastal village distant from here. It looks like a charming postcard one sends home to let everyone know they made it and are safe. But Tesla is not safe.

"Skimi!" he shouts to the region below, his hands about his face. Both to direct the sound of his voice, and keep snow from his eyes. Which are merely painted prims. Tesla is disappointed to have missed his friend. Out of habit and silliness he shouts again. "Skimi.... hello!"

The brief silence which follows is only broken by the skinwalker's reply. "Skimi.... hellooooooooo....." it says back to him in Tesla's own voice. Putting a slightly unsettled feel in his core. One that is not just the sub zero temperature. Standing on the edge of a great, snowy bluff overlooking the glittery sea below. It is a false echo. Crackling and muffled like an exotic bird imitating him, and dragging out the last syllable to let him know. It is not an echo. It is intelligent. And it is learning.

"Hellooo!" it says again.

Tesla is NOT in the mood for this. He turns suddenly at the crashing thud of heavily packed snow falling into a nearby valley. More silence grips his wooden heart. Why does he feel like a cuckoo bird waiting to jump out of his avatar?

He watches as the tumultuous, white dust from the avalanche flings far up into the atmosphere and settles peacefully close to him like shredded plastic in a snow globe. Tesla briefly wonders what is in snow globes, then realizes a shadowy mass is watching him from within the falling debris. Using it as camouflage. Or knowing it accentuates it's terrible visage.

Tesla's own voice greets him. "Hello," the beast says to him. It has either forgotten the sound of Tesla's voice, or it is deliberately making Tesla's voice sound more ominous. Like the scratched and warped recording of someone nice who died horribly long ago. And they never found all the pieces. "Hello," it says again. "Skimi?"

Tesla can only raise a hand forming a sign his grandma once taught him. He half points half displays his hand at the thing.

It roars in reply. A terrifying rumble of snarled bear lizard sound. Then slows to something that can only be described as an idling car ready to backfire.

The enormous beast then bends down almost like a human bow, then touches the ground with it's ... it's talons? Which it makes fists of. And suddenly are elongated sticks. Tesla watches in amazement as it's ears become horns. The sick stirring of bones within it's taut  skin even from this distance make quite a noise. Like listening to grandma prepare a chicken for a weekend meal.

It's eyes stay red, however. Beaming like headlights in the gathering dimness. Somehow it taking on the cartoonish display of something docile makes Tesla even more afraid, but he dares not turn his  back on it, and instead fixes his gaze. His head swimming with reminders like "be not amazed as even the enemy can take the appearance of an angel of light" and "do not gaze upon the enemy too long as he may change form to a soothing image to deceive you."

The baleful gaze of the powerful monster from behind matted and rotting fur sends yet another chill down Tesla's spine. How can he possibly get colder. Next time he visits Skimi he is bringing a Spring jacket.

Finally the wicked animal hisses at Tesla and turns to walk away into the darkened horizon. The winter storm has arrived, and Tesla does not want to log in buried in ice like a stone age wonder. Still he counts in his  head to 300. Then 300 again. And impatiently counts to 300 once more, eyes staring straight ahead. Then turns to look about.

Cautiously he follows the footprints of the.. the thing.  To the edge of the cliff. Where the footprints disappear. No sliding  marks down the side. No broken branches or sign of rubble displacement. No piles in the shallow water below. Though the air seems charged with  static.

"What the heck kind of simulator are you building, Skimi?" Tesla asks rhetorically to himself. Then logs off.

Slightly behind the location he was standing in when Tesla logged out, the red eyes open again. "What the heck kind of simulator are you building, Skimi?" it asks no one in particular. 

"Skimi. What the heck?" it asks. It seems to be practicing.

This originally appeared February 6, 2023 while site was with another host.