I did not.

13th of June, 17XX

Or so I've been told.

I awoke, looking up at a simple and crude, yet serviceable thatch roof with a small chimney hole at in it, engulfed in layers upon layers of furs. Struggling, I sat up and found myself inside a plain hut, with a small black pot suspended above a low fire. One wall was lined with shelves, and upon them were all sorts of herbs, roots, berries, and powders. And on the other were some animal pelts, pots and pans, baskets, a quern-stone, and several large hempen bags. And on the wall opposite, was simply a door, which was beginning to open, blinding me with daylight.

When my vision cleared, a tattered cloak had joined the pelts on the wall, and there was a figure with long dark hair throwing some cut mushrooms into the pot. "Finally awake, are we?" they said, with a surprisingly young and feminine sounding voice. "Don't answer. You've been asleep for a day and a half." Giving the pot another couple of stirs, they produced a small clay bowl from by the fire and ladled out whatever it was they were making, before making their way over to me.

It was then when I realized that I was without a shirt, and I pulled up the fur to cover myself. They merely scoffed. "Bit late for that. Here, drink this. Slowly. It'll help." I looked upon the yellowy-green concoction, that smelled of dirt and strange oils, to them, with doubt and suspicion on my face, not taking it. Behind their hair, I could see an eyebrow being raised, and a small smile slowly grow. "Smart," they said. With one hand, they pushed their hair away from their fringe, revealing a cute, if dirty, woman's face, with a sharp nose and chin, and almond shaped different colored eyes, one blue, and the other, green. Tipping her head back, she took a sip of her potion, winced powerfully at it, and grunted loudly, before forcing it into my hand. "There. Bitter. But not poisoned. Drink."

'Bitter' was an understatement. 'Absolutely vile' was a kindness. Under her unflinching watch, I managed to consume all of it, despite the urge to retch. However, she was correct. Within minutes, I could feel my strength returning. "Thank you," I croaked, returning her bowl to her. "Where am I? And how did I get here?"

"My home, and you found me," she replied, biting off and spitting away the cork stopper on a bottle. Pouring out some water for us, she continued, sounding quite vexed. "Now who are you, and what business do you have, wandering in the woods in the middle of the night, to come banging on my door, and then having the audacity to fall **** the moment I open it?"

Succinctly, I informed her of how I was way-layed by a Native, and when I had tried to retrace my steps, I found myself completely turned around, night was beginning to fall, and there was a dull, burning sensation in my leg. "My vision was... cloudy, and my head was swimming. Through the haze, I can vaguely recall seeing... a light, in the darkness," I said, wracking my mind for details, "I thought I had finally reached home, but then... nothing else."

The woman sat across the hut, with her legs crossed in the most unladylike way, snorted out a laugh. "Well, you could not be any luckier that you did find my home. That burning you were feeling? It was from a poisonous plant that grows near these parts. And I know how to prepare the antidote."

"Lucky I am indeed. I am in your debt, Miss..."

"Allison," she said. There was a slight twist in her tone, as if she either did not know or did not wish to say her surname. "Just... Allison."

"Well... thank you, again, Ms. Allison," I replied, somberly. Glancing under the furs however, I felt a blush grow upon my cheeks. "Now, if I may ask, where are my trousers?"

A little wry smile grew upon her lips. "I can produce them for you Mr. McKay, but... that is if you are willing to spare me some of your time...and your body."