Bai Qingqing

That particular elder had continued storming out and the others watched him until he rudely slammed the door behind him before turning to look at me. One who had spoken before, was a large man who appeared no older than fifty, with a short fade-cut hairstyle of pale brown speckled with white, and an impressive rack of elk or deer antlers sprouting from his temples. I counted 30 points, at the very least. He laughed as he stood from his chair…clapping his massive hands slowly.

"Well. It's been a long time since someone stood up to that old goat," he laughed, his voice deep and rich. It reminded me of the taste of a dark-roast coffee.

"I did warn you about her, did I not?" Gharret said, nuzzling my hand openly as the other Elders began laughing and cheering.

My face went red as he continued assaulting my poor hand, so I reached with the other one and swatted the top of his head again. It startled him enough to let go so I could snatch my hand away, which only caused the group assembled to burst into more laughter.

"As you can see, our sweet child is vastly different from the Goddess, Bai Qingqing…" Mother Gharret said, wiping tears from her eyes as she continued to laugh.

Wait…

Hold on…

That name was ringing so many bells. There had been a lightnovel involving a girl named Bai Qingqing, who accidentally transmigrated to a Neolithic world populated purely by…beastmen. I gasped loudly and covered my mouth at the sudden realization that the novel I'd read hadn't just been a story on some website…

"Oh…oh shit…," I mumbled and suddenly felt rather dizzy. "This isn't…real…"

Gharret got to his feet and reached for me. I felt his arm against my back while his other hand reached for my shoulder to steady me on my feet.

"My dear…what's wrong?" his mother asked, getting to her feet. I covered my face.

"I thought I'd died…did I transmigrate, instead? Is this…all real??? Bai Qingqing…she's just a story…a character…she's not REAL." There came a collective gasp from the elders assembled, as well as the sound of several chairs being shoved backward at once. That must have been a very blasphemous thing to say…

Gharret chuckled near me and gently pulled one of my hands away before wiping at the tears that had evidently sprung from my eyes. He took that hand and kissed my palm, watching me with his sharp eyes.

"Does this feel real…?" he asked me softly.

I shook my head.

He turned his mouth and I watched in silent horror as he gripped the side of my palm with his teeth, biting down. His fang pricked my skin and drew a bead of blood…but it hurt. There was pain. If this had been a dream…

"Ow…," I said softly and he relented.

"Are you still dreaming?" Gharret then licked my palm and I could feel his rough tongue rasping over the small injury before he let it go.

I dropped my other hand and stared at my palm. It still stung, but…

"I…I'm not dreaming…this is real…but…" He tilted his head slightly and as I steadied myself on my own feet, I dropped my other hand from my face, wiping at it roughly. I looked at his mother sternly and she seemed to hesitate, poised above her chair between sitting and standing.

"This place…is more advanced than what I read about in the novels. How long has it been since…?" I couldn't really bring myself to say her name at this point. It was all too wild. I'd have to give myself time for my head to really accept it.

"We assume that it has been one thousand years…but the stories are told orally…we have no solid way of knowing just how long it's been…potentially several thousand years," she responded balefully.

So not only had they advanced minimally, they had yet to develop widespread literacy. This was going to be a problem. With no physical recording of histories, many of these stories would be lost to time…except hers, it seemed.

"I see…," I mumbled, then nodded. She continued.

"After she came, the lineages she left behind were so fertile, our birthrates skyrocketed. More females were born from her children and grandchildren than had ever been thought possible. It is said that these female children could also reproduce multiple times a year as well…but her bloodline has been so diluted that it is rare to find a female who comes into estrus more than once a year. As a result, birth rates have dropped and females are becoming more and more scarce…" She cast a worried, doubtful look toward the other elders, who began sitting down one by one once more.

These people had bigger problems than birthrates. Like lack of television, media, or proper governing structures. And woolen panties. Right on cue, I felt an itch coming on that wouldn't be prudent to scratch in public, much less in a dress.

Well! I won't take a back seat like she did. I'll be proactive in advancing this world another step further. Middle Ages, here we come!