The Gold of the Firepines

Mailman's Log, Stardate 1968.127

There you were, surrounded in nothing but... luxury.
Not only were you back from the fiasco in the forest, but as soon as you arrived back, the people of the town realized how cherished you were as their mailman and how the flow of all that was left of the sanity couldn't work without you as the postal worker. So naturally they made you their leader - sure, the mayor was still the mayor, but you ruled over him too - it was the only system of government you could all agree on. From here on, it was free massages, unlimited service, and whatever you so pleased at your fingertips...

"Finally...the good life..." You reached a hand out and over from your massage chair throne to the waiter offering you whatever that fancy looking canape treat was.

Taking a bite of it, you relished the-
Forestry rich soil nutrients and dry leafy aftertaste-

Jolting with disgust, you woke from your pleasant, all-too-good-to-be-true dream and woke with the harsh realization you were on the forest ground, laying on a pile of leaves, pine needles, and dirt. As you spit leaves out your mouth, you missed the mornings you woke with an alarm clock going off because at least that was a sign of electricity and meant you'd at least be startled awake on a comfier mattress.

You were on your stomach and remembering the tumble you took down, you took care to get up slowly in case you felt a sudden sharp pain of a sprain, fracture, or the likes. Your head was pounding and eyes were trying to adjust to the early morning daylight. The light wasn't too harsh, but you could still see what was in front of you...it was a six-am-ish sort of glow.

You managed to get on your knees without feeling pain, close your eyes, and rubbed over your eyes and forehead.Why did you have to wake up? Why like this..?

It could be worse, you supposed. You went at least nine hours just laying there and some abnormally large giant like that rattlesnake didn't devour you- heck, you got nine hours of sleep. Of course, it took several new cuts and bruises and head knocks, but sleep is sleep, right? You were trying to be optimistic.

Speaking on optimism, you hadn't addressed the most unusually pleasant thing about this in your mind yet: you weren't that sore. You sat up on your knees, and besides your head pounding a bit at first, you weren't feeling that much pain- No... you weren't feeling any pain.

You looked down at yourself. You could see where a couple of cuts you gained were, but they looked like they had been healing rapidly. The bruise on your side wasn't there, and you didn't feel the bruise on your bum either. You felt so well, you stood up.

"Oookay..." You muttered to yourself, now being on your feet and still not hurting. Without too much hesitation you did a couple of stretches: hands over head, triceps stretches...shoulders, calves, quads...head and neck-

Nothing. Nada. No pain. It actually felt nice, like you had just warmed up for a new day of survival.

"Mailman's Log, Stardate 1968...127..." You took a moment to think about the date you were using. "Just woke up after what I thought may be imminent death and I feel fine."
Guess you should be off on the next part of your unplanned adventure then..? No point in just standing around.

You were trying to validate reasons for why you felt alright because it just made no sense to you...unless suddenly cartoon-logic was a thing. Or you were dead...but this didn't quite seem like an afterlife of any sorts.

You were about to step out of the leaf and dirt pile you found yourself in, but then something shiny caught your eye-
Not "shiny" as in 'ooo that's nice' but "shiny" as in a sudden blinding light in your eye that makes you turn your head to the reflective source; a bizarre, metallic sort of shiny. Especially if the shiny was coming from a pile of dried leaves.