Laurent's distressed mind tried to resist as ropes attached to his sling hoisted him from the hold of the ship. He remembered what happened to the donkeys deemed too sick.
A bright tropical sun blinded his eyes as he arrived on the deck. A warm breeze ruffled his short mane and long ears.
"Please," he tried to make some sound, even the hated braying. "A man...I'm..."
The contraption for getting him out of the hold swung out over the edge of the ship. He expected a splash at any moment, but his four flailing limbs were lowered into the water in a gentle, easy motion.
Strange men with tanned skins swam at his side and disconnected the sling. He began to sink. He knew he could prevent the sinking if he kicked his limbs, but he didn't have the strength. The men spoke in a strange language. Their tone sounded encouraging, not angry. Finally, one of the men took the rope bridle around his snout and swam by his side, pulling him through the water.
Minutes later he felt his hooves connect with wet sand. His legs sagged, but the man who had refused to let him drown tugged on the bridle again and forced him to remain upright.
More natives gathered on the beach. Laurent saw other donkeys from the ship as they milled in the throng consisting of sailors from the ship and these strange almost naked people with dark hair and tanned skin.
A man in the robes of a priest appeared to be trying to bring order to the chaos. He spoke to the sailors and then to the people gathered on the beach. He said something, and the man holding his bridle tugged on it and led Laurent away from the beach.
The man led him on a trail through a strange woodland. They didn't travel far. In a clearing, someone had built a fenced corral. Other donkeys, as well as some horses and cattle, had already arrived.
A topless woman greeted the man holding his bridle. The man shifted the rope into her hands, spoke a few words. They both looked toward Laurent with worried expressions.
Laurent's dull eyes soaked in the exotic appearance of the naked woman. If he hadn't been so ill, his cock would likely have reacted to seeing her unclothed body so close.
She led him into the fenced corral, but she didn't abandon him. She filled a trough with fresh water, but noticed his aversion as he shook his head weakly and avoided drinking.
Then, she left.
"No," he exhaled and caused his lungs to wheeze. The racking cough returned. "Don't leave..."
She returned. He wasn't sure how much later. She carried a bundle. She unwrapped the cloth and revealed an assortment of leaves and tubers. She took something like a mortar and pestle and ground a fine paste from the ingredients.
She took some of the paste on her fingertips and applied the substance to his nostrils. He felt her fingers enter his nasal passages, dabbing them with the strange paste, which cleared the passages and began to comfort the infected lungs.
She took a strange fruit from the bundle. Laurent saw her offer it to him. She expected him to eat it. When he didn't, she used her fingers again to pry open his mouth and shove the fruit into his jaws. She waited for him. He chewed and released a sharp, bitter taste. He felt an instant of panic, thinking she had poisoned him.
But she remained calm and led him to a shaded spot beneath a tall tree with branches overhanging the corral. She looped the bridle around a wooden fence railing.
He fell asleep soon. Weeks of illness and exhaustion forced him into a deep sleep without thoughts.
He woke the next day to the sound of pissing — his own! He felt weak, but not so much as...
How long had he slept? He had no way to know.
He definitely sensed some returning strength.
His cough lingered, but with less vehemence.
He closed his eyes, and re-opened them. The same woman, still naked, stood in front of him. She took his bridle in hand and led him out of the corral. He stepped better, his hooves clopping on a worn trail that led into a clearing. She led him to some plants and, despite being unable to understand her words when she spoke, got the impression she wanted him to eat.
He surrendered to the donkey's instincts, which led him to succulent vegetation. The donkey gorged itself. The woman looked pleased. The animal that she had feared might not recover looked to be surpassing all expectations.
The men in the ships would be angry if any of the animals had died. Through the translators in the dark robes, she had learned that many of the animals had perished on the voyage. She was not sure why the animals were so important, but the men in the ships didn't like to be questioned.
She let the animal feed as she watched him. When done, she took the bridle and led him back toward the corral.