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Post by Hiraeth on Jul 19, 2018 20:10:58 GMT
Hiraeth had once been a child afraid of the dark, cowering against his Mother with trembling limbs and parted jaws. Those nights were in the distant past, now, and there had been a thousand nights since during which Hirae hadn’t quaked like a leaf. He was a grown wolf, a lover and a fighter – and apparently a mortal destined to become a god.
Yet he had still exited the Black Forest as quickly as his legs would allow. That gloomy place reminded him of the shadows of his childhood where monsters had lurked. There was little use in reminders of a life which was now well and truly behind him; a life he couldn’t return to if he’d wanted to.
Hiraeth had settled for the evening in the place that had been dubbed the Cradle of Snowdrops. He had dispensed with worrying about bending the delicate flowers too much, though something within him rankled whenever he brushed past one. Hiraeth was no tree-hugger but he had always had an appreciation for beautiful things and causing disarray in nature didn’t sit well with him – despite him being content with causing plenty of strife for others in his previous life.
He awoke to the twittering of birds and the sense that something had shifted. Cracking open his eyes Hiraeth found the world had expanded: the snowdrops, once so delicate and dainty, now loomed as tall as Hiraeth himself. The trees were so tall he could barely see their leafy crowns.
“Huh,” the male muttered, turning his head to get a look at himself. His head kept on turning, nearly a full one hundred and eighty degrees, and he let out a startled bark. Where once there had been honey-brown and chocolate fur, now there were dusky brown and russet feathers curving into wings. He tried to lick his lips and found, instead, a beak.
“Uhh… hullo?” he tested. His voice was normal to his own ears – or whatever auditory devices he now had.
It hadn’t yet occurred to Hiraeth that with his newfound form would surely come the ability to fly. That realisation only came after several minutes of quite literally getting in a flap.
363 words | @quartz
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2018 0:22:47 GMT
The wolf-turned-squirrel barely left Pepper’s side these days, and when the other wolf was out and about she barely left her nest. Why go out into the world and risk getting eaten? Unfortunately, she did have to feed herself, and that presented a whole new set of challenges. For one, all manner of plantlife smelled delicious, and yet her wolf instincts never really let her feel full after a feast of seeds and fruit. For another, she was quite a lot smaller than nearly every prey animal out there, and she felt uncomfortable going after things like mice in a body that was so similar. This body could handle meat – she’d seen the odd squirrel eating a frog or a baby bunny, but she hadn’t been able to find anything close to that. So, despite all the risks involved, she found herself bounding along the flowers in search of prey. Maybe, if all else failed, she’d be able to snag a nice, juicy caterpillar or something. Insect meat was still meat, and she’d had no problems treating it as such as a pup. She could go back to that for a week or two, no problem. She just had to find something. At the very least, a beetle might be nice. She’d even settle for a spider or two. If she was smart and careful, she was sure she could avoid its bite. A voice caught her attention, and she froze. Something about being a squirrel made her frequently forget to utilize her powers, even though that’d certainly make her safer. She did that now, scanning her surroundings. Some real squirrels off in the distance, a herd of deer not too far away…and a wolf. Wonderful. One she wasn’t sure she recognized, at that. Part of her wanted to return to Pepper’s nest right then – surely the wolf would offer her a scrap of rabbit or something if she asked – but another part of her wondered if she should offer help. She did have her powers…she could always improve her speed and outrun a predator if she ran into trouble. Maybe she wasn’t as in danger as she originally thought? Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try and scent or view the wolf from a distance. She moved forward, all senses on alert and ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. But there was no sign of a wolf, even as she came close. Eventually, she spotted…a bird? And that was right where her sense was telling her a wolf was located. If not for her own form, this might be confusing, but there was a chance he was intimately familiar with her own circumstances. “It seems they got you, too,” she spoke to the bird. How weird did that look, she wondered. A squirrel speaking in a wolf’s tongue…but this was certainly the land of strange happenings. Chances were, he’d seen weirder. Hiraeth |
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Post by Hiraeth on Jul 24, 2018 10:53:15 GMT
Fate kept twisting and turning Hiraeth’s life into new and strange concoctions. The farther he progressed into this fresh, inescapable world, the more baffled he became by what it threw at him. Being informed that he was to become a god was one thing – that had been difficult enough to absorb - but being transformed into a bird was downright bizarre.
Hiraeth hopped – hopped! It wasn’t a style of movement he was used to by any stretch - around the snowdrops as he pondered this new predicament. Maybe this was his comeuppance for never settling down to build a life; maybe he had been placed in a body as flighty as his mind could be to offer him some new perspective on things.
Or maybe this was some god’s idea of entertainment. Well, Hirae could certainly see the entertainment value in turning a red-blooded wolf into a prey animal. Had he been able to he might have performed this sort of trickery himself. Even the gods needed a show every now and then.
Sharp avian eyes scoured the snowdrop laden meadows for some sign as to what he should do. Birds hunted – other birds and grubs and worms, Hiraeth thought. He’d never paid that much attention to the world’s feathered contingent. Certainly not enough to know what they did with their days when they weren’t singing or flying.
The male had half forgotten he’d shouted out at all – but it seemed to have drawn someone’s attention. His head turned in that jerky way that bird’s heads did and he set eyes on a… squirrel? No, a talking squirrel. A talking squirrel who was addressing him.
Hiraeth ruffled his new feathers and wondered if his uncertainty was as plain as the beak on his face.
“You mean – you’re a wolf, too?”
He tried to smile. He wasn’t sure birds could smile.
“Well, this is quite the pickle we’re in, ain’t it?”
@quartz
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2018 3:22:11 GMT
The bird turned to her and then ruffled his feathers. She tensed, wondering if maybe this had been a bad idea. Was he going to start a fight? She would certainly defend herself if it came to that, though she wasn’t sure how confident she was in her abilities in this form. Having to rely on speed and claws rather than fangs and strength was quite the adjustment. Then he spoke, asking if she was a wolf as well. She nodded, sighing. So whatever had gotten them had elected to grant them the same curse, for whatever reason. She was glad she wasn’t alone in her suffering, but horrified someone had to endure this along with her at the same time. At least it wasn’t as deadly for him, as long as he knew how to use those wings. How hard would it be to keep from being eaten with a wolf’s mind and the ability to fly? As for her…she did have others willing to defend her until she could defend herself, at least. Could the same be said for him? She snorted at what he said next. “To put it lightly. At least these seem to be temporary. We just have to survive until the next curse hits.” She looked around, using her eyes as well as her more divine senses to try to pick up on anything that could be a thread. In bodies this small, they could never be too cautious. “I’m Quartz, by the way.” Hiraeth |
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