A TF gift story I made for my awesome and TFy friend shadowfox014 and as a story to help me get into the swing of writing more again. I really enjoyed making it and I hope you all enjoy reading it. Also, you should totally check out Travis' stuff, since he does wonderful manips, and more lately, great looking drawn art, too!

Travis finds an odd soda left around at home after a rather grueling work day. Couldn't hurt to give it a shot, right?

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Getting home from another long day of work, Travis shut the door with a drawn out sigh; equal parts relief and exhaustion from the time spent in the heat moving about and resting so little. He shakes his head to help clear it of the muddle that he’s feeling, then walks on further inside, dropping down his equipment carefully while on the way to his room. Today was thankfully a day when his parents happened to be away from the house, a much needed thing for him right now, he just wanted to unwind and relax. But before that, he was hungry!
Debating in his mind between starting Skype and having a meal first, his stomach spoke up for him, and so he started the computer but did nothing further as he made his way to the kitchen. “Alright, I’m hungry, but nothin’ on my mind for food…” Travis trailed off as he spied around the kitchen for ideas, catching sight of something he’d not seen last time he’d been in there. “Wait, what’d this be? That a fox on the lid?” Walking over to the counter, there happened to be an odd can of what appeared to be some soda, labeled “Channel the Islands: Fox”.
“This is some joke, right? Keith musta found some gag soda can, there’s no way I could’ve missed this existing” he thought, and yet there it sat. It was a rather unusual look to, beyond the strange title. Set on a background of a photograph of the Channel Islands was the title, with a silhouette of what was unmistakably a fox imposed near the top. Travis turned the can over in his hand, looking for any sort of information or signs it was just some fake labeling on the can, but couldn’t seem to see anything out of the usual, aside from a snippet on the back promising to “help you Channel your inner Island spirit!” He looked along the ingredients, not seeing anything there that’d be unhealthy to him, though he thought it odd that the water was supposed to be specifically from natural watering holes on the Islands.
“Well…doesn’t seem like it’s something bad, and that can’s really neat, too. Oh, you gotta live a little!” And with that, Travis popped the seal to the can, hearing it let out a hiss of carbonation before tipping the can to his lips and drinking some down, sampling the flavors. It tasted great to him, some sort of perfect combination of sweet and tang, balancing with an unexpected spice which left him letting out a surprised ‘yiiip!’ at the kick that last punch of spiciness had. He licked his lips, setting the can down as he realized that ‘taste test’ was nearly half the can. “Geez, that had a lot of kick in it! Though I guess it must be good if I drank down that much and didn’t think twice on it. But really, where did this can come fr-Ooff!” Travis was interrupted by a sudden cramp in his stomach, hand coming down to clutch at it before he stopped, mouth falling open at the sight of what was happening on his hand.
Travis held his hand out in front of himself, not completely comprehending what he saw; it was something that shouldn’t be possible to really happen after all, he’d have told himself, and yet there it was. Running along the back of his hand was an unmistakable patch of ruddy orange hairs, fur. And to add to the situation, the fur was slowly spreading outwards, prickles rippling over his skin as more of the soft fibers sprouted through his skin, dashes of white peppering in the oranges that were spreading along the back of his hand. “No way, I…I gotta get to my room, this can’t be happenin’!” And in a mind driven by panic, Travis ran full sprint over towards his room, almost tripping for a moment as his toes cramped up, nails feeling oddly pressured as they pressed inside his shoes, unknowing of their sharper and longer state of becoming claws now. He made it into his room, panting as he took stock of the situation, gazing once again over his hand, nearly crying out at what’d happened in the time he wasn’t looking. Along his lower arm, there was fur cross most of it, a dark oval of gray fur surrounding the central area of the arm while the rest was that ever familiar orange. His hand was much changed, with his thumb now pulled backwards and having swollen up along the tip, like his other fingers were doing now, with a pawpad and claw poking through the tip. He wriggled his increasingly paw-like digits as he shivered, feeling the way the fur rubbed against his skin. He held up his other hand, noticing that it’d not changed as much, but was beginning to mirror what he saw on the left.
Sighing, he shook his head, trying to clear it of what he was still feeling couldn’t be true, kicking off his shoes before seeing that his arms weren’t alone in their changing state. His toenails had stretched out, becoming sharp claws while his toes were beginning to thicken up along their base, inflating with rough little pads before his balance was nearly thrown off entirely by an odd sensation running through his legs. He looked down with trepidation, fear proving to be well founded as he wobbled on his increasingly furred legs, watching the peppery grey spread upwards towards his thighs, which seemed to be getting closer to the ground. With a shout, Travis fell backwards to the bed, gasping as he saw his legs shrinking down in size, his feet becoming no more than paws for a quadruped’s body and his legs losing much of their lower half, knees creaking and grinding as they pushed upwards, leaving little of his leg’s length to be seen. “No, no, this ain’t real, this ain’t real! I-I must’ve just passed out on the bed after I got home, never had dinner or anythin’, yeah…”
Yelping, Travis couldn’t do anything but fruitlessly try to grasp with his paws as his shorts began to slip down his body; the entire while, a tickle building in his throat and unseen strands of off-white fur sprouting along his throat formed, nose growing wetter as the skin of it darkened and wriggled oddly, stretching the outer edges of his nostrils backwards while the tip of his nose lost some of its point, the entirety of it instead beginning to round out and have a thickening pressure build up behind it. He groaned out loud, trying to let the increasingly strong pressure free from his face, blush forming slightly on his cheeks as his shorts hit the ground, leaving his very vulpine hind legs clothed in naught but underwear, the vibrant oranges and grays of his fur contrasting to the white. Whimpering a little, Travis wriggled slightly as he felt another pinch of pressure building along his spine’s base, tailbone’s nerves throbbing dully at some phantom force tugging and teasing against it, until before long, there was a protrusion starting to force its way out from his spine, pulsating and grinding on his flesh until it began stretching outwards from him along with the bone, forming a new vertebra as it grew ever longer, pressing out against the fabric of his underwear. Travis groaned, shivering at the sensation of what was forming out of his spine, mind unable to believe he was truly growing a tail. But that was the only thing it could be, the appendage continuing to swell and spill flesh outwards from his body, a blooming of thick fur starting to engulf the thickening base, a myriad of colors present, oranges along the bottom with it blending into the grays further around, a thick and prominent gray along the top. All of this continued to stretch down the tail, spreading further as his body pushed and swelled out more of the pulse-pounding growth, panting growing louder as his chest and stomach itched and tingled all over; paws flying to try and itch, to no avail, as bountiful spaces of orange began to erupt from his body, spreading like fire along his torso, while his entire head and torso both started to feel a similar sensation to how his legs had been earlier.
“What? No, no, no I can’t be shrrri-iinking! C…c’mon, wrraooke up!!” Travis tried to shout out, but speech was starting to become distorted as the pressure building behind his changed nose started to let loose. Creaks and pops sounded out, bones crunching forwards from his jaws in elongation, jutting out with halting shudders of bone, stretching more and more out into a pointed vulpine muzzle. His mouth was starting to stretch wider, lips darkening and thickening into a more rubberish texture while across the length of his pulsing, pulling muzzle, dots of skin bumped and raised up, whisker beds prickling as they’re slowly surrounded by dark gray fur beginning to erupt along the stretching snout growing from Travis. The entire time the growth of his muzzle is occurring, the rest of his body is losing size, being consumed inside his shirt as his arms lose much of their mobility, elbows locking around backwards while his entire arms thinned out, losing much of their length, shorter and shorter by the moment, being pulled into his shirt by his shrinking body. “Nroo!! I’m…hruuman, I can’t b-be chraoongrinng!” Travis yelped out, sounding more fox-like with every passing moment, tail whipping and flailing behind him as his underwear are stretched to and fro by the appendage. Despite his protests, he couldn’t halt the progression of his changes, ears sliding smoothly inch by inch along the sides of his head, rims elongating into rounded tips of a canid, fur speckling across inside and out while his skull started to creak and whine out with tension pulling and pushing stronger on him, elongating as it lost much of its vertical sizing. “Raoooraorao! Yip!” With each vocalization, there was less human noises heard and more of a Channel Islands Fox. Travis rolled around, body losing size quickly as his large shirt toppled onto his head, whiskers prickling as they slipped through the beds formed on his newly furred skin, cheeks puffing out with tufts of white, his hair being consumed into pepper grays, the last of the skin on his back finally falling victim to more of the grays; a solid line of deeper gray finishing the job.
Panting and yipping in protest, Travis managed to wrestle his way out of his former clothes, far too large for him, and unfitting for his new form. Travis couldn’t believe it, but his senses told him otherwise, he’d become this, a small, furry, Channel Islands Fox. Travis felt shock and fear, yet there was a small upwelling of joy deep down, something that might just lead to a more peaceful life now. Travis jumped out of the bed, landing gracelessly on the floor before getting his footing, sharp eyes glancing out to the unfinished can as he ran out, leaping upon appliances until he made his way up to it, gripping it in maw carefully before leaping down and heading to his room for perhaps the last time he’d visit it. In his mind, Travis thought to himself, it’d seem he did let his island spirit out. With his tail flicking, he grinned as only a fox could. Maybe he wouldn’t need to be the only one.