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My first story! Feedback appreciated, but hopefully the first of more to come!
The pouring rain pounded down onto you, stumbling with shoulders hunched through the door frame. Though your jacket was raised to shield yourself from the watery assault, the cheap material had woefully let you down; and the resulting rain that leaked through the drenched garment had you shivering terribly.
It had NOT been a good day.
The bus home breaking down was just the climax at the end of a day full of stress and disappointment. Trudging through the door to hang up your ruined jacket, you proceeded to climb the narrow, cramped stairs to your room to get changed.
The quiet of your empty house. left you alone to think back on the day, as much as you didn’t want to. Searching for the worst moment of the lot.
Was it this morning, when the wild Munchlax had barfed its breakfast all over your shoes while waiting on the bus?
Or perhaps at noon when your manager had lazily meandered into your cubicle to inform you that the big project was going to need to be redone for the fourth time this month due to another department’s failure; and that no, the deadline was not going to be extended to accommodate?
You were pretty sure at least that by the afternoon, when that same manager had already left early – leaving you to your “optional-but-not-really” unpaid overtime - that you had had enough of this day already. So the bus having broken down by the time you could go home was mere icing on a disappointing cake.
But then…these things were no worse than what happened yesterday…and the day before that, and the numerous days before that. And so it was routine for you as – now in drier clothes – you slumped out of your bedroom and back into the kitchen to see what you could bring yourself to eat.
Running your fingers through still-sodden black hair, you perused your options. A fridge full of fresh vegetables and ingredients went ignored – you were so tired you couldn’t bear to cook – and a cheap, nasty microwave meal was nabbed instead from the back of the freezer.
“Sure would be nice to not have to cook after days like this…” You muttered to yourself while ripping off the plastic packaging and placing the congealed frozen food in the microwave.
Gazing out the kitchen window, you vainly tried to distract yourself admiring the ebbing rainfall outside. The woods nearby your house were just becoming visible as the downpour slowed, revealing the expanse of trees extending as far into the distance as you could see.
“Typical, rain ends as soon as I’m inside…”
You were coming to hate how bitter and loud your internal voice had become over the months and months of living alone. If it was all you were going to have for company it could at least not be so pessimistic. And it wasn’t like anyone else was here to comfort you. Consequences of living alone as a bachelor far away from their “family” that wouldn’t give them the time of day even if their lives depended on it.
It wasn’t fair.
I-It just wasn’t fair!
Your face was wet for a very different reason now, tears rolling down your face as you started to shake.
Why were you alone to deal with everything? What had you done to deserve being here, uncared for by those who were supposed to protect and care for you? Where were those who were supposed to protect you?
Sniffling like a child, you cleaned your face and were about to return to warming your meal when something curious caught your eye out the window.
There in the woods, between the mighty oak trees was something huge and red sitting there swaying in the breeze. Sure there were plenty of Pokemon you knew were native to this part of the country but the thing was too big to be a Talonflame and lacked the markings of a Parasect. It almost looked like a big ball of fur just curled in on itself, sitting harmlessly amongst the trees.
Your woes momentarily forgotten; you couldn’t help but notice how…soft it looked…yourmind oddly fixated as you started to daydream of how nice that fur looks to the touch and-
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
You yelped like a wounded dog as the microwave rudely announced dinner was ready, stealing your attention for a moment. When you again turned to the window, you were shocked to see the large clump of fur was MOVING. Deeper and deeper into the forest. That fur belonged to something, hidden from view by its own red fur!
Common sense would have had you stay put and NOT concern yourself with the fur of an almost certainly dangerous wild Pokemon, but some small, neglected voice in you begged to the contrary.
You NEEDED to find that creature.
Your dinner already long-forgotten, you hurried out the front door without a moment to lose, and made for the woods.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been following the trail of the creature, but the darkening sky overhead and low cries of Hoothoots above suggest you’ve been going for a while.
You’re starting to wonder if perhaps this was a bad idea; You’ve been at this so long the journey back alone is going to take ages. You’re not even sure why you were getting this obsessed over a random Pokemon!
You also must be working up quite a sweat because your clothes are getting itchy too! Every minute or so you can’t help but scratch under your shirt, unaware of the little black hairs that are blooming under your clothes, little wisps of ashen fur shedding at your scratches and falling to the forest floor below.
Little tufts of red fur had been your guide before, but you’d stopped noticing them by now. Instead, a curious smell you’d noticed a few minutes back seemed to your mind to be a more reliable way to track the Pokemon. The bizarre animal logic failing to register as odd to your mind.
Your darkening nose twitched again as that warm smell again tickled your senses – filling your mind with nostalgia that warmed your thin developing pelt against the cold air of the developing evening. Snuffling with a distinctively fox-ish noise, you did at least notice how wet your nose had become.
“Do I have a cold or something?” You wondered aloud, wiping your developing sniffer with a hand half-caked in warm fur – sniffing again at that wonderful scent that you just knew belonged to your quarry.
It made you think of home, but not the empty soulless house you had left earlier. It recalled a powerful nostalgia for a past you were sure you’d never lived, yet the way your heart quivered like the swaying trees nearly convinced you otherwise.
*SNAP*
Like a dog hearing a squirrel you snapped your head to the side, your ears twitching and lengthening into points as the snapped branch sounded clear and crisp to your improving hearing.
The offender was a Zigzagoon foraging for food, its brown beady eyes regarding you slowly. The pregnant pause lingered for what seemed like ages as it regarded you before the little raccoon-dog barked at you and began to continue its search for food in the curious zigzag pattern its species was known for.
Friend. The Zigzagoon had called you a friend. You didn’t know how you knew but you just did. Something in the size of its pupils and the pitch of its bark spoke to that little voice inside you that knew how to translate the feral signals into information. That little voice whispered again into your unconscious, and you resisted the urge to bark back at your new friend.
“Catch you around!” you settled on, waving towards the Pokemon with fingertips halfway overtaken by red fur. That inner voice recoiled, a nauseating wave of shame overtaking you at the very HUMAN way you had responded.
Now you couldn’t hold back the soft foxy whimpers as you stood there, feeling like you had done something wrong. Chastising yourself for reasons only half-understood. Your whimpers sounded clearer and clearer as your ears continued to lengthen, sharpening somewhat into soft triangular shapes, the soft black fur having fully overtaken them. As they did so you could hear more and more, the tinkle of the nearby stream now a thundering waterfall to your unacclimated senses. You clasped your hands over your ears to block out the noise, failing to notice the bumps of newly forming paw pads on
your palm.
You shut your eyes tight, the sensory overload too much for you now, until –
*AWROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO*
The loud howl from afar caused you to jump, and in that moment something snapped inside your mind. Your ears flicked and turned like a fox to catch the noise – now suddenly acclimated to the new sensitivity, and your eyes snapped open to see the evening forest much clearer than before, your dull brown eyes now a larger brilliant blue.
Again that quiet inner voice translated for you as you continued in the direction of the howl.
“Come to me” it said. Promising safety from the noise and the cold.
“I’ve got to get home” You decided, sick of chasing…whatever it was you were following, and headed in the direction you knew your home was.
Following the welcoming howl.
You were in trouble.
Your fixation on the search had meant you were still oblivious to the murky gloam of night descending upon you, shadowing the way forward and back, turning what mere hours before was a warm and welcoming bit of nature into a labyrinth of endless wooden obstacles and snaggy roots to trip you up.
And tripping you were, the last hour or so you were finding it terribly hard to stay on your feet as they ached and ached with every step. Desperate for relief you slumped against a tree and made to fling off your suddenly tight shoes, struggling to remove them with fingers that suddenly seemed far less flexible than you remember, nascent claws
snagging on the laces.
Eventually your feet were freed, yet it took the removal of your socks for your feet to stop hurting, as removing the fabric revealed the dark furred paws your feet had become. The paw pads sore from being trapped in those restricting garments, and the fur ruffled and messy.
Why had you worn shoes here anyway? You always went barefoot while out, your fur and paw pads were enough protection for your feet anyway, just like your mother!
“Wait…that’s not right…” You stammered with the first hint of clarity in some time, lifting your hand paws to your face, both still growing new warm black fur, the fingers merging into a smaller paw.
You stared at the red tipped fingers and little claws that had replaced your nails, and noted how short your arms were…were they always so short?
“What’s happening to me?” Your mind swam in confusion. A loud, bitter voice screamed at you that this was wrong, you didn’t have cute little paws and soft warm fur all over you and you definitely didn’t have a mother that had paw pads!
But that voice sounded so mean…so bitter…and there was that tiny voice that told you otherwise.Saying that you always had been swathed in that warm black pelt of fur. Saying that you’d never set a paw in one of those human “offices” you mistakenly had memories of working in. A tiny voice that promised right now that you were almost home.
You liked that voice better.
Rubbing your face with the side of a paw you stood up, now a few inches shorter than when you sat down. The trees looming even larger above you as you suppressed another whimper.
Both voices agreed at least that you had to keep moving, and so you awkwardly continued through the trees, your gait awkward and unsteady as your ankles bent oddly into something halfway towards quadruped paws.
You didn’t have to stumble long before you finally found what you were looking for. In a quiet clearing sat the creature you had been chasing all evening, and this close you could finally identify the culprit.
A large Zoroark, resting peacefully amongst the trees, its arms tucked under it, although the vicious red claws of its hands poked out from under its fanged muzzle resting atop
them.
The vixen – for somehow you could tell she was a female – did not stir at your presence, the low growling breaths of the sleeping creature soothing your anxiety like a warm blanket.
Your eyes locked onto the trait of hers that had drawn you into this chase in the first place: her mane.
It was magnificent. A wild and thick mane of red fur, with tips of black poking out from it. The ponytail-like thing shielded much of the Zoroark’s body from view, but that was ok. You only had eyes for that soft luscious fur. The urge to touch it was overwhelming now you were so close to it, the promise of its warmth and softness virtually hypnotising you as you walked up to the creature and leaned over it.
You had lost so much height by now that you could barely look over the top of it, brushing a half-formed paw through the thick red fur.
It was so soft, your own thickening fur tingled in contact with the Zoroark’s, and as soon as your paw had left contact with the mane you instantly craved its touch again. Leaning in with eyes half-lidded you couldn’t resist the inner voice – so much louder now – urging you to rub your face against it, your face stretching out into the beginning of a cute muzzle as if trying to reach out of its own accord.
“W-Whoa!”
Your wobbly balance on your forming paws betrayed you as you lost your footing and fell face forward into the Zoroark’s mane!
The surge in contact with the fluffy red mane accelerated your changes, inches of height being lost in seconds causing you to disappear more into the Zoroark’s fluff. Your vision became consumed by the darkness as you were engulfed in the soft furry warmth of the mane, your new empowered sense of hearing muffled with the fur blocking your pointed fluffy ears.
“Yip! Yiiiiip!” Your first impulse to scream for help immediately morphed into a high-pitched cry as you lost your sense of direction, cocooned in your new furry home. The thought sent a cooling calm shooting through your body.
Home. This…this was home?
Your brief attempts at thrashing ceased as your panic gave way to a wave of contentment that washed away all your worries…and much else besides it. Names, places, habits, and knowledge. All were smothered in the lush fur of the Zoroark as your changes accelerated. You were able to pick up muffled cracking noises as you shrunk and snapped into your new quadruped posture, your hindpaws – for
that’s only what the black legs topped with red-furred little paws could be called now – disappearing into the Zoroark’s fur as they did so. Your muzzle finished taking shape, new sharper fangs filling it as the fur rushed to hide any evidence that you were anything resembling human.
You should’ve started freaking out as your humanity fizzled out but the moment never came. You felt too tired, your head empty of all those human concerns. And in its’ place, new truths established themselves.
Like who this Zoroark was to you!
As the last of your warm fur sprouted atop your head, giving you a brush-like tuft atop your head – you wriggled inside your furry cocoon to reach the surface.
Your head – now a much larger part of your diminutive body – broke the surface of fur as you blinked sleepily in the nighttime air. A gaze to the side revealed the sharp eyes of the Zoroark, now awake and gazing warmly at you.
“Hello little kit” She spoke in growls and yips that you understood with ease. “You were gone for so long you had Mama worried!” The vixen leaned over and began to lick your headfur gently, filling you with that familiar warmth that attracted you here in the first place – a mother’s love, finally yours to savour.
The vixen’s role slots into your reality like it had always been there. “Sorry Mama…” you started to say, big blue eyes pleading for forgiveness from your new caretaker as you felt the coarse texture of her tongue cleaning your fur. “I wa—I was…” your apology died on your tongue as you couldn’t recall why you had been away from Mama for so long. But the vixen’s expression softened as she ceased cleaning
you, her young Zorua.
“Hush now little Zorua…it’s ok, Mama just missed her little kit” She leaned closer and pressed the top of her muzzle against you, nuzzling into you and letting you feel the gentle vibrations of her soft growls of contentment and the warmth of her body against your much smaller one.
An old voice, now much quieter, protested for the final time that something was wrong and that you had to get away! But it was drowned out as a deep yawn escaped your muzzle instead.
“Seems it is time for sleep now sweetie…You ready to go back in Mama’s mane?” Your mother suggested, the two of you sharing a gaze filled with a love that seemed oddly new and foreign to you, despite your memory telling you this was far from the first time you had enjoyed your Mama’s affection.
Her words were like magic as you felt your eyelids drooping closed in exhaustion – your muzzle snuggling back into the vixen’s mane as you felt truly, utterly safe at last. As you – a young Zorua kit like always – disappeared again into your mother’s mane, your last thoughts before sleep took you were the most certain you’d had all day.
It was good to be home.
The pouring rain pounded down onto you, stumbling with shoulders hunched through the door frame. Though your jacket was raised to shield yourself from the watery assault, the cheap material had woefully let you down; and the resulting rain that leaked through the drenched garment had you shivering terribly.
It had NOT been a good day.
The bus home breaking down was just the climax at the end of a day full of stress and disappointment. Trudging through the door to hang up your ruined jacket, you proceeded to climb the narrow, cramped stairs to your room to get changed.
The quiet of your empty house. left you alone to think back on the day, as much as you didn’t want to. Searching for the worst moment of the lot.
Was it this morning, when the wild Munchlax had barfed its breakfast all over your shoes while waiting on the bus?
Or perhaps at noon when your manager had lazily meandered into your cubicle to inform you that the big project was going to need to be redone for the fourth time this month due to another department’s failure; and that no, the deadline was not going to be extended to accommodate?
You were pretty sure at least that by the afternoon, when that same manager had already left early – leaving you to your “optional-but-not-really” unpaid overtime - that you had had enough of this day already. So the bus having broken down by the time you could go home was mere icing on a disappointing cake.
But then…these things were no worse than what happened yesterday…and the day before that, and the numerous days before that. And so it was routine for you as – now in drier clothes – you slumped out of your bedroom and back into the kitchen to see what you could bring yourself to eat.
Running your fingers through still-sodden black hair, you perused your options. A fridge full of fresh vegetables and ingredients went ignored – you were so tired you couldn’t bear to cook – and a cheap, nasty microwave meal was nabbed instead from the back of the freezer.
“Sure would be nice to not have to cook after days like this…” You muttered to yourself while ripping off the plastic packaging and placing the congealed frozen food in the microwave.
Gazing out the kitchen window, you vainly tried to distract yourself admiring the ebbing rainfall outside. The woods nearby your house were just becoming visible as the downpour slowed, revealing the expanse of trees extending as far into the distance as you could see.
“Typical, rain ends as soon as I’m inside…”
You were coming to hate how bitter and loud your internal voice had become over the months and months of living alone. If it was all you were going to have for company it could at least not be so pessimistic. And it wasn’t like anyone else was here to comfort you. Consequences of living alone as a bachelor far away from their “family” that wouldn’t give them the time of day even if their lives depended on it.
It wasn’t fair.
I-It just wasn’t fair!
Your face was wet for a very different reason now, tears rolling down your face as you started to shake.
Why were you alone to deal with everything? What had you done to deserve being here, uncared for by those who were supposed to protect and care for you? Where were those who were supposed to protect you?
Sniffling like a child, you cleaned your face and were about to return to warming your meal when something curious caught your eye out the window.
There in the woods, between the mighty oak trees was something huge and red sitting there swaying in the breeze. Sure there were plenty of Pokemon you knew were native to this part of the country but the thing was too big to be a Talonflame and lacked the markings of a Parasect. It almost looked like a big ball of fur just curled in on itself, sitting harmlessly amongst the trees.
Your woes momentarily forgotten; you couldn’t help but notice how…soft it looked…yourmind oddly fixated as you started to daydream of how nice that fur looks to the touch and-
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
You yelped like a wounded dog as the microwave rudely announced dinner was ready, stealing your attention for a moment. When you again turned to the window, you were shocked to see the large clump of fur was MOVING. Deeper and deeper into the forest. That fur belonged to something, hidden from view by its own red fur!
Common sense would have had you stay put and NOT concern yourself with the fur of an almost certainly dangerous wild Pokemon, but some small, neglected voice in you begged to the contrary.
You NEEDED to find that creature.
Your dinner already long-forgotten, you hurried out the front door without a moment to lose, and made for the woods.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been following the trail of the creature, but the darkening sky overhead and low cries of Hoothoots above suggest you’ve been going for a while.
You’re starting to wonder if perhaps this was a bad idea; You’ve been at this so long the journey back alone is going to take ages. You’re not even sure why you were getting this obsessed over a random Pokemon!
You also must be working up quite a sweat because your clothes are getting itchy too! Every minute or so you can’t help but scratch under your shirt, unaware of the little black hairs that are blooming under your clothes, little wisps of ashen fur shedding at your scratches and falling to the forest floor below.
Little tufts of red fur had been your guide before, but you’d stopped noticing them by now. Instead, a curious smell you’d noticed a few minutes back seemed to your mind to be a more reliable way to track the Pokemon. The bizarre animal logic failing to register as odd to your mind.
Your darkening nose twitched again as that warm smell again tickled your senses – filling your mind with nostalgia that warmed your thin developing pelt against the cold air of the developing evening. Snuffling with a distinctively fox-ish noise, you did at least notice how wet your nose had become.
“Do I have a cold or something?” You wondered aloud, wiping your developing sniffer with a hand half-caked in warm fur – sniffing again at that wonderful scent that you just knew belonged to your quarry.
It made you think of home, but not the empty soulless house you had left earlier. It recalled a powerful nostalgia for a past you were sure you’d never lived, yet the way your heart quivered like the swaying trees nearly convinced you otherwise.
*SNAP*
Like a dog hearing a squirrel you snapped your head to the side, your ears twitching and lengthening into points as the snapped branch sounded clear and crisp to your improving hearing.
The offender was a Zigzagoon foraging for food, its brown beady eyes regarding you slowly. The pregnant pause lingered for what seemed like ages as it regarded you before the little raccoon-dog barked at you and began to continue its search for food in the curious zigzag pattern its species was known for.
Friend. The Zigzagoon had called you a friend. You didn’t know how you knew but you just did. Something in the size of its pupils and the pitch of its bark spoke to that little voice inside you that knew how to translate the feral signals into information. That little voice whispered again into your unconscious, and you resisted the urge to bark back at your new friend.
“Catch you around!” you settled on, waving towards the Pokemon with fingertips halfway overtaken by red fur. That inner voice recoiled, a nauseating wave of shame overtaking you at the very HUMAN way you had responded.
Now you couldn’t hold back the soft foxy whimpers as you stood there, feeling like you had done something wrong. Chastising yourself for reasons only half-understood. Your whimpers sounded clearer and clearer as your ears continued to lengthen, sharpening somewhat into soft triangular shapes, the soft black fur having fully overtaken them. As they did so you could hear more and more, the tinkle of the nearby stream now a thundering waterfall to your unacclimated senses. You clasped your hands over your ears to block out the noise, failing to notice the bumps of newly forming paw pads on
your palm.
You shut your eyes tight, the sensory overload too much for you now, until –
*AWROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO*
The loud howl from afar caused you to jump, and in that moment something snapped inside your mind. Your ears flicked and turned like a fox to catch the noise – now suddenly acclimated to the new sensitivity, and your eyes snapped open to see the evening forest much clearer than before, your dull brown eyes now a larger brilliant blue.
Again that quiet inner voice translated for you as you continued in the direction of the howl.
“Come to me” it said. Promising safety from the noise and the cold.
“I’ve got to get home” You decided, sick of chasing…whatever it was you were following, and headed in the direction you knew your home was.
Following the welcoming howl.
You were in trouble.
Your fixation on the search had meant you were still oblivious to the murky gloam of night descending upon you, shadowing the way forward and back, turning what mere hours before was a warm and welcoming bit of nature into a labyrinth of endless wooden obstacles and snaggy roots to trip you up.
And tripping you were, the last hour or so you were finding it terribly hard to stay on your feet as they ached and ached with every step. Desperate for relief you slumped against a tree and made to fling off your suddenly tight shoes, struggling to remove them with fingers that suddenly seemed far less flexible than you remember, nascent claws
snagging on the laces.
Eventually your feet were freed, yet it took the removal of your socks for your feet to stop hurting, as removing the fabric revealed the dark furred paws your feet had become. The paw pads sore from being trapped in those restricting garments, and the fur ruffled and messy.
Why had you worn shoes here anyway? You always went barefoot while out, your fur and paw pads were enough protection for your feet anyway, just like your mother!
“Wait…that’s not right…” You stammered with the first hint of clarity in some time, lifting your hand paws to your face, both still growing new warm black fur, the fingers merging into a smaller paw.
You stared at the red tipped fingers and little claws that had replaced your nails, and noted how short your arms were…were they always so short?
“What’s happening to me?” Your mind swam in confusion. A loud, bitter voice screamed at you that this was wrong, you didn’t have cute little paws and soft warm fur all over you and you definitely didn’t have a mother that had paw pads!
But that voice sounded so mean…so bitter…and there was that tiny voice that told you otherwise.Saying that you always had been swathed in that warm black pelt of fur. Saying that you’d never set a paw in one of those human “offices” you mistakenly had memories of working in. A tiny voice that promised right now that you were almost home.
You liked that voice better.
Rubbing your face with the side of a paw you stood up, now a few inches shorter than when you sat down. The trees looming even larger above you as you suppressed another whimper.
Both voices agreed at least that you had to keep moving, and so you awkwardly continued through the trees, your gait awkward and unsteady as your ankles bent oddly into something halfway towards quadruped paws.
You didn’t have to stumble long before you finally found what you were looking for. In a quiet clearing sat the creature you had been chasing all evening, and this close you could finally identify the culprit.
A large Zoroark, resting peacefully amongst the trees, its arms tucked under it, although the vicious red claws of its hands poked out from under its fanged muzzle resting atop
them.
The vixen – for somehow you could tell she was a female – did not stir at your presence, the low growling breaths of the sleeping creature soothing your anxiety like a warm blanket.
Your eyes locked onto the trait of hers that had drawn you into this chase in the first place: her mane.
It was magnificent. A wild and thick mane of red fur, with tips of black poking out from it. The ponytail-like thing shielded much of the Zoroark’s body from view, but that was ok. You only had eyes for that soft luscious fur. The urge to touch it was overwhelming now you were so close to it, the promise of its warmth and softness virtually hypnotising you as you walked up to the creature and leaned over it.
You had lost so much height by now that you could barely look over the top of it, brushing a half-formed paw through the thick red fur.
It was so soft, your own thickening fur tingled in contact with the Zoroark’s, and as soon as your paw had left contact with the mane you instantly craved its touch again. Leaning in with eyes half-lidded you couldn’t resist the inner voice – so much louder now – urging you to rub your face against it, your face stretching out into the beginning of a cute muzzle as if trying to reach out of its own accord.
“W-Whoa!”
Your wobbly balance on your forming paws betrayed you as you lost your footing and fell face forward into the Zoroark’s mane!
The surge in contact with the fluffy red mane accelerated your changes, inches of height being lost in seconds causing you to disappear more into the Zoroark’s fluff. Your vision became consumed by the darkness as you were engulfed in the soft furry warmth of the mane, your new empowered sense of hearing muffled with the fur blocking your pointed fluffy ears.
“Yip! Yiiiiip!” Your first impulse to scream for help immediately morphed into a high-pitched cry as you lost your sense of direction, cocooned in your new furry home. The thought sent a cooling calm shooting through your body.
Home. This…this was home?
Your brief attempts at thrashing ceased as your panic gave way to a wave of contentment that washed away all your worries…and much else besides it. Names, places, habits, and knowledge. All were smothered in the lush fur of the Zoroark as your changes accelerated. You were able to pick up muffled cracking noises as you shrunk and snapped into your new quadruped posture, your hindpaws – for
that’s only what the black legs topped with red-furred little paws could be called now – disappearing into the Zoroark’s fur as they did so. Your muzzle finished taking shape, new sharper fangs filling it as the fur rushed to hide any evidence that you were anything resembling human.
You should’ve started freaking out as your humanity fizzled out but the moment never came. You felt too tired, your head empty of all those human concerns. And in its’ place, new truths established themselves.
Like who this Zoroark was to you!
As the last of your warm fur sprouted atop your head, giving you a brush-like tuft atop your head – you wriggled inside your furry cocoon to reach the surface.
Your head – now a much larger part of your diminutive body – broke the surface of fur as you blinked sleepily in the nighttime air. A gaze to the side revealed the sharp eyes of the Zoroark, now awake and gazing warmly at you.
“Hello little kit” She spoke in growls and yips that you understood with ease. “You were gone for so long you had Mama worried!” The vixen leaned over and began to lick your headfur gently, filling you with that familiar warmth that attracted you here in the first place – a mother’s love, finally yours to savour.
The vixen’s role slots into your reality like it had always been there. “Sorry Mama…” you started to say, big blue eyes pleading for forgiveness from your new caretaker as you felt the coarse texture of her tongue cleaning your fur. “I wa—I was…” your apology died on your tongue as you couldn’t recall why you had been away from Mama for so long. But the vixen’s expression softened as she ceased cleaning
you, her young Zorua.
“Hush now little Zorua…it’s ok, Mama just missed her little kit” She leaned closer and pressed the top of her muzzle against you, nuzzling into you and letting you feel the gentle vibrations of her soft growls of contentment and the warmth of her body against your much smaller one.
An old voice, now much quieter, protested for the final time that something was wrong and that you had to get away! But it was drowned out as a deep yawn escaped your muzzle instead.
“Seems it is time for sleep now sweetie…You ready to go back in Mama’s mane?” Your mother suggested, the two of you sharing a gaze filled with a love that seemed oddly new and foreign to you, despite your memory telling you this was far from the first time you had enjoyed your Mama’s affection.
Her words were like magic as you felt your eyelids drooping closed in exhaustion – your muzzle snuggling back into the vixen’s mane as you felt truly, utterly safe at last. As you – a young Zorua kit like always – disappeared again into your mother’s mane, your last thoughts before sleep took you were the most certain you’d had all day.
It was good to be home.
Category Story / Transformation
Species Pokemon
Size 94 x 120px
File Size 89.1 kB
Listed in Folders
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