ORIGIN

It had been two weeks since the hybrid had fought her Mother, been left scarred, had watched her Mother be pummeled down by a monstrous little bird. Half a cycle had gone by, but to the mutating beast inside the alexandrite prison, it had only been a moment.

It shattered, suddenly, having grown weak as she pressed against it, changed form pushing in odd ways that her old shape had not. She was left sprawled out on the ground, covered in embryonic fluid, like a new-hatched Gemling despite being far more than full-grown. The wolf sneezed, clearing her nose of the goop, but her eyes remained closed, ears flattened, still only half conscious.

The ground beneath her was burned, the grass and other plants having yet to grow back from the bird’s attacks. She laid in the center of the destruction, surrounded in shards of gemstone that gleamed purple and green-blue. A long, thick, tapering tail lashed slowly, as though she were some great big-cat, casting shards aside with each pass.

Her paws clenched in the dirt, digging into it in such a way that was reminiscent more of a primate’s fingers than a wolf’s paw pads. Her ankles ached, and throbbed, in a way they hadn’t since she was a puppy, when she had grown rapidly, her legs often sending her into fits of whimpers from how badly they bothered her. But that was a time long past, and she couldn’t understand why she hurt so.

At the moment, she couldn’t understand much of anything, really. Her thoughts swam about in her head, as intangible and ephemeral as wisps of smokes. No matter how hard she tried to grasp them, to cling to even a single clear thought, it slipped through her fingers and left her wanting. ’Where am I?’ her paws twitched, felid claws ending in needle-sharp points digging into the hard-packed earth beneath her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, head tilting slightly on the ground. A charcoal muzzle, unmarred by any scars she once had, wrinkled as it was peeled back, revealing her fangs, missing her tell-tale alexandrite canine, in a quiet snarl.

The she-wolf’s eyes clenched tighter, as she attempted to focus, vaguely remembering iridescent feathers, and black ones, too. A great deal of pain, and then blissful nothingness. Her tail lashed, an odd sound in her throat as she tilted her head, the tip of a ram’s horn bumping against the ground, stopping her from moving it as much as she wished. ”Wh-?” the sound was low and raspy, little more than the creak of a rusted door hinge, her voice having not been used in half a cycle.

As quickly as she dared, she opened her eyes. The brightness was blinding, and they snapped shut again. Ribcage heaving, she blinked them open, much more slowly this time. Her pupils were little more than pin-pricks, ants darting across gleaming amber.

Shit, this was Eridanus.

Around any corner, she knew, could be the Stag. The Stag or the Deer. Either of the Cats--the green one or the black one--could be up in the trees, watching her at that moment. She needed to be gone, gone before they found, and killed, her.

What had she been doing in Eridanus? Looking for Yewberry, maybe? She had made a point of lurking around Eridanus, trying to find Yewberry, or Cloudberry, or Huckleberry, hopefully all three, get them free and get them safe, get them Home. But… she couldn’t remember, and it set her heart racing jackrabbit fast in her chest.

She needed to go.

The she-wolf gathered her paws beneath her, not noticing the way her claws dug into the soil to brace her, withdrawing to hide in her toes once she was on her paws--only to nearly fall over. ’What?’

Her body felt wrong, alien, like it wasn’t hers. She felt off balance, her forelegs were wrong. Not as they had been when her leg was broken, leaving her to lurch along, but as though they weren’t hers anymore, were shaped wholly different. It felt as though they were far too long and--she staggered a step--were even longer than her hind legs. Her claws shot out from their sheathes, digging into the ground as she almost hit the ground.

Water.

She needed… she needed to see. Needed to find somewhere she could see her reflected, needed to find water.

Had she become like Mother? Mutated and monstrous? Would she find grasping talons on her stomach, a serrated beak in place of her muzzle? Her tongue darted out, licking her lips, feeling the flesh give, fur that was softer than it had been since before she met that fire-bird. No, not a beak. But something was differently, surely. Her head was too heavy, her strides wrong, each step a lurch more than a slink. She felt too tall, as though she were seeing things from a higher perspective than she once had.

What had happened? No matter how hard she pushed, she could not remember any more than feathers that seemed so familiar. Had she seen Yewberry? Had something happened?

A lake, her ears perked up, nose picking up the crisp scent of water. There was a lake in front of her, and she awkwardly stumbled down to it.

Peering into it, she fought the urge to recoil. For a moment, she didn’t even recognize herself. Her fur was a handsome black, so different than it had been Before, re-growing after being burned off. A pair of ram’s horns, strong and sturdy, furled back from behind her ears, coming up to a blunt point beside her head. ’Well,’ she thought dryly, that did explain why her head felt so heavy. Dropping her jaw slightly in shock, she made an embarrassing, squeaky yelp. Where was her gem?!

And then, miraculously, the fang swung down to join the others, along with the other canine that, she only then realized, was missing as well. She could only stare, for a moment, in shock. The motion had felt not unlike when she twitched her ears, only in the roof of her mouth. So, furrowing her brow, she focused hard--it was strange, seeing as it was a different part of her body--but finally, both canines swung back out of sight and, now that she was paying attention, she felt them press up against the roof of her mouth.

Well. Apparently that was now a thing.