It was an adjustment. Never one to linger too long on his appearance prior to the world-shattering dream, Fiend was even more entangled with his emotions and nightmares. Sticking to the shadows was what he knew. He didn’t want to see. He didn’t want to know. But fascination has a way of sinking deep into the bones and sprouting curiosity through the marrow cavities. Cautiously he went back to the pool where he awoke. Inching to the edge, he dipped his hooves in to anchor himself to the physical world and looked. Feral eyes stared back and screamed, “SEE ME.” His hair was soft to rival the illustrious Crane’s feathers. But the bones. His neck, his torso, his ribcage. He stared at the macabre scene. It was a delicate, wonderful orchestra. He threw his head back and laughed for reasons unknown, his echo keeping him company. Frightening he was. Finally settling, he peered back at his reflection, laughing and swallowing to see how the bones danced among themselves. It was the mechanical action of swallowing that reminded Fiend of his stomach’s current situation.
Just in time, a slight breeze wove its way through the trees. He thought he smelled something sweet. Turning, but not before looking longingly at his reflection one more time, although this time more covertly, he followed where the wind came from. It was a faint scent. He needed to be closer, and before that desire was thought into completion, there was a seamless transition that resulted in a fluffy eaglehound standing in his wake. He barked and backpedaled in surprise. He was almost indignant. Clumsy and fumbling he was, he definitely adapted to his new form in sure time. A strong, small frame with big paws, a stubby tail, and no scales he would see of. He was fragile—an eerie, alien feeling. But there were pressing concerns. Down the merry path he pranced, unsure why he was so full of mirth and cheer. Ah, finally, food. Bright pink peppers from a curling vine welcomed him. Hmm. But his favorites were yellow. Looking around, he spied some to the right. Except he couldn’t reach them. Rearing back, he tried to jump on his hindlegs. Instinct drove him, but inexperience pushed him back down on his sides. He growled in frustration. He tried again. This time incorporating a short jump and a yelp. Nothing. Fine. He looked back at the bright pink peppers, so inviting and warm. He helped himself to one, biting into its waxy, giving flesh. His eyes watered and he yowled. Too spicy. Not what he wanted. He wanted the yellow ones. Nothing ever went to plan. He raged in his small form, tearing up the roots and attempting to score the trunks. Except where his horns should have been, he was now sporting a thick bruise. His was a new form. First he was hideous and scary but then MotherFather made him even more monstrous with his see-through bones and scant form. And then there was this useless form where he couldn’t do anything except bark, smell and fit into small holes. He was fed up. Nothing was ever fair or easy for him. No, that would be too easy. He snarled and bundled in a nameless direction until he eventually slipped and fell into a strangely similar murky pool of water.In his new limbs, he pushed him up and looked behind him. Self-conscious? No. Inconceivable. Curious, he looked at his new form. First directly head-on, then to the side and finally backwards from under his feet. He lay on his stomach and pressed his nose to the water to see the glow of his eyes. No horns, no hair, no long tail to swing. He looked like other eaglehounds. Harmless, he surmised. He looked … cute.
Reality gave way to a cold landscape muted of shapes and colors until a lone kimeti stood on a throne of broken bones, cooling blood and fresh gristle. She was plain in design but shone with a brilliance that made him feel like a moth. When she smiled, he felt warmth and acceptance, but since it happened long ago, he felt only a pale imitation of it, and he saw the meat hanging from her mouth. He watched as she lowered her sublime neck to feed once more. She encompassed everything that was good and pure. In this dream he tried to step closer but stopped when he noticed what she was feeding on. A crumpled body lay at her feet, the neck at an impossible angle but on the head were two horns and following the curve of the neck were backspines and a shoulder scale that no doubt had a twin. He recoiled in disgust, but behind him shadows surged forward and overwhelmed the kimeti. Knowledgeable hooves connected with her body, careful of the scales. The same horns she feasted on mauled her small frame; it was a necessary execution. Her cries warbled out as the scene shifted once more.
It would take Fiend an inordinate amount of time to finally untangle and discern all the emotions he felt but at that moment, he didn’t care. Instead, curiosity had him running between the trees like a clumsy, hyper pup eager to explore his surroundings.
