Herd Mentality - Tumblr Posts

Didn’t Mean It

Of course, you didn’t mean for it to happen. Oh, yes, I understand you. Are you surprised? Well, you needn’t be so excited over it. Yes, yes, I know, I know. Calm down now, won’t you? You’re not doing yourself any favors by getting so excited. It’ll be harder to communicate, if you don’t relax.

There, now. That wasn’t so hard, was it? And now I can understand you again. Put yourself in quite a pickle, didn’t you? Just look at this mess. What are you, an animal? Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Don’t you snort at me, mister! This is your own fault. It always happens this way. *Sigh*

You were looking for a quick fix, right? Maybe a way to get back at a bully, get even with a coworker, show some egotistic jerk what it feels like from the other perspective? Or maybe you just wanted strength for the sake of strength. People always have their reasons, and they always think they’re good enough to let them do as they please without paying the price.

So, you found the ring, right? Probably some random place. Maybe it was sitting on the kitchen table, or maybe you found it when you were skinny-dipping with your friends. Or perhaps you found it in the pasture? Judging by how you’re looking away, I’m guessing I got it right on one of those. There’s no need to be shy about it. After all, it gave you what you wanted, right? You got your strength, and then some. You must have been so excited when you figured it out.

So what happened? Did you wear it to bed, and wish for the strength, or was it merely that you chose to wear it to work one day, just to make your coworkers jealous, maybe to get them to stop teasing you about a lack of a girlfriend? Well, I’m sure you don’t have to worry about that now. You have your pick of them, after all, don’t you?

Let me guess what happened. You woke up the next morning feeling amazing, am I right? You were positive, happy, productive. Probably managed to get a fair share of your work load done, instead of lagging so far behind. You were by no means a titan, of course, but it got you what you needed, and you started to enjoy your work, despite the jibes from your coworkers.

That night, you probably had a dream of some kind. This type of magic usually uses those types of things, you know, gets you accustomed to the changes that will be coming later. So what was it, then? Dreamt about pulling some sort of load? Maybe carrying a heavy beam on your shoulders? Perhaps you stacked your bales and boxes effortlessly into place, balancing hundreds of pounds on either shoulder. Whatever the case may have been, you certainly must have dreamt about your strength that night. You wanted more. Considering where you are now, that’s fairly obvious.

Over the next week or so, your strength increased steadily, and your body began to put on mass. It was small at first, naturally. It must have been. Didn’t want it to be too obvious. The magic knows how to be subtle when it wants to be, especially if the enchanter deliberately wants the changes to be slow. I’m sure the changes came faster over the next few weeks. You grew taller, broader, heartier. Your strength and stature grew to such an extent as to rival your fellows, and that unnerved them. What had once been an idle game to pass the time and lord their superiority over you had now become an earnest bid to hold back the budding competition. Isn’t it curious how much like animals humans can be sometimes?

Perhaps it was a girl you managed to snag. Maybe it was your former tormentors trying to belittle you mentally, rather than physically. Whatever the case may be, the boon granted by the magic was not enough to content you. You had the strength to rival your fellows; surpass them, even. Your biceps and triceps had swollen with power. Your legs had become thick and stocky to support the heavy loads you laid on your back or your shoulders. You could cart water barrels with ease, and heave hay bales with the best of them. You had become so strong that you could even endure longer than your fellows in the heat of the day with just a few sips of water, and a light meal. But you still felt smaller on the inside when they insulted your manhood, didn’t you?

I can see by your reaction that I am right. What did they do, pull down your pants, and mock you in public, or was it merely that the woman with whom you sought to lie fled after seeing the goods, so to speak? Now don’t look at me like that. They really are the goods now, you know. Or have you forgotten your current situation in the heat of the moment? Okay, okay, I’ll try to stop with the puns, but I make no promises. Once I get started, I tend to fall into a rut. Now, now, no need to get testy. Like I said before, I can’t understand you when you get riled up. Control yourself.

So, you made another wish, this time desiring to become … what’s the phrase you people use? Well endowed? The ring granted that desire, too, didn’t it? You dreamt of conquests, of escapades, night after night. With the end of every dream session, your manhood expanded. Your voice began to drop. Your trousers grew tighter in all the right places, and the women began to notice. You didn’t even care as you began to grow a beard, or when the hair began to grow on your arms and legs. The women called you handsome, rugged. You wrapped each and every one of them around your little finger, and you began to take pleasure in watching those men’s faces fall at the talk from the women. The girls didn’t even seem to care how you were jumping between them. After all, you were quick to tell them you weren’t looking for a relationship. And, for some reason, they didn’t seem to mind.

Ah, but you’d gotten a taste of what it felt like to dominate now, hadn’t you? You felt the thrill of being the best of the best, pure stock in every sense of the words. The confrontation that followed was inevitable. They jumped you on the way out from the tavern, tried to hurt you, maybe even kill you. I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there, and I haven’t read their memories. However, I can guess how it went. Your senses alerted you. You heard them, smelled them, maybe even felt them. The reek of alcohol on their breath must have been horrible, indeed. You took some heavy blows, but, ultimately, you stood victorious. The rush of that victory must have been great indeed. You must have been on such a high. What happened next, I can only guess, but I would assume that was your tipping point. You warned the men off, told them this was your job, and these were your girls. You told them that you were the boss now, the head of the herd, and you told them– no, you commanded them to fall in line. And they did, didn’t they? They didn’t have any choice. You were given the run of the ranch. And, if the boys were especially good, you’d give them the chance to vent some of their pent up frustration on some female companionship. You must have thought yourself such a great benefactor.

I wonder, how long did it take you, in that power-hungry daze of yours, to realize something might be wrong? Was it the enhanced libido? Hmm. No, not that. I can tell just by looking at you that you reveled in that part of your changes. You’d come to think of your conquests as trophies, your property, to be taken whenever and wherever you desired. The more you exercised your . . . privilege, the more you came to crave the sensations that came with it, and the more your women came to crave you, isn’t that right?

You became more crass, primal. You set the example, and, inevitably, the men you had culled soon followed behind. Those who pleased you began to share in the bounties of your gifts to a lesser degree, until you had set up a proper line of command. They grew heartier, stronger, more virile, while the women became fatter, more buxom. You drank yourselves till your vision blurred, and the world spun around you. When you woke the next days, you didn’t care about the headaches, so long as you had a warm body to take. Why, I bet you hardly even noticed as your tastes shifted from meats to grains and other vegetables. It simply added to your strength and charm. Besides, grains and vegetables are cheap, so why should the owner complain?

I wonder, when did you start deciding who to sleep with by smell? Was it a conscious decision, or did it just creep up on you as your nostrils began to flare out of habit? Oh, I’m certain you must have breathed in the scent of every woman you took for yourself, memorized it. And every time they were near, the moment that scent hit your nose, you felt your need rising again, felt your manhood expand, and you took who you wanted for all she was worth. There was little relationship involved. You wanted something, and the women gave it to you. And, of course, with no real interest in anything other than what you’d gotten so used to receiving, there was no need for words.

Your dreams began to blur with reality next. One moment bled into the other in a never-ending cycle of eating, work, sleeping, dreaming, and taking your women whenever the mood struck you. Come rain or shine, you kept working, and your skin grew thicker. You hardly felt the drops as they fell, or the bites from the flies and other insects that tried to pierce you. From time to time, you and your men would defend your women from outsiders, keep them safe as you tested those prospective men. Some made the cut, and joined your little gang, quickly filing into your rather close-knit little group. Others were driven off through intimidation. It must have felt so good to you.

You did your work, you pressed on, even as your hair grew into a short, thick coat along the rest of your body, and your nose began to press outwards. Your brow thickened as your ears began to point and shift. A weight began to weigh down on your head as your neck and shoulder muscles expanded accordingly, causing you to look down naturally as you interacted with others, not that that bothered you. After all, you were the biggest male there, and you reveled in that fact.

And the women. Ah, those poor girls. They changed, too, didn’t they, because you wanted them to stay with you, to remain yours. They clung to you and your band of men, though I suppose you could hardly be called men by that point, could you? You ate, you drank, you worked, you laid around, and you let yourselves go.

I wonder, when was it that you stopped bathing? Was it when your tail started to grow in? Perhaps when your face began to warp and change to match your behavior. Either way, I’m sure your employer must have raised some concerns, until you brought him in line. You had your run of the fields then. You took care of the ranch for a time, ran the cows on their milking schedules, fed the herds, made sure they knew you were the boss. You kept your men shirtless at that point, didn’t you? After all, they’d just tear through the fabric anyway, with the way their musculature was growing. Your interests trailed away from town, away from the things of men. You didn’t want beer anymore. You didn’t need the usual foods. You had milk, you had your vegetables and feed, and, eventually, you had your cud, didn’t you? No need to worry about the changes happening to the men. After all, they were just following your example. They didn’t look any different from you, now, did they? So why worry about it?

I wonder, when did you finally break out of your primitive stupor to try to stop this from happening? Was it mating season? I bet it was, wasn’t it? By that point in time, mating had become as natural to you as breathing. You were probably so big that you needed a loincloth to satisfy what little sense of decency you had left. So, what happened? Did you catch one of your men going feral?

That look in your eyes say it all.

One of your boys was late to feeding time, weren’t they? Hmm. Yes, I can see it in your memories. Since when could I read your memories? How else do you think I’m communicating with you? I’m in your mind, stupid. Well, somewhat, anyways. The connection got deep enough that I could look, but now you’re clouding it over again. Come on, chin up. Clear out that anxiety. I need to see what happened.

Why? Why, so I can judge you, of course. Silly human. Or should I say silly bull now? Ah, but I digress. Let’s get back to the topic at hand, shall we?

So, you went in search of the wayward member, and you followed his scent. It didn’t take you long to find him. You heard the feral bellows, saw the tattered remnants of the loincloth you’d made him wear. By the time you got there, it was too late, wasn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if the metamorphosis had already completed itself. He was well and truly feral by that point, wasn’t he? I’m sure the cow didn’t mind. If she was in heat, she would welcome a strong male to mate with her. What did that do to you, I wonder? Did it fill you disgust? Did it fill you with fear? Or was there only lust, and a rapidly growing need to sate it?

Hmm. Not feeling so confident in your so-called innocence now, are you? I wonder. Did the ring really whisper to you, or was that just your own primal id making itself known? I can tell you’re starting to wonder yourself. As I said before, you humans can be so very much like animals. It’s quite funny, really.

I’m not surprised at the sudden sense of fear you felt running through your system. Adrenaline pumping, nostrils flaring. I wonder, did you finally look in a mirror then, after all that time, I mean really look? Yes, I see. You saw a rugged, handsome, virile man each time you looked in that mirror, didn’t you? But now you’d seen something that opened your eyes to the truth. I wonder, what was your reaction when you finally realized? Come now, don’t be shy. Let me see it.

Ah, so that’s what happened. I sense the fear, the pain. Ooh, that rage. Yes, now that is a potent energy. You were quite the vessel, weren’t you, keeping that bottled up for so long? No wonder the ring came to you. So, you smashed the mirror with your bare fists. Much to your horror, though, you didn’t take any damage, did you? Ah, yes, there it is. You saw your hands changing. Your skin darkened, thickened, hardened to the point where a little thing like glass shards couldn’t do a thing. The weight on your head increased then, and you felt your horns, truly felt them, for the first time. I wonder, was it a scream or a bellow you let loose at that point? Ah, I see you don’t even know.

And next . . . ah, yes. Of course, you rushed back to the mess hall. But I’m certain it must have well and truly become a proper mess by that point. Your men were licking and snuffling at their bowls, not even deigning to use their hands as they slowly morphed into thick, sturdy hooves before your eyes. They looked at you, and they hardly beat an eyelash. Some few let out a cursory snort or grunt of greeting as their new tails whipped casually behind them. For the first time, you noticed the piles of manure that had been building in the hall, saw the sad and bedraggled state of the room as your men shoved their faces into giant bowls of warm, fresh milk. You watched the light leave their eyes, saw their horns sprout, their small remnants of clothing shredding as they expanded into proper bovines.

They let loose their calls, then, and the ladies soon joined them. I won’t force you to relive those changes. It seems you torture yourself with them enough as it is. And . . . what’s this? Oh, my. You really did like that heifer, didn’t you? You actually felt some remorse for her. Well, at least until the ring had its way with you. She’s not a heifer anymore now, is she? How many calves has she had? I see. You have been in this field awhile, haven’t you? Four calves, you say? And I assume you were the father for each one? But, of course you were. You wouldn’t let any of the others sully her like that. No, it had to be you, didn’t it?

Ah, you were protecting her, you say. Well, I suppose I can believe that to an extent. After all, it’s not like you had many higher reasoning functions by that point in time. And you were the head honcho, so to speak. If she was ready to mate, and she needed it, you would have made sure to give it to her. It is a rather fine line, isn’t it? Hmm, but it must have felt so strange having the ring shift to your nose. And the moment it did, you found yourself feeling so docile, didn’t you? You just got right down on all fours, and let the magic finish its work.

Hmm? No, of course I don’t mind you being in this field. And no, I’m not going to turn you back. You’re all too far gone for that, I’m afraid. I can promise you all a good life, though. I’ll take care of you, let you live free range, give you the food and shelter you require on the colder nights. You won’t even have to worry about being slaughtered. The only thing I ask in return is a steady supply of your mates’ milk, and perhaps permission to use some of your manure from time to time in my farming enterprises.

Hmm? What for? Why, for my new restaurant, of course. That seems a fair trade, wouldn’t you say? Judging by the glowing on your nose ring, I’d say you agree. Don’t worry, you’ll be well taken care of. Though you may feel a slight burning sensation for a moment. Sorry about that. The magic had to brand you, so we could tell you and your herd apart from the originals. The former humans won’t have to worry about slaughter, but the other members in the herd may still face the chopping block, so to speak, when they’re old enough, and not long for this world. But you don’t really care about that now, do you, Big Ben? There’s a good bull. Now why don’t you go ahead and graze with the others? I have some calls to make.

Oh, and welcome to TF Foods Incorporated. It’s really been such a pleasure doing business with you.

Credit to @thingsthatcannotsaveyou for this image.

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Sorry it took me so long to write this one. I asked my fans what they wanted next, and the most responses leaned toward something of a more mythical persuasion. So, I hope you all enjoy this lovely TF. I’m afraid it’s a long one, so this once, I’m going to use the read more function. Please click it and read all the way through. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.

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The Meadow

It’s been a while since I came here. I ... don’t really even remember anymore. I remember walking through the park and seeing this weird gate. It’s always been there. I mean, the posts were old and worn by the weather. And besides that, the grass had grown up all over the sides in clumps. The only strange thing about the gate was just that. It was only a gate, a small swinging wooden one, in the middle of nowhere. There was no fence, no wall, just ... the gate.

So, curious that I am, I finally worked up the courage to open the thing. Nothing seemed all that out of the ordinary until I stepped through.

Ever heard of that premise of stepping through into another world? I think it’s called ... um ... hmm ... I don’t recall. That ... should worry me, but it doesn’t. It’s just so ... content here in this place. Peaceful.

Does it ... really even matter that I don’t remember? I know it used to, but now ... now I’m not so sure.

I do remember closing the gate. There was a sign there. Something that asked me to close it again after, rather than leaving it open. I complied by pulling it shut behind me. I didn’t realize what that gate was until after I’d already let go of the wood. It rattled like the door of a paddock, and suddenly there was a fence behind me. And green, verdant forests beyond. Groves that were lush and dark, tantalizingly so. I could smell the fresh scent of wet grass and wildflowers in bloom. The wind carried no signs of the city I had been in. No car horns blared. No motors roared. No dump trucks clanked as they seized their loads and chucked trash into their crushing jaws.

A ... compactor. Is that what they were called? How strange. We have no need of such things here. So, there’s no need to focus on them. No real need to remember. They’re loud and obnoxious and smell bad. It is better without them. It is better here in the field, in the meadow beneath the sun.

I remember the smell of manure. It was strong at first. I followed the fence boundary for a while, letting my nose do the directing. And eventually, I came to another boundary where the fence broke off. The lowing of cows greeted me. There was a large barn in the distance, and I watched, leaning on the fence, as someone led a bull out of the opening. It lumbered slowly and swayed almost drunkenly under the care of its handler.

I know I should have felt alarmed at this. There were no farms in the town limits. No pasture like this. Definitely no ranches. But ... I don’t know. I suppose I felt ... muted somehow. That part of me, I mean. There wasn’t fear or worry, just ... curiosity, like in a dream.

I remember the herd lowing, the figure turning to look at me. He was too far off to really get much of a proper image. I just know he was big based on the outline I could see. He led the bull toward a cow, then untied its nose ring, patted its side gently, pulled something off its back, and strode to me.

By this point, I was convinced I was in some kind of dream. The closer the figure drew, the larger it became, and the more prevalent the smell of cattle. Finally, I craned my neck to look the male in the eye.

You would have called him a creature. I do not feel it right to say such things about him. He is kind. He cares for his herd. He is a good keeper. At the time, I did not understand this. All I understood was the strangeness of it all. He held the cloth bunched in one hand, but I recognized the iconic green face that wrinkled in his grip. He carried the remnants of a Star Wars shirt. Why a bull would have that on it, I didn’t know. It’s possible the cloth was just being used as a rag. I believe that’s how I rationalized it at the time.

As rational as one can be when they think they are dreaming.

He spoke to me in a soft, deep voice. His torso was bared to the world, and it was carpeted in a rich coppery coat of short bristly fur. His beastly muzzle contorted easily to form the words, and a pair of polished horns sprouted on either side of his head to rise high in the air. The weight caused his head to bow ever so slightly. Or perhaps that was merely because of the size of his shoulder muscles by his neck. Bulls are built very stout, you know, even the ones that walk on two legs.

“Well now, isn’t this a treat? Don’t see many of you folk round these parts anymore. Don’t think anyone’s visited that there meadow for ...” He frowned. “Not sure how long, really. Where’s Admentos?”

“Who?”

“Admentos. Your caretaker. He usually greets stallions like you at the gate. Never known him to be late before.”

“Stallion?” I gaped disbelievingly at him. But then again, this was a dream. Or so I thought at the time.

“Admentos handles horses. I handle cattle. We both take care of farming and herding.” He shrugged his titanic shoulders. I couldn’t help but note the fact he had dark hoof tips on his fingers. “S’why we’re neighbors. Someone’s got to work the land.”

“Aren’t there machines for that?”

The wood splintered under his tightened grip. “We don’t got machines here, and we don’t want ‘em.”

I backed away, startled at the sudden change in his demeanor.

The bull man shuddered and took a deep breath. Then the tension left his body, and he released his grip on the fence. I could still see the imprints left by his fingers.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t mean to scare you, big fellah.”

Off in the distance, the bull had coupled itself with the cow. I quickly looked away and blushed heavily. The bull man looked back and smiled.

“Good to see him settling in. Herd’ll treat him right, I’m sure. As for you...” He frowned. “S’not like Admentos to be late.” He leaped over the fence, and thick powerful hooves clopped heavily on my side of the property. “C’mon, Fellah. Let’s go find him.”

“What?”

“The owner. My friend? He takes care of this plot of land. It’s his territory. I’m not generally one to trespass, but I got a little leeway, seein’ as we’re on such good terms.”

I looked over the long green grass as a breeze spread the sheen of the sun like a wave. And just like the ocean, there was no end in sight. The fence and forest stretched like a shoreline over an otherwise unbroken expanse.

“Big acres,” I muttered.

The bull man shrugged. “Herds need a lot of space.” He pulled an apple from ... I don’t know where and offered it to me. “Hungry?”

“Uh, ... thanks,” I said hesitantly as I took it from him.

“No problem.” He shrugged. “I like to spoil y’all every once in a while. Think of this as a sort of apology for startlin’ ya.” He chuckled. “Admentos’d skin me alive if he knew I had. Some of his herd takes a while to calm down again. They can be excitable.”

“... I’ll bet.” I looked down at the apple and buffed it as best I could against my shirt. The bull man watched me intently, and ... well, I didn’t want to cause offense, so I took a bite.

I nearly dropped the apple. Juice dribbled down my chin, and I lapped it up almost without thinking. It was sweet. It was delicious. And it had just a hint of tartness to balance it out for a smooth ride that left me tingly all over. I’d always had a hankering for apples, but this, this was the best apple I’d ever tasted in my life. My world shrank around the experience, and for the briefest of moments, I think I finally understood what foodies and food critics meant about finding that perfect dish.

The apple was gone before I knew it, and I blinked in surprise at the core that now lay in the palm of my hand. When I finally processed what it was, I looked almost sheepishly at the bull man. “Is it all right if I toss this?”

He raised a brow, but shrugged. “If you want. S’not like it’ll cause any harm.”

I threw it away. And it was only then that I realized we were surrounded by the meadow. I couldn’t see the forest, and I couldn’t see the fence where we’d been walking. My eyes widened. “What the...?”

The bull man chuckled. “Finally noticed, huh? You were too wrapped up in that there apple. Didn’t want to ruin it for you.” He smiled kindly. “We’re almost there now. Should be just over that rise.”

I was surprised to feel the beginnings of a slope pushing against my feet. I had to lean forward to keep my balance as we began our ascent. It didn’t take too long before we were staring down at a reasonably sized farmhouse and a large old-fashioned red barn. The occasional whinny or sputter would carry on the wind from the various horses that trotted around the area, almost like a patrol. Others were busy rolling their backs on the cool grass. I couldn’t help but smile as fond memories of rolling down hills as a child replayed in my head.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

I nodded my agreement as we shuffled and sidestepped our way down. One of the horses immediately rushed at us. The bull man stepped in front of me and held up his hands when the stallion reared.

“Whoa there, Thunder. We ain’t here to cause no trouble. Just lookin’ for Admentos.”

The horse tossed its head and whinnied.

“Now don’t give me that. You know I don’t come uninvited ‘less there’s a reason. And I do have a reason, a darn good one. Now where is he?”

The stallion sputtered and pawed at the turf.

“Busy where?”

I felt like I was in the middle of Old Yeller, only the dog had been replaced with a horse. I swatted casually at a fly that had decided to roost on my arm. Darn sucker nearly bit me.

I heard what I thought might have been a groan and frowned in concentration. It took me a few seconds and some extra groans before I pinpointed it at the barn. I pointed. “Uh...”

The two continued to argue with one another.

“Hey.”

Again, I was ignored as the bull man began to tell the stallion off. At this point, the groans had turned to a loud cry, and my heart beat fast in my chest. “Hey, bull man!” I shouted. That drew both the stallion’s attention and my escort’s. I pointed at the barn. “I think you’ll find your answer in there.” I winced as another scream pierced my ears. They almost seemed to twitch in sympathy, though I was sure it was just a muscular response from years of practice. I took a great deal of pride in how I could make my ears wiggle in my younger years.

The stallion glared flatly, almost hatefully at me, as if I’d caused some grave offense. I glared back. “Listen, you jackass. I just got hauled to god knows where out of nowhere, met a literal scientific impossibility, and now I hear someone in pain. I am not in the mood for dealing with a pretentious jerk when someone needs help. This is my dream, not yours. Now shut up and move aside.”

The horse ran to cut me off. I wasn’t having it. I snatched its ear and twisted hard when he missed biting my fingers. Don’t know how I knew it’d work, but it did. The horse squealed and dropped to its belly. My body surged with exultation and my teeth clacked as I yanked and forced it to look me in the eyes with one of its orbs. “I’m glad we understand each other. You can follow us if you want, but you will not interfere. Got it?”

The stallion tried to bite me again. I twisted harder.

“Got it?”

I loosened one of the buttons on my shirt as the horse squealed softly through gritted teeth and a tear spilled down its cheek. “Good.” It’s difficult to say exactly what happened after. I certainly felt breathless when I got to the barn door, but I don’t remember whether I ran or not. There was a beautiful white horse lying on the floor, and the cries were coming from her. Her stomach was swollen way beyond anything I’ve seen in a horse before, but what really took me by surprise were two things. The fact I heard a very human voice coming from it, and the fact that the man tending so feverishly to her happened to have the lower body of a horse.

The bull swore. “Dekára, Admentos, why didn’t you call me?” Rough hands shoved me aside as the bull man approached and got to his knees. “How long has she been in labor?”

Admentos had shiny black hair that flowed like a mane down his back. The brown fur from his horse body rode up his torso in a trail that was emphasized by the patches of white fur on his wrists and elbows. Like his neighbor, the man was exceptionally well built with muscles to match the size of his breed, which happened to be a Clydesdale. Sweat gave his body an unusual gleam, and his cheeks were flushed from exertion. “Six hours. She’s in a lot of pain. I’ve had to keep a close eye on her to stop her from hurting herself.”

“Twins?”

Admentos nodded grimly. “The pregnancy's been vary hard on her.” Then he looked at me. “When did he come?” he asked.

“Not long ago. He wandered to the fence. We had a chat, and then I brought him here.” He chuckled. “Thunder’s going to have competition.”

“What did he do to Thunder?” Admentos held the mare’s head carefully and stroked her neck gently.

The bull man grinned. “Twisted his ear. I’m telling you, that stallion’s a fighter. I think he’ll be good for your herd.”

“So long as he’s not a blowhard. I don’t need another swollen head.”

“Is she going to make it?” I asked. It was perhaps the first time I had spoken since arriving at the barn. My shirt felt unusually tight, and the blood flow from what I assume was running left everything else feeling like it was getting shoved in a sausage sleeve. My waist felt like it was getting squeezed by a vice.

Admentos shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Another scream. I winced.

The mare tossed and turned, nipping at her flanks, beating her stomach, and otherwise squirming and shifting around.

“What’s she doing?”

“Trying to get the foals in alignment. Once they’re ready to broach, the rest of the delivery should go smoothly.

This time, when she screamed, I understood what she was saying. “Get them out of me! It hurts! It hurts so much!”

Admentos brushed her head comfortingly. “You’re doing great, Fria. Hold on.”

She nickered weakly and sobbed. “I’m so tired.”

“Just a little longer,” Admentos assured her. She screamed again. This time, there was a gush of fluid out her rear.

“Thank the Dagda,” Admentos breathed. “She’s finally ready.”

The hard part of the delivery was over in about a half an hour, maybe a little more, since there were two foals to deal with. We gave her the necessary space at Admentos’ insistence, though he noted a close watch would need to be kept on them, and extra milk would be needed for both foals to receive the nutrients and antibodies to survive.

Admentos was the only one allowed to approach the new family. He didn’t want to risk startling the mare when she was so exhausted, especially since she still had the afterbirth to worry about.

I was led out of the barn by the bull man, and he introduced himself as Adras. We walked to the farmhouse together, and he explained how this place worked.

“Y’see, folk like you, well, I guess you could say you’re sort of special. You see what most folk don’t. Dunno whether it’s belief, blood, or somethin’ else, but y’all find your way here to our turf. S’not always the meadow or m’ranch. There’s lots of places. Lots of caretakers.” Adras opened the door, one of those swing-style two-part things with a big bulky latch to hold it in place. Adras undid them both easily and opened the way for us to step inside.

The floor was soft grass that seemed almost to give a little as I stepped over it. It wasn’t quite like a mattress, but it was fairly close. I didn’t see any signs of a refrigerator. Instead, the room was full of jars and other tools and knickknacks. Different jars were labeled with pictures and words both to help differentiate them. Flour, honey, butter, bread, cream, milk, and so on.

When I looked up, I could see the open sky stretching just above the rafters as they faded into it, and I gaped. It was like something out of Harry Potter. The two stories outside were more for show. The building itself was all one floor, just built with a much taller ceiling. To make it comfortable for guests, Adras explained to me. Given his size, I could relate to that statement. Everything in the house seemed to be designed with big bodies in mind. Given the fact the caretaker was a centaur who had what I assumed to be a minotaur friend, it sort of had to be.

He handed me a couple of the ones with a horse head and a milk bottle printed next to each other on them. “Here. Carry these.” I was shocked to be able to carry even one of them, given the ominous scrape the vessels made when tehy were lifted up. But I was too startled to say no.  When he gave me a second, I shrugged. Once I had my arms around them, the things didn’t feel so heavy.

Adras nodded. “Thought you were a worker.”

I frowned at that. “What do you mean?”

He grabbed a few more ingredients, including a bag of feed, and started walking. The door was left open behind us, but he didn’t seem to care. My hands were too full to really do anything, so I just followed behind. “Just that. You’re carrying those vessels, aren’tcha?” He chuckled. “Bet you could carry more, too, if you’d a mind to.”

I blushed. “They’re not that heavy....”

He grinned and ruffled my hair with a free hand. “That’s the spirit.” Then he smacked ... patted(?) my shoulder. I thought I was going to stumble, but he must’ve held back. Either that or I somehow instinctively knew how to brace myself. I’m ... not sure which.

By the time we got back to the barn, my skin felt like it was crawling, not like a spider on your skin, kind of crawl, more like that tingling sort of wave that spreads over sometimes when you have a strong feeling or hear the right kind of sound, you know? I crouched and lowered the vessels near Admentos.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“No problem,” I replied. Had to clear my throat for part of it. My voice cracked midway. He just smiled at my docility and handed me an apple. “I’m afraid this is all I have to offer as a reward for now.” He chuckled. “It’ll be a while before I’m free to help you with anything else, but you’re welcome to stay here till things settle in properly.”

I bit greedily into the apple. It tasted even better than the last one. I hardly even noticed the strange wording he’d used. “I can live with that.” The heavy clop of Admentos’ hooves echoed in my ears as I ate. The smell of the manure and other horse smells was strong at first, but I got used to it. Felt like I was breathing more and more of it the longer I stood there. My chest just kept inflating. My teeth ground the apple to mush. Then I swallowed. It felt peaceful here, calm. I kind of liked that.

Adras wrapped a burly arm around my shoulders. “Come on, Champ. Let’s get you out of here.”

The big stallion from earlier sputtered at Adras, tossed his head, then nickered when we stepped out of the barn.

“She’s fine, big fellah. You should be proud. Two foals. Admentos is looking after her now. Probably gonna be a while before he lets you in to see her.”

The horse gazed flatly at me. I returned the gaze calmly and took another bite out of my apple. “We going to have any more problems?”

The horse continued to stare at me.

“He expecting something from me?” I asked.

Adras chuckled. “Sizing up the competition. Ol’ Thunder here don’t like gettin’ showed up.”

“And he expects me to be a threat?”

“You handled him, didn’t you?”

“On an impulse, because this is a dream, or at least feels like one.” I shrugged. “Read that’d work in a book somewhere. He was being a jerk. If he’s not a jerk, we won’t have any problems.” I looked at the horse. “Sound good, Thunder?”

The stallion sputtered, reared, boxed at the air with his forelegs, then turned and ran off.

Adras smiled ruefully and shook his head. “Always gotta show off, don’t ya?” He chuckled. “He’ll probably be back at you again later, but you’ve shown you can handle yourself. I don’t think he’ll be much more than an inconvenience.”

I nodded and raised my hand to take another bite, only to find the apple was gone. Had I really eaten it all already? And what had happened to the core?

Adras smiled, walked over to a hill, and leaned back against the slope. “Might as well get settled in. S’gonna be a while before Admentos comes out. Besides, this here’s good country, old country. Folk like you don’t get the chance to really enjoy this kind of thing that often. Not anymore, anyway.”

I followed his example and kicked back on the grass. The coolness of the surface sent a pleasurable chill over my skin through the fabric. I couldn’t help but stretch and groan as my back arched. I squirmed to eek out as much pleasure as I could. And like an eel, my back contorted and twisted with me. In time, it became less about finding comfort and more about just ... being in the moment, enjoying the sensation. It was almost like that feeling you get when you’re scratched on your scalp enough times that it just sort of tingles repeatedly. And I felt that I wanted, maybe even needed, more of that.

The sun shone down on me, and my skin baked, thickening as my body soaked up the rays. The whinnies of the horses rang in my ears as my groans of pleasure became deep and, pardon the pun, hoarse nickers. I didn’t care when my shirt began to tear. I did care with the tightness of my waistband and pants. Seriously, they were cutting off my circulation. I ... think Adras had something to do with fixing that. Either he cut them off or ... broke them down to their base components somehow? I don’t know. 

Thinking back on it, I ... sort of remember what it was like when my hands changed? Not exactly, though. I know my hands merged into a solid hoof each, and that they weighted heavily on my wrists until they became a proper pair of pasterns. The feathers that sprouted tickled against my chest. And the smells! The whole meadow seemed to seep through my nostrils and into my chest in one go. It felt ... liberating, I suppose. I breathed again.

And again.

And again.

By the time I was done really giving my back a proper roll in the grass, I didn’t have hands anymore.

Or feet.

Or ... very much of anything human, really. I felt ... different is the best way I can describe it. I wasn’t exactly shocked. It was like I was ... muted to an extent. And maybe I was. Maybe the apples had something to do with what was going on.

I remember rolling to my front and jumping up on all fours. The ground didn’t shake, but I could feel the sheer weight of my body as I landed. I saw the huge muzzle that now protruded where my face had once been. And ... I was disoriented seeing things from such a wide view. I could see ... almost everything. My new tail swayed behind me to smack at the bugs that had started to gather. I looked ahead, and there Adras was, only ... shorter. The two of us were a lot closer in height now. It hurt when he came closer. His body got blurry. If it weren’t for his voice and the smell of apples, I think I would’ve bolted then and there.

“Yup, you’re definitely gonna be a stud.” He patted my shoulder. There was no pain or pressure this time. My legs took the weight. My hooves channeled the vibration, what little I felt, into the ground. I nickered in discomfort, and he ... I guess he smiled? Maybe? He sounded apologetic, at least. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Can’t really focus too well up close, can you?”

My lips curled against my will as he ran his hands over my head and down my nose. It felt ... very soothing.

“No need to worry, though. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?” he prompted. “We can just relax and be ourselves.”

My gut churned. My eyes hooded as I stared into the blur and just ... let things go. I suppose that’s when my pupils would have adapted, gotten that blurry rectangle we’re supposed to have. When I came to, I felt ... relieved. A new smell that was and yet wasn’t familiar wafted into my nose.

Again came the pat and the praise.

This time. it wasn’t an apple that I got, but something else he put against my lips. The flappers seized the thing immediately, and my mouth came alive with an explosion of pure delight, followed by an intense rush of awareness. Before I could stop myself, I was nosing Adras. I wanted more.

The bull man chuckled. “Easy there, Champ.”

I nickered in annoyance and nosed him again. He knew what I wanted. And i knew he could understand me. He looked at me critically, then frowned as he bent to look beneath me.

“Still got a little of the old you left, huh?” He frowned. “Not gonna stud like that.”

I looked inquiringly at him. My body language was more than enough to ask with how my ears twitched and my head cocked to the side.

He chuckled. “Don’t you worry none. You’ll grow into it soon enough. Just need a nice mare to get to know.”

“Mare?” The word was choked out of vocal cords that really didn’t want to speak like a human.

“Big stud like you’s gotta get all that mass from somewhere, you know.” He chuckled again. Then he was stroking my chin, my throat, my head behind the ears. I couldn’t help but shudder and enjoy.

Next time I spoke, I couldn’t make a single human sound. “Why do I feel so okay with this?” That’s what I’d wanted to say, at least. The question seemed to translate.

“Because you’re a horse.”

“But I’m not.”

He shrugged. “Sure y’are. Had you pegged the minute you trotted to the fence. You’re one of the biggest Clydesdales I ever did see. You must’ve been a hard worker back in that there city. Now you can help in the fields and the trees. Could always use another set of hooves at the plow.”

I couldn’t shrug, so I tossed my mane instead and sputtered. That didn’t sound so bad, really. The more he talked about it, the more I found myself liking the idea. Something about his voice, I think. It’s just so ... casual, relaxing. It just sort of gets in there and sticks. And boy, did I take to it like a champ. I guess you could say I was born for it, big Puka like me.

I still remember the day I gave up the last of my humanity. As usual, Adras was right. And Admentos wanted to reward me for the help I’d given. Turns out Admentos is the real leader of the herd. Thunder was just jealous and trying to protect his claims and privileges. But his breed wasn’t the only one that needed to be reproduced.

The first time, I was overwhelmed by the experience. That mare got in whiffing distance, and my whole body lit up. You’ve heard the phrase about balls dropping before. This was swelling, then dropping, and finally knocking it out of the park.

I felt different after that. I could still recall things about my old home, but ... they didn’t seem so important to me anymore. My essence, my being, that had been left behind in the city. I was something, someone different. My old name is long gone. I ... think Admentos might have taken it, but I don’t mind. I like being Champ. Things are simple here, and I like it simple. I graze when I’m hungry. I drink when I’m thirsty. I work when I’m called, and I mate when I feel the need. With the mare’s consent, of course. I’m not a monster.

Adras and I still chat from time to time at the fence, and he always has an apple ready for me. Sometimes, we make a contest of seeing who can plow their patch of land faster. There are times where he asks why I don’t try walking on two legs again or taking a form like Admentos, but honestly, I don’t really want to. I’m faster and stronger this way. That’s enough for me.

Have I seen the gate since? I can’t say that I have. I think ... maybe it only appears when a new member of the herd is ready to join us. But what do I know? I’m just a humble work horse. Home is the meadow with the herd, running free in the wind, playing with the others, caring for the mares and foals. Sometimes, we sleep in stalls. But no matter where we are, the herd is never too far apart.

I dream of the old place some nights, the old life, that gate, the room where I used to sleep on the short rough grass and the hay bales that creaked under my weight. There is no fresh breeze there. And it is tight, confined. There is no room to run or move. I would need to be blindfolded and led to keep from bucking my way out. As I said, I do not like that closed sensation. How humans can bear it, I will never understand.

It is far better to be a horse.

Far better to live in the wild and the open.

You’ll see soon enough, if you haven’t already begun to.

Trust me, colt. You’ll soon wonder if you were ever human in the first place.

Now, then, what was that name of yours again? Ah, yes....