I closed my eyes, breathed, and reached for the presence in the back of my mind. The wolf was calm and patient, waiting.
Come on, I thought. Let’s show them.
The shift took me.
It hurt less this time. Still uncomfortable, bones cracking, muscles reforming, but manageable, familiar. Within moments, I was standing on four legs, my perspective changed, my senses heightened.
I opened my eyes. Three screams pierced the air.
“HOLY SHIT,” Margo yelled.
“OH MY GOD,” Jade screeched.
“WHAT THE FUCK,” Sloane added, because Sloane had never been one for creative cursing under pressure.
I made a sound, a huff that I hoped conveyed amusement. I padded toward them slowly, carefully, trying not to frighten them more than I already had.
Jade was the first to move. She reached out with a trembling hand and touched my fur.
“It’s real,” she breathed. “You’re real. This is actually happening.”
“You’re so soft,” Margo said, reaching out too. “Oh my god, you’re so fluffy.”
“Can you understand us?” Sloane asked. “Blink twice if you can understand us.”
I blinked twice. Then rolled my eyes, which was harder to do as a wolf but I managed.
“This is insane,” Sloane whispered. “This is absolutely insane.”
“I think I need to lie down.”
We spent the next hour adjusting to this new reality. I shifted back, clumsily, still getting the hang of it, and they peppered me with more questions.
By the end of the night, they’d accepted it. Not easily, and their worldviews had been fundamentally shattered, but they’d accepted it because that’s what friends did. They adjusted, adapted, poured more wine and made inappropriate jokes until everything felt slightly less insane.
“So when do we get to visit this other dimension?” Margo asked.
“Never,” I said firmly.
“But...”
“There’s a war happening. And also, no.”
Our lives were upside down. But at least they were upside down together.
***
Two months had passed when everything changed.
I woke up feeling worse than usual, the nausea stronger and the fatigue heavier than it had been in weeks. There was a heat building under my skin that I couldn’t explain. Not quite a fever, but close. Pulsing and wrong, burning me from the inside out.
I managed to make it to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and took one sip before my legs gave out and I crumpled to the floor, my back hitting the cabinets as the world spun around me.
Get up, I told myself. Get up, get up, get up.
I couldn’t. My limbs wouldn’t cooperate. My body felt foreign, wrong, out of my control.
My phone. Where was my phone? I fumbled for it, found it on the counter above me, managed to pull it down. My fingers were shaking so badly I could barely navigate the screen.
