FSE

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My eyes instinctively open. For a while, it's all thoughtless sensations. My ass is stretched and raw, throbbing and burning with cum. My fur's matted and sticky on my chest, ass, face: pretty much everywhere. Appendages of worn-out dog-men sprawl all over me: I can feel a certain husky's enormous erection pressing up against my rear as I lay on my side, my snout buried into the crotch of our host golden retriever while my recently-acquired doggy cock threatens to jab a hugely muscular pit bull in the muzzle, his big rough tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Memories start flooding back. Last night was wild, in at least a couple of ways: my virginity card got punched so many times it's just confetti, and in exchange I got a new collar, name and body. It's still me on the inside, although my sense of "me" has changed. This feels like what's normal now: being furry and horny for hot guys.

Then I remember why my body's woken up. I almost scream in the cold horror, managing just in time to keep my muzzle clamped as I squirm out of the dogpile.

Dad's going to kill me.

Assuming Mum doesn't do it first.

I didn't mean to stay out the whole night. I didn't call home. I didn't do any of the responsible-person things. God, what if they called the police to go and look for me?

My heart starts to race, my mind frantic as I try to extricate myself. How do I turn myself back? What if I can't in time? My padded feet land on the floor, my arms trembling as I try to remember where exactly I left my clothes. Fuck, I wonder how many messages they left last night?

I hear a deep grunt, just before I'm about to stumble out the door in my confused pacing. My head turns around; the big, brown muscular pit bull is pulling himself out of bed. I must have woken him up. He looks at me, a grin appearing on his muzzle. "I thought I was the only one who'd be up this time of morning."

Almost immediately, I look at his crotch as he gets up, the mass of muscles that make up his body stretching in seeming deliberateness, his hips sliding forward as his red canine shaft emerges. I can already smell his musk; my own cock responds, sliding back out.

I moan. I stutter. "I - I need - I need to get home. My parents..." I squirm. "I'm supposed to work on the farm."

"No time for a quickie before you leave?" Rex asks, resting his hands on his butt as he wriggles the kinks out of his post-sleep body.

My body burns; if I wasn't so panicked about everything, I probably would've jumped him right there. Nervously, I tap my feet: with the padding, they're kind of oddly springy. I shake my head a little, trying to focus again. It's hard for my mind not to wander, especially with Rex's scent growing stronger as he gets closer. His body's huge: I'd seen similar - without the canine features, obviously - and there was something appealing about submitting to a big strong guy. Or, as I found last night, having him submit to you.

"Don't worry," Rex smiles, coming over and giving me a hug. "As much as I'd like some one-on-one time with you, I've got to get going too. Anything I can do to help?"

"How do I turn back?" I ask. "Where did I leave my clothes?"

"I'll get them for you," he offers, his meaty hands patting me on the shoulders. He crouches down, shoving his nose into my crotch and taking a big whiff. "Why don't you shower off a bit? You're all nervous and excited, and you need to think about something else for a while and calm down. Whatever you need to do, five more minutes aren't going to hurt, right?"

"I guess not." I smile as he stands back up, patting my head. I stare at his bulging pectorals for a few seconds too long, and he grins and turns my head in the direction of the en suite bathroom.

"There you go." He slaps me on the butt to get going. "Get moving."

I walk in, a huge shower welcoming me. Gratefully, I get in, closing the door behind me. I look at myself in the mirror, matted black and white fur plastered over my slender half-canine, half-human frame. My collar looks nice around my neck; I take a break from admiring myself to turn on the water, letting the shower heat up as I glance at the very red, throbbing cock pushing out of my sheath.

Climbing into the shower, I seal myself off and let the hot water roll through my fur. I yawn; last night had been very exhausting, and I still felt drained. The shower seemed to help though. Fortunately Rex - who, if I remember correctly is the guy who actually runs the household even though Hunter owns it - knows to keep the shower well-stocked with shampoo for all the times he or one of the others needs to bathe while furry. The shower seems quite customised too: the drain doesn't get clogged up despite all the loose dog fur and cum that comes off me as I soap and scrub down my body. Memories of washing pet dogs of the past come to me as I start soaping up my tail.

I'm used to showering quickly - I usually need at least a couple per day, more if it's especially hot or the chores I'm doing especially dirty - and once I turn off the water and start towelling myself off as best as I can, a sense of urgency starts building up inside me. Drying takes a lot longer, but I'm definitely feeling better by the time I get out.

There's two piles of clothes waiting for me when I get out: the nice clothes I'd been wearing last night, and some that look at least a couple of sizes too big. Rex, standing by the door, waves his paw at me, and I creep over, one pile under each arm. "Take your clothes with you," he mutters quietly, pointing to one pile. "Put on these other ones; they're a little loose, but it should give you more fur and tail room."

"Thank you."

"'Sides, it'll give you the perfect excuse to come back soon." Rex is smirking as he reaches up, taking off my collar, taking it and my clothes off of me and putting them on the dresser as he heads out.

I dress quickly into the borrowed clothes, suddenly aware of a weird tingling over my body; I've been feeling it, at least a little bit, since I've woken up, but it's now more apparent. I hope it's because I'm turning back into a human being. I do my best to avoid doing anything that might stop it, or start it going the wrong way, turning my back to the still-sleeping bodies lying on the bed, or sniffing too much at the smells of old sex lingering around the room using my slowly-shrinking muzzle.

Dressed in a loose hoodie and some tracksuit pants, I creep barefoot downstairs. Although my human nose seems to be returning, some things seem to have been permanently altered: the smell of the sizzling sausages on the stove is very potent, and I lick my lips voluntarily as I peek around the corner.

Rex stands in front of the stove, stirring the sausages in the pan with a wooden spoon to keep them from burning in the oil. He's looking a little more human now: his muzzle isn't so prominent, his ears are smaller and I'd swear there was human skin visible around his face if I squinted a bit. Granted, he's got a lot less fur to lose in the transition back, and anything looks a little more human if you're wearing admittedly tight-fitting gym clothes and an apron, but it's a relief that it seems like you don't have to concentrate too much on turning human again.

"Smells good," I answer without thinking. I then bite my lip; I wasn't invited for breakfast. At least not unless I was willing to put myself on the menu. I shook my head: if anything's going to delay turning back to normal, it's going to be thinking about sex.

Rex turns to smile, his hand automatically shooting out to pick up a small plate. "I hope so; I made extra for you."

"You shouldn't have," I counter, trying to be polite. The sausage does smell good, and I'm probably to dog enough to hide my tail wagging a bit at the prospect. "The sooner I get going..."

"... the sooner you'll realise it was a bad idea to leave this early and get caught looking like a dog." Rex shoves the plate into my hand. "Eat, Farmboy; I'm assuming your dad's going to want you to get to work as soon as you get in, or something like that?"

"Assuming he doesn't kick my ass," I whine, slumping my butt on top of one of the stools beside the breakfast bar.

"Does he beat you?"

I catch a certain hint in Rex's voice. As flattered as I am that he's that protective of me already, I don't really want an angry dog-man pounding on my dad. My stupid lusty thoughts from yesterday about my dad resurface, and I shake my head until they go away. No way am I going to have that in my head while I'm eating a hot piece of phallic-shaped meat. "Oh, no, he'll probably yell at me for staying out at night with a bunch of strangers. It'll probably be a lot less awkward than with my mum. I'm more likely to die of embarrassment." I feel the blood rush to my face. Ugh. My mum's probably going to think I was having all sorts of gay sex last night. Probably not exactly the kind I was actually happening, but I'm already squirming with awkwardness.

"Well, it sounds like they care about you, which is something." Removing the apron, Rex removes a couple of the cooked sausages, putting them onto a table, covering the pan with a lid and turning off the heat. Sitting down next to me, he starts eating; I've already finished mine - after last night, I was starving - and my stomach's rumbling for more but I don't want to push anything. At least I don't start whimpering and putting my head in his crotch, begging for treats.

No, no. Need to keep calm.

"I think I'm safe to tell you that you're welcome back any time," Rex suggests. "I'll give you all our numbers, though, just to make sure that someone's home if you want to drop by." He snorts. "Besides, I wouldn't put it past those two to take more runs out that way from now on. You should definitely stop by; Hunter explains all the dog-man stuff better than I do, and that'll help."

"Yeah, definitely." My head's already spinning. I just realised what a big deal this all is. But immediate worries plague my mind. I pat myself over a bit: I'm still really hairy, but it's definitely going down, and my fingers - actual proper human fingers apart from the fur - are making touch with some normal skin. My back twitches; I think the fur is falling out of me pretty quickly now, because I feel something like a huge clump of hair slide down my back. Carefully probing my face, I can feel my muzzle's retreated even more. Nothing's in quite the right place yet, but I might be able to get away as one of those guys who grow hair over their whole body now, rather than what I actually am: a dog-man trying to fit back into human skin.

As promised, Rex goes to give me the phone numbers of Hunter, Rocket and himself. "Just introduce yourself as Farmboy," he explains. "Then we'll know it's you. I don't know everything like Hunter does, but one trick is to try to act normal. Well, the same way you would if you were a normal, one hundred percent human; at least when you're around other people. That'll keep you human. Sex might be a bit trickier, since it's a bit harder to control yourself, and that'd go double for a younger guy like you."

I blanch a little at the remark, but I can't really argue with him. "Thanks." I'm not sure what else I should say.

"You can stay around here if you like for a little bit," Rex mentions as he looks at his watch. "But I've got to get to work, so you might be alone until someone else gets up."

"No, I definitely should get going myself. Thanks, Rex." I feel an urge to call him a "good boy", but even just me thinking it starts making my skin prickle, so I hold it in.

We walk out to my car; I shake his hand - both of them looking more or less fully human now - and get into my car, chucking the clothes I wore into the passenger's seat. Taking a deep breath, I start the car and start driving.

My heart starts to race: every moment, I expect someone to suddenly drive past me and make a big deal. Thankfully, there's not really all that many people around this early, especially out here. Either that, or I missed the bubble. I pass a few trucks, and I'm sure a few people blink their eyes in confusion, but as I go I'm feeling a lot more confident, especially as my hands are practically free from fur, and there's very little tail sitting uncomfortably between me and the seat. I scratch my face, mostly to check, and while it's still pretty hairy, it's not unusually so.

I'm feeling almost good until the car comes to a halt.

I swear. Then swear some more. My hands slam the steering wheel a few times. Eventually, I start thinking about ways to figure out what's gone wrong. I check, and swear some more, the digesting sausage turning in my stomach. In my rush to get away last night, I forgot to fill up my car. The only bright side is that I'm not too far away from home; far enough that I'll be walking for a while, but not far enough that I couldn't walk. Releasing the brakes, I then go through the indignity of pushing the car along the narrow country road until I get to a spot where two cars can pass one another. Putting on the hazard light, and locking the doors, I then slink home with my tail between my legs.

It's a metaphorical tail, thankfully. With all the worrying about getting home, and the car, a quick pat down lets me know I should be able to pass for myself again. If there's any doggy bits left to my appearance, they're well hidden by the baggy clothes I borrowed.

Just when I'm leaping over the fence at the corner of my family's property, it starts to rain.

A futile grin stretches across my face. I yell at the sky, shaking my fists pointlessly at it as it pisses down on me. My shoes start to sink into the steadily softening ground of the field as I start to run. With the water trickling down my skin, I start to wonder if maybe the whole thing wasn't a bad idea. Yes, it was fun, but maybe God thought going to a dog-man orgy had been one sin too far for me. I haven't even dealt with my parents yet, either. Splashing a spray of mud with every footprint, my house looms thankfully closer.

My heart threatens to stop when I hear the rumble of a motor from somewhere, approaching rapidly. The quad bike rumbles to a stop, and Dad's voice turns my head. "Where the fuck have you been, boy?" he accuses. "Where's your car? Where are your clothes?" Him being angry with me looks almost comical, with his nose pointing out from underneath the wide hood of his raincoat, but I'm definitely not in a position to be laughing.

"On the side of the road," I answer, pointing vaguely in the right direction. "The car, and the clothes. "I ran out of petrol," I add sheepishly.

I hear him sigh. "Get inside and dry off, I'll go get your car. Your mother will want to know your okay." Revving the bike back into action, he turns to yell once more. "She was worried sick when you didn't come home last night. Maybe in between getting your ass fucked you should've called at some point." As my dad sped away, I feel mud spray all over me and the clothes I borrowed. Then it's my turn to sigh, and trudge, now soaked and muddy, up to the house.

Mum accosts me as soon as I open the door; I don't even have time to say high when she somehow teleports from whatever chore she was doing to stand right in front of me. "You stupid boy!" She slaps my face. Then she looks me all over, and rolls her eyes. "Oh for fuck's sake, get out of those clothes."

Immediately I start to worry, "Mum, I..."

"Do you think this is really a good time to be answering back?"

Sighing, I start to pull off the clothes: thankfully, I look to have gone more or less back to normal, and if anything is still off then Mum - continuing to yell and scream at me about every little thing I've done wrong in the past few days - bundles the dirty clothes off to the laundry. She's still yelling as I creep up the stairs.

Grabbing a towel, I head in for my second shower of the morning. Even though everything seems familiar, it actually feels stranger than it was at Hunter's place: it all seems to have a tinge of "you fucked up" and "now your parents know you're gay" and "the know you're having sex." Even over the shower - which, admittedly, is a lot quieter than the big one at Hunter's place - I can here Mum's anger at me. I quickly get out of the shower and get dressed to do whatever chores my dad's got in store for me today.

I'm exceedingly hungry as I slink back down the stairs. My mum immediately accosts me, my collar in her hand. I really hope I'm not flushing in embarrassment. "What was this doing in your pocket?" she accuses.

"It's for, uh, the dog," I mumble, mixing up lies with truth. "The guy I went to see last night loves them. I borrowed some clothes he had at his place."

I'm thankfully saved from any further awkwardness by my dad's return with my car. The front door creaks open as I hear him trying to remove his boots and raincoat before coming inside. I glance outside the window, breathing a relieved sigh when I see the bike tied behind my car; at least he wasn't vindictive enough to make me walk back to pick that up.

Mum asks, "Did they feed you at least?"

"I did have a sausage for breakfast, but I'm pretty hungry still," I answer.

After that, it gets awkwardly silent, as Mum cooks breakfast and Dad reads the newspaper. After all the interrogation I got earlier from each of them separately, I was expecting them to team up on me, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen. With it so quiet, I quickly wolf down the scrambled eggs mum makes. I finally break the silence. "I'll go get the mail." I push the chair back, rinse off my plate in the sink, and head outside.

I close the door behind me - the rain's picked up, and I don't want to add to my list of crimes by getting the inside of the house soaking wet - as I pull on my raincoat. My heightened hearing perks my ears up; it seems like my parents had become the living embodiment of "two's a company, three's a crowd".

"He had a collar in his pocket!" Mum says, slamming it down on the table.

"So?" Dad grunts, the paper rustling in his hands as he turns the page. "It's not really his pocket, is it?"

"Yes, but what if it's his." Even outside, with the pitter-patter of the rain on my raincoat, I can hear the inflection in her voice.

"You're reading too much into things," Dad answers. "They're not all going to be into kinky fetish stuff, are they?"

I'm trying not to laugh as I start walking away from the house. I'm not sure what's more absurd: my Dad being reasonable or maybe just wanting to be in denial, or my parents arguing over what fetishes I've got.

My phone buzzes in my pocket when I reach the mailbox, but it's too wet to check just yet. My phone usually does buzz when I'm this close to the road, since there's better reception. It's one of the reasons why I like coming down to get the mail. Shoving my phone into the mailbox - which turns out to be empty - I check the messages.

It's from Rex.

"Couple of cute guys here this morning. What do u think?"

There's a picture accompanying the message, of two hot guys in wrestling singlets that don't leave much to the imagination. My whole body feels hot for a moment. I feel a strong prickling sensation running over my skin. A bit of warm drool runs off my tongue as I lick my lips. Suddenly everything from last night is rolling over me, threatening to spill out of my skin at a moment's notice. I start panting as I start getting erect.

I quickly close my phone. This isn't the time for this.

I pull off the head of my raincoat and stand, letting the rain cool me down for a moment. It slides down my face, which I can feel has gotten furrier from just standing here ogling guys on my phone. Letting myself cool down enough for my fur to disappear, I head back home.

By the time I get back, Mum and Dad have finished talking about me, and the rain's stopped so things are looking slightly better for me. Dad's busy untying the quad bike, glancing over his shoulder while he hears me walking up to the house. He looks at me, and I announce, "No mail today."

"Took you long enough," he mutters, going back to loosening the rope. "Your mum's going to throw a fit if you're going to walk around getting your head wet."

I sigh, "She's already throwing a fit at me, it's not like it's going to get any worse."

Dad laughs. "Next time you go out, boy, just remember to call her." He pauses. "Even if you're, um, on a date or whatever." It's easy to translate from awkward Dad speak: even if you've got a guy's dick in your ass, call your Mum and let her know you're okay. "Or not," Dad chuckles some more, "I don't mind having her on your case rather than mine."

I laugh at that one. "No way, you're always top on her list to cop it."

Dad helps me finish up the fence. He claims it's because I'm a lazy ass kid who can't get things done, but I can kind of tell there's something else going on. The only thing that's changed between yesterday and today was that I popped my cherry in a gay foursome and became a secret dog-man.

No big thing.

But Dad didn't know most of that, so I was just wondering why exactly he was sticking around. Unless it required more than one person, I've been doing my chores alone for ages, so I know he trusts me with them. Finally, he just comes out and says it, when we're done with the fence and heading back home for lunch.

"Don't do that again," he says matter-of-factly.

My face suddenly feels very hot. Actually, my whole body feels very hot. I'm suddenly mad. "I'm gay, Dad," I find myself blurting out, my hands balling into fists. "I'm going to go out and f-" I catch myself just in time, quickly changing what I'm going to say, "-fucking have dates with other men."

Dad glares at me, like he's actually going to hit me. "You might be old enough to go out and fuck or get fucked or whatever you want, boy," he says disparagingly, "but I'll fucking kick your ass if you upset your mother like you did last night. She was worried sick. She barely slept a wink last night. If you're going to spend all night out again, I don't want you coming in the next morning!"

Holy shit. I've never seen Dad this mad before. Suddenly, it occurs to me. It wasn't just Mum up all night worrying about me. I squirm, my ears wanting to droop. "I - I'm sorry, Dad," I apologise. "I guess I just got, uh, caught up with stuff. I won't do it again, I promise."

"You better not, boy," Dad growls.

Thankfully, having food in front of you when you're tired and hungry tends to distract you from family drama. Mum seems to have calmed down, at least. Which is actually worse, because she starts asking me exactly what I got up to on my date last night.

"It wasn't a date as such," I mumble, grabbing one of the sandwiches on my table and shoving it in my mouth. I need to buy time, as well as try to keep calm. Thinking about last night dredges up a lot of the same feelings, and there are things other than having sex with three other guys that I don't think I want to bring up with my parents, just yet anyway. "Well, I guess it was kind of, more of a double date. We were at his friend's house with him and his, uh, boyfriend I guess." I distract them all by describing Hunter, Rex and Rocket's human sides, and what I learned about them during the pillow talk. I talk about how I met Rocket when he was running past the house this morning, and that he came that day to bring back a wallet he thought I dropped. Then I summarise the orgy in as G-rated a way as I can. "We just hung out at Hunter's house, which is really fancy. We had a good time, and I guess I got caught up with stuff. It was really late, and I was too tired to drive, so they let me stay the night."

Dad doesn't say much. I start to wonder if maybe Mum is just asking me all these questions to piss him off. I push my chair back, getting up from the table. "Is it okay if I have a nap?" I ask, my face blushing, "I kind of stayed up late last night."

I don't really, but I need an excuse to get some privacy for a few minutes.

Dad shrugs. Mum says, "It's fine, dear, you go rest."

I thank her as I pick up my plate, washing it. I hope they think it's because I'm feeling bad - which I am - but it's mostly so I can find where Mum put my collar. I spot it on the pile of borrowed clothes she finished cleaning. I head up the stairs, sneaking it into my pocket as I walk past.

I put it on as I walk upstairs. Straight away I feel the fur creeping up my chest as my cock swells and starts to change underneath my clothes. My heart's pounding in my chest, my head unable to clear. My ears prick up; Dad says, "Actually, I think I'm going to take a nap too." I hear Mum laugh, and Dad ask her "What?" as I hear his footfalls walk down the stairs.

It would not be a good idea to do this in the house; my face is blushing hard because I'm pretty sure my mum knows what I'm going to get up to, but even if she's decent and leaves me to it, there'll be a lot more to explain than some sticky stains on my bedsheets. Lumping up my recently-made bed - sorry Mum - I slide open my window and skulk across to the sheep shed.

My hands shake as I push open the door. I sniff; it was only yesterday here when I'd gotten my first taste of real sex, and being here seemed to hasten my change. I quickly strip off; another cloud of heavy rain sweeps in, the sound comforting because it means nobody's going to want to start poking around here for a while.

Changing seems faster: by the time my clothes are in a bundle on my feet, my ass planted on there and my cock in my hand, the fur has spread over most of my body. It's still short, but it's there and it's changing how I smell. I lean back, stroking the growing fur on my chest with my hand as the other squeezes the red, dripping flesh that's poking prominently out of my sheath. My fingers curl around with it - I get a quick look at the flash of black claws forming on their ends - and pull down to rest my hand on where my knot will eventually pop out.

I pull my phone out, propping it up on the corner of the wool bags so it doesn't fall through the gaps in the ground into the big piles of old sheep shit that I can smell down beneath me. My face tingles; I can almost feel my muzzle growing as my hand slides back up the length of my cock. Taking a break from giving myself comforting pets, I pull up the picture of the two young guys Rex sent me earlier. I lick my lips, my mind buzzing with possibilities.

Feeling my precum drip along my slick cock, I feel a dull growl growing in my throat. My mind imagines me watching the two wrestlers in the ring, slowly turning into dog-men along with the rest of the crowd. My eyes are drawn to their bulges, rubbing up against each other as they fight each other in the ring; I can almost smell their scents as they struggle to try to get the other out of their wrestling singlets first. Rex is there, watching over the two: his cock is the prize their fighting for. Rocket, Hunter and I are watching from the stands, licking our lips as we enjoy the show.

"Ungh!" I lean back, my fur protecting me from the worst bits of the dirty, uneven floor. My cock squirts out a bit more precum, which drips down into my fur like warm honey. It all comes crashing back into me: coming in here with Rocket, then going back to Hunter's place for even more. Feeling other guys' cocks in my hand, my mouth and my ass; enjoying being groped and fondled, sucked on and the slow sinking of my dick into their holes; I know how it all feels, and my brain is more than willing to replay those feelings for me as I seem to go quite quickly through my transformation.

I pull my long tongue out of my growing muzzle, using it to touch my changing nose as I resume petting my own chest. My tail swishes from side to side as it continues to creep out of me, not quite at its full length. Gravity keeps my ears from flopping over as I lean my head back, enjoying the warmth flowing over me that comes from turning into a dog-man while jerking off when the rain is bucketing down.

Curling up briefly, I grab my phone. I don't need the stimulation, and I can't do what I'd really like to do - text one of the others to talk about what they're up to, and more importantly what I'm up to - but I decide a few pictures might be fun to give to them later. Working a phone with more paw-like hands is a bit awkward, and it comes out a little blurry, but I hopefully get a few good pictures off before the need has me leave my phone to my side. I grab my cock with both hands, enjoying the extra jolt that comes from being stimulated even further.

Twitching, my nose conjures up my favourite scents from yesterday and early this morning: four very hot dog-men writhing and panting in a big pile, embracing each other as our cum mixes together, the smell of it mingling with the strong masculine dog odours emanating from our bodies, each unique but equally appealing. I make an impressive whine as my knot pops out; my more tired hand moves from pumping my shaft to giving it a nice squeeze, my fingers making an artificial hole to fuck.

The name tag on my collar tingles as my body slides harder against the floor, my body gyrating. It doesn't take much longer, thankfully as I don't know - and kind of don't care - about how long it's going to take to turn back after I'm done. Opening my mouth, I let out a sigh as I feel myself about to ejaculate. It's interrupted as the pressure that's been building up in my body explodes the first shot right into my mouth. The next few shots don't go quite as far, but most of my chest quickly becomes a hot, sticky mess. Soon enough I can just let my cock do its work unaided; I let go of my dick, wiping my hands off on my fur, before grabbing my camera and getting a couple more post-orgasm pictures.

I stretch and roll up; my fur keeps my cum sticking to me mostly. The rain seems to call to me; I head out the door cautiously, and stand in the heavy shower that buckets down, my hand running over my warm, sticky body as I clean myself off as best I can. It's certainly not as good as the shower at Hunter's place - or the tongues of three dog-men, but it's definitely invigorating.

Taking off the collar, I slink back inside and throw it over to my clothes, before shaking off some of the excess water that's on my fur. I could actually do with a nap now, I decide; I take down one of the wool bags and sprawl on it, waiting for my heart to stop racing. Worries about being caught looking like this seem to blur into the fog that's filling my head. My sharp canine teeth bare slightly as I yawn; I pull my clothes together into a makeshift pillow and let myself catch some sleep.