FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"I swear I checked the weather report!" Brandon threw up his hands in a mix of frustration and annoyance, getting more than a little irked by his best friend's disgusted scowl. "You think I wanted to get half drowned and lose all my stuff?"

"All OUR stuff." Jim sat on a fallen tree stump, arms wrapped around himself as he shivered slightly in the early morning chill. They were both still wet from the flash-flood that had carried away their tent, sleeping bags, backpacks, and more immediately concerning, clothes. While he and Brandon weren't exactly lovers, they did enjoy a lot of casual sex together and last night had been no exception. When the wave of muddy water cascaded through their campsite, the two young men had been sleeping in a tangled, naked mess. Now they were untangled, but still naked and streaked with mud and leaves. "Shit, Brandon, what are we gonna do? My car keys, cell phone, our wallets... we're naked and alone 20 miles from nothing."

Brandon looked down into the ravine that still had a small river tumbling through it. He shivered, not only from the cold. The two of them had stuck together even in panic, helping each other escape the terrifying rush of water. It was as close to dying as he ever wanted to get. "We're alive." It wasn't much of an answer, but that pretty much summed up his reaction.

Jim stared at him a moment, and then sagged, a faint grin replacing the scowl. "Yeah, I guess that does count for something. And except for some bumps and bruises, I think I'm OK. What about you? You still look about as ugly as ever."

"Fuck you!" Brandon grinned. Far from ugly, the black-haired and blue-eyed young man caught the attention of most girls and not a few guys. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome, with a nicely muscled build and a generally happy disposition.

"You already did. Last night." Jim was about the same height, but their similarity ended there. Skinny and gawky looking even in his mid-twenties, James Joshua O'Malley was a beanpole Irish redhead whose pale skin was universally freckled. Where Brandon had gotten partial scholarships for football and track, Jim had been assisted by a 4.0 grade point average. However, that 'partial' coverage had led both of them to look for part time jobs to cover the rest. Night shift at the local WalMart had met both their needs, and friendship came soon afterwards. Their sexual connection took a while longer, both scared to reveal an interest in the other.

Brandon leaned down suddenly and scooped up a handful of mud that splatted on Jim's chest a moment later. That triggered an impromptu mud fight that left them both even filthier and laughing so hard they had tears running down their cheeks. The laughter was cut off abruptly, however, when they were both hit with mud coming from off to the left.

Startled, they spun around and saw a naked, filthy kid grinning at them. Obviously a boy, he had a tangle of matted brown hair that fell to his shoulders and the brightest blue eyes either had ever seen. There was a dark cast to his tanned skin that became nearly black on his feet and hands - long-encrusted dirt. Where Jim and Brandon were muddy, this kid looked like he had never bathed in his life. Yet he also looked very healthy, happy, and perfectly natural standing here in the woods. Not to mention remarkably well hung.

Both campers flushed and looked away, automatically crouching and covering their own nether regions. Jim managed to stammer out a greeting. "Uh, sorry. We were camping last night and got caught by a flash flood. All our clothes got washed away."

The boy looked puzzled at first, but then laughed. "I don't care about that. I never wore clothes!" He stared quizzically at Jim, and then Brandon. "You don't belong here in the woods. Whatcha come here for?"

"Camping." Jim kept having to look away from the kid, whose rather generous endowments were as much embarrassing for being bigger than his own as the overall inappropriate exposure. "We were camping further up."

"And when the rain came you guys were together, naked." The boy grinned even wider as both young men's cheeks turned red under the mud streaks. "You folks are so weird about sex. Nothin's more fun, and nothin' gets you more anxious and twisted up inside."

Brandon gave Jim an incredulous look, then directed his gaze to the boy. "I take it you don't have a problem with two guys, uh, being together?"

"Be sorta bad if I did." The kid patted his crotch. "I like it both ways. Anyway, here in the woods nobody cares 'bout stuff like that."

Jim blinked, trying to process that. "Um, do you live out here? Where's your family?"

"Not here." The boy squatted and stuck his fingers in the muddy ground. "Just visiting. Any place there are forests." He wrinkled his nose. "Getting hard to find land that you folks haven't stripped bare. Cities and roads. Human anthills."

"Um, so does your family live in the woods? Like some sort of commune?" Brandon looked around, feeling very self-conscious. "Um, they might not like to see us talking to you."

The boy snorted. "Communes? Those folks were a joke. Most of them brought all the stuff from the cities, the radios, and TVs and tools. 'bout the only thing they did right was sex. No worries, no commitments, just enjoying each other. That helped a lot afterwards."

There was a brief silence as the two young men stared at each other in confusion. Brandon finally tried a change of topic. "Uh, we're going to need to find some clothes, and then figure out how to get back to the..." He froze suddenly, eyes wide as a huge, antlered head pushed into the small clearing behind the kid. "Oh, shit. There's a stag behind you. Move real slow, don't startle him."

The boy looked back and grinned, and turned to walk back to the animal. The stag dropped its head to nuzzle his head, appearing totally relaxed. "He's friendly. Just curious about you two." The kid patted the animal's neck. "Or maybe hoping to stake a claim." He chuckled and looked up at the stag. "Getting greedy, aren't you, Act? If I remember right, you got that whole family last year."

In response, the stag jerked its head up and turned to stalk off in what almost looked like an indignant huff. "Sore loser." The boy watched it leave, then turned abruptly. "But I guess we do need to get you two taken care of. Sorta chilly if you're used to covering everything up all the time. Come on. We'll find something good." He gestured to follow, and headed into forest.

Although they were both bewildered, neither Jim nor Brandon were ready to lose the only connection to possible rescue they'd found so far. Brandon called after him. "Hey! Wait up! We don't have shoes, remember."

Their guide stopped and lifted a leg to show his own bare, filthy foot, then continued on at a brisk walk.

"Tell me this isn't fucked up." Jim spoke quietly. "At least he doesn't have a banjo."

It took Brandon a moment to make the connection, and then he had to stifle a laugh. "Wrong part of the country for 'Deliverance.' But you know, you do have a right purty mouth."

"I'm having enough trouble keeping myself distracted. You aren't helping."

"Jealous?" Brandon smirked and jerked his head towards the kid. "I know I am. What do you think he'll have by the time he's our age?"

The redhead flushed. "Cut it out. He'll hear you."

"Makes me wish I was back in Junior High." Brandon waggled his eyebrows. "HIS junior high."

"Stop it!" Jim punched his arm. "We're already got a lot of explaining to do. You want to get hauled off for child molestation?"

"For pities sake, lighten up!" Brandon rolled his eyes. "You think I'd really do anything with a kid? Well, unless I was a kid, too." He grinned at Charlie's glare. "Anyway, I know all about you and your size fetish. You'd give anything to be hung like a horse. You can't tell me you aren't doing some window shopping."

Jim clenched his teeth. "Dammit! I'm trying not to think about it. Fuck, man. We're naked! And I'm getting a boner!"

His friend glanced down and grinned. "Getting? I'd say that's a pretty full fledged hard-on."

"Oh, fuck! Walk in front of me so he can't see!"

Brandon sighed. "I should feel insulted, but since you haven't noticed, I'm waving a flagpole too. What the Hell else can we do? You want to ask the kid to stop for a minute because we got hard-ons?"

Mortified, Jim looked towards the kid in question, and stopped dead. "Where is he?" Then his eyes widened as he took in more of their surroundings. "Where the fuck are we?"

Brandon frowned, not understanding the question until he also stopped and really looked. They were still in a forest, but it was totally different from the area they had been camping in. The thick layer of dead leaves and debris was missing, replaced by lush green grass that shouldn't be able to grow under the dense canopy of leaves overhead. Some of the trees did not look familiar, and there were brightly-colored flowers growing in scattered patches. The visual change was so startling that it took a moment for him to realize something else. "It's warm!"

Jim looked back the way they had come, but could see nothing familiar. How could they have not noticed the change? He flushed, realizing he'd been too focused on the problem between his legs. Even so, they hadn't been walking long enough to get more than a couple of miles. How could the terrain change so much? And the time. Peering through the leaves, he could see that the sun was already well in the sky, not just peeking over the horizon as it had been when they first saw the boy.

"Hey, guys!"

They both jerked towards the sound of the boy's voice. He was far enough away to be almost indistinct among the trees, waving to get their attention. Still bewildered by their surroundings, Brandon and Jim hurried to catch up. Hopefully this kid knew where he was going, because at the moment they were completely and hopelessly lost.

Fortunately, the boy waited for them. He was leaning against a tree with an amused expression on his face. Brandon was the first to come to an abrupt stop. Jim was slow on the uptake this time, finally seeing the very real-looking horns protruding from the boy's forehead. "What the...?"

Their guide chuckled and shook his head. "You aren't gonna let a couple little bumps scare you?" He straightened and walked over to them. Although he was a decade younger and more than a foot shorter than either of them, Jim and Brandon took an involuntary step back. The boy stopped and put his hands on his hips. "Then again, maybe you are." Then he turned to look up at Brandon with what could only be described as a sexual leer. "Welcome to my Junior High."

Brandon furred his brow for only a second before blinking and flushing scarlet. "Oh, shit! Look, kid, I was just talking. I wouldn't really..." He fumbled for words. "I didn't think you could hear us! I mean, I'd never..."

"Sure you would." The boy stepped closer, his eyes twinkling. "We just haven't got all the conditions right yet." Then without warning, he grabbed Brandon's still partially-erect penis.

Brandon's eyes popped wide open and he stumbled back in shock. The boy followed, an iron grip on Bandon's rapidly stiffening shaft. He saw Jim start to reach for the kid, to help pull him away, then stop and stare in slack-jawed amazement. "Let go of me!" Brandon stumbled again as the ground shifted under his feet. He must have stepped into a depression of some kind, because he was now eye to eye with the boy and had to look up to meet Jim's eyes. "Do something!" Then he froze at the sound of his own voice. It was thin and high pitched, a lot like...

Seeing the shocked expression on Jim's face, Brandon looked down at himself. The boy was still holding onto his penis, but the shaft had gotten smaller and thinner. Just like the rest of him. There was no way to be sure without a mirror, but Brandon was pretty sure the barely pubescent body he saw was the same one he'd had about ten years ago. When he was this boy's age.

There was a soft thud as Jim sat down hard, not quite completely out of it but pretty close. The boy didn't even give him so much as a glance, still giving Brandon a lecherous grin that looked out of place on his youthful features. "Now then. I think you said 'unless you were a kid, too." Then he winked. "And if it helps, you're the comparative child here. I'm way older than I look."

He used his free hand to pull Brandon towards him with surprising strength, pressing their mouths together in a kiss that was firm and full of tongue, but hardly erotic. He let Brandon pull away. "Aw, come on. You can do better than that. You've been the one 'window shopping' since you laid eyes on me. And now there's nothing wrong with it at all. Just a couple of kids playing around."

Brandon struggled to fight back hysteria, shivering in fear. "But I'm not really a kid! This is crazy!"

"I promise you, you are 14 years old. Exactly. It's no illusion, no trick. You haven't been drugged or hypnotized. Tell you what. Take a minute to explore yourself while I spend some time with your buddy. He looks like he could use some comforting." The boy gestured over to a small clearing. "Go on. There's a pool over there. Not a perfect mirror, but pretty good."

Overwhelmed and bewildered, Brandon actually did turn and stumble over in the indicated direction, falling to his knees on the soft grassy bank of a small, still pool. He recognized the boy staring back at him in amazement. Brandon Terrence Carmichael, second row, third seat of Miss Weston's Homeroom class at Winston Junior High.

Jim was also staring in amazement, his mind trying to process the rapid regression he'd just witnessed. Hell, he'd only met Brandon a couple of years ago. He had no idea what his friend had looked like as a kid. But he had no doubt that this was indeed a juvenile version of his friend. His mind raced, trying to find some logical, believable explanation. He blinked as Brandon turned away from the boy and walked unsteadily away. He was going to rise to follow, but realized the boy had turned towards him.

The horns were more pronounced, looking like those of a goat, and the bright blue eyes had flecks of gold in them. Jim stared, terrified and fascinated at the same time. He knew what a deer felt trapped in headlights now.

"It's OK." The boy grinned. "Look, if I wanted to hurt you, or do something terrible, I could have done it by now. Act would have loved to get a couple of new does to fuck. Even after a few thousand years he's still a horny bastard."

It seemed like deer in the headlights was a good analogy. Jim's brain was still slow to respond, confusion short-circuiting thoughts, but he had the distinct impression the kid was referring to him and Brandon as the does. A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead and his mouth felt suddenly dry.

After a moment, the kid sighed and squatted in front of Jim, a bemused expression on his face. "Sorry. I sometimes forget just how scary this can be to you folks. And I guess I got a little carried away. But damn, I never came across two naked guys before. It was just too good to resist." He reached out and wiped the sweat off Jim's face with gentle fingers. "Hey, you're gonna love this. I promise."

"Love what?" Jim's voice came out as a croak, his throat so tight he could barely breath. "Are you turning me into a kid, too?"

The boy grinned. "I could, but that's not right for you." He peered into Jim's eyes and stroked the young man's chin, then slid his fingers up the jaw line on either side to brush the backs of Jim's ears. The touch left a strange prickling sensation behind, combined with an oddly pleasant warmth. The boy's fingers traced Jim's brows and eyes, slid down the bridge of his nose to probe gently at each nostril, then brushed his lips and slid over the teeth exposed by Jim's still-open mouth.

The fear was fading now, though confusion still made it impossible to do more than stare blankly back into the now-golden eyes of the boy. They were hypnotic, the irises shifting, blurring, becoming rectangular instead of round. Animal's eyes.

"There, now. This is gonna be just perfect." The boy reached out with his other hand and started to rub Jim's penis and testicles. Despite everything that had happened, Jim's shaft was still rock hard, and he shivered at the gentle, warm caress. He flushed but made no effort to resist, arms hanging limply by his sides. Instead, he looked down at his crotch.

The erection arched up from its nest of red hair, his foreskin retracted below the swollen mushroom. It was impossible not to compare his very average sized cock to the far more impressive shaft pushing out from the boy's crotch. The skin there was very dark, nearly black, but Jim realized it wasn't dirt. He watched in fascination as the heavy cock emerged from a foreskin that was thickening and pulling up to the boy's belly.

"Yeah, you like big. Hung like a horse, huh?"

Jim blinked at the boy's words and looked back at his own male parts. Except... the normally pink skin of his cock was already a more golden color, as if he'd somehow stuck it in a tanning booth. It was more than just a darker coloring. His foreskin thickened and darkened even faster than the shaft, black spreading down over his testicles like ink spreading over inflating balloons.

The soft caress swirled around the mushroom cap of his cock, flattening it as if it were clay on a potter's wheel. Jim stared as his cock swelled larger, thicker, teased and shaped with a brush of fingertips here, and stroke there. Veins formed, thick and ropey, under the now mottled pink and black shaft that was no longer human. Well over a foot long and still growing, Jim had no trouble recognizing his throbbing new stallion's cock and balls that protruded obscenely from between his legs.

The boy leaned back and admired his handiwork. "That should keep you busy for a while. Let me go see our little friend by the pool. I promise I'll be back." He stood up and gave Jim a pat on the head, taking a moment to ruffle the hair along the center. "Oh, yeah. Perfect."

Jim barely noticed, mesmerized by the equine flare that was moving closer to his face. He licked his lips, vaguely surprised by how thick they felt, and then brought his hands up to give the throbbing penis a tentative stroke. God, it felt real. It smelled real. His nostrils flared, drinking in more scents than he had ever imagined, his ears twitching in anticipation.

Brandon was still staring at his reflection in the pool, but he'd gotten past the initial shock. Part of him was still telling him to run screaming, but most of him was fascinated. As impossible as it seemed, he had no doubt this was real. There was stuff he would never have remembered - zits on his forehead, the shaggy haircut he used to have back then. But he still stiffened when he felt hands on his shoulders.

The boy moved to stand in front of him, blocking Brandon's view of the reflection with an up close and personal view of the boy's cock and balls. Brandon blinked in confusion - they didn't belong to a boy. He was staring at the sexual parts of an animal, sheathed and swollen, the slick pink shaft unlike anything he had every seen before. He looked up at the boy's face, noting a thin growth of curly dark hair on his legs and belly, and the first wisps of a beard under his chin.

The boy didn't say anything. He stood there, the heavy sack of his testicles dropping lower and larger, filling Brandon's nostrils with a heavy musk. This was insane. Impossible. He leaned his head forward, lips an inch from that pulsing shaft. Then he closed his eyes and licked.

Jim was well past the licking stage. He had his lips around the huge flare, sucking and pulling the sensitive flesh with wild abandon. The tiny voice that had noted his mouth shouldn't have been able to accept that massive cock end, that his tongue was too big, his teeth were too flat, his lips far too thick and pliable, was drowned out by the sheer, intense pleasure. Pressure was building in his testicles, the sack stretched taught over two black oranges. He shuddered with each pull of his lips, nostrils sucking air that reeked of maleness. Fluid shot into his mouth, the first thin jets of pre as the main load built to eruption.

The heat had spread through his whole head and down his neck. And was running from his crotch out to his legs and butt. It was getting harder to stay kneeling, legs stiffening and pulling in odd ways, but he couldn't make himself stop the oral sex long enough to relieve the discomfort. It wouldn't take long now. His eyes were wide, but vision was a dark blur. The intense sexual need and satisfaction overloaded all of his senses. Pressure grew, almost painful in its intensity. His balls felt like they were going to burst any second. Jim jerked suddenly, orgasm arching his back just as the black and pink firehose erupted with a white gush. A loud, piercing whinny filled his ears as he convulsed, hands gripped around the immense shaft. The violence of the ejaculation threw him backwards, freeing his straining legs and leaving him gasping on the ground.

Brandon felt the hard prod of the boy's cock against the back of his throat, and bucked as his gag reflex kicked in. His face was buried in fur, his nose filled with a strong, rank animal musk that was almost intoxicating. The boy pulled back, easing the gagging sensation, only to thrust again and again. The sensation was awful and fantastic at the same time, the slick salt taste of pre, the feel of the hard shaft against his tongue and lips. His hands cupped furred buttocks, oddly sharp and deep, and his fingers pressed against an anus crusted with bits of dung. It was all animal, and Brandon didn't care.

The thrust were getting more frantic, harder and faster. The boy grabbed at his hair, making short, gasping bleats of pleasure. A muscle spasm twisted his legs, his head throbbed, the base of his spine ached, but they were all insignificant sensations compared to the intense desire. His own cock was rigid, his testicles pulsing. The boy yanked his head forward, impaling Brandon's mouth one last time, and then they both emptied themselves. Brandon's mouth was filled with a heavy, lumpy, slightly salty gush that spurted from the sides of his mouth while his own seed shot out between the boy's spindly, dark-furred legs to splatter on the surface of the water like jets of heavy cream. He heard a chorus of animals then, bleating goats and the scream of a horse, all joining the overwhelming barrage of sensations that left him gasping on his back.

It took a couple of minutes for Jim's vision to focus, and even then his vision was off. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes, only to find they weren't quite where he had expected them to be. As conscious thought returned, a lot of other things were off as well. What the hell had happened to his nose? A dark, heavy mass protruded out from his face under huge, wide-set eyes. His forehead seemed to have collapsed behind massive brows. He felt his mouth - incredible large, with lips that had strong muscles. His nostrils were enormous, and felt velvety to the touch even as they flared out with each labored breath.

He finally got the strength to sit up, and took a moment to lick the sticky strings of his own semen from his muzzle. The incredible horse cock was already sinking back into the black fleshy cave of his sheath, nestled between two deep, black-furred thighs. He stared at his legs. They now ended in massive hooves almost completely obscured by thick white feathering. From the waist down, he was a draft horse stallion. And, he realized, he was also draft horse from the neck up. Maybe not completely, but the sensation still rippling through his entire body indicated whatever was happening hadn't finished yet.

That should have frightened him, but the experience of transforming was too fascinating to deny. A growing sense of mass and strength was almost as intoxicating as the sexual pleasure. He recognized the general conformation and coloring of his legs. A Shire, the biggest breed of horses. Huge, powerful, magnificent animals. Yeah. He could go for that. A monster stallion, seven feet at the shoulders, more than a ton of horseflesh. Even as he thought that, his chest began to swell out, muscles forming and stretching over an expanding ribcage. Jim shivered in renewed pleasure, the pulling and twisting of internal organs and changing bones like a drawn-out orgasm, not as intense as the actual sexual blast, but still very potent.

"How do you like Junior High?"

Brandon blinked and propped himself up on his elbows. The boy was standing before him. Well, not a boy any more. Sure, he still had the features and build of a kid, but a dark goatee and thick eyebrows had matured the overall look quite a bit. And of course, he was goat from the waist down. A satyr. Or faun, depending on the literary reference. Brandon was amazed at how calmly he was taking all this in. He'd just dropped ten years and sucked off a satyr. And it was all good. Sure, there would be some issues when he got back home. Move back in with his parents? That would go over big. He managed a grin. "I think I wanna repeat a few times. I'm in no rush to graduate."

"No chance of that." The... boy? Satyr. The satyr offered Brandon a hand and helped him up to his hooves. He was startled by the inability to balance and stumbled forward. The satyr steadied him as he looked down in confusion and understood both the lack of balance and the satyr's comment. The fur on Brandon's legs was the same black as his hair, but other than that he was a twin to the creature holding him up.

"Oh! Wow." Brandon stared at his cloven hooves, glossy black instead of the creamy tan digits his new brother stood on. It also did not escape his notice that he sported equally impressive sexual equipment. "So, this is for real? I'm really a satyr?"

His brother grinned and nodded. "As real as it gets. Though with some practice, you'll be able to turn human like me. There's no going back, though."

Brandon managed a chuckle. "No, I can't see myself showing up for work like this. Man, I'm sure I'll freak out eventually, but for the moment I'm blown away!"

The other satyr looked past him and frowned. "Glad you are dealing with it OK, but we'd better make sure your buddy doesn't get too carried away."

Buddy? It took a moment for Brandon to remember Jim, and he twisted around to see where his friend was. There was no sign of the tall, skinny redhead he'd known for the past few years. Instead, there was a massive black horse-like creature, obviously male, staring at itself in fascination. It took a moment to realize that the huge animal was actually getting larger.

"That's Jim?" He almost whispered the words. Even a decade younger and half goat, Brandon figured he was still recognizable to anyone who knew him. This black mammoth didn't have a trace of Jim visible.

The satyr nodded. "Looks like he's more than a little fond of big horses. He's got it in his head that he wants to be a giant stallion. In another couple of minutes, that's exactly what he's gonna be."

Bandon watched the transformation continue, neck lengthening, muzzle extending, proportions gradually becoming less humanoid and more normal. "That's fuckin' awesome."

"Yeah. If you want a completely normal animal as a best friend."

"Huh?" Brandon turned to look at the satyr, but understood even before he mouthed the question. "Oh, shit!" He leapt towards the mountain of horseflesh. "Jim!! Stop it! You'll be a real horse! Not just the body!"

Jim heard a shout, and dimly recognized his own name. The interruption was annoying. He was so close now. The mass of his body had pulled him to his side, and he had to twist his neck and use one eye to watch his arms and hands thickening. Each heartbeat, each pulse of change brought him closer to the image of equine perfection that was now crystal clear in his mind. There was another shout, and a blow only vaguely felt against his side. "Jim!"

With effort, he tore his concentration away from the fading traces of humanity and focused on a small, odd-looking figure that was shouting his name, and other sounds. Jim flicked his ears, struggling to make sense of things. Unimportant things. His attention wavered, drifting back to the still incomplete transformation, but then he recognized the annoying creature. Brandon!

He rolled up awkwardly, still not completely formed, and snuffled at the goat-boy that had been his friend and occasional lover. Why was Brandon upset? He was yelling and hitting Jim. What was he yelling? Something about a horse. Jim was turning into a horse. That had to be obvious. There wasn't much left that wasn't already Shire. Yeah. The image sharpened even more, and he twisted his head to see a swollen hand, already fused into three fingers, merge into a dinner-plate-sized hoof to match his hind hooves.

Why wouldn't Brandon leave him alone? Jim snorted and tossed his head, laying his ears back in warning as his friend shouted and beat on him even more frantically. What was he trying to say? Horse. Be horse. Jim struggled to match up sounds to thought. Casting about with growing urgency, he discovered that cupboards of his brain were almost bare. Horse. Be horse. The strain was monumental, but realization finally came. He was turning into a horse. A real horse, not James Joshua O'Malley in a horse's body.

Even the cold blast of shock and fear wasn't enough to totally break the transformation's hold. Jim struggled to rise, to clear the black Shire's image from his thoughts. His remaining hand grew heavier, becoming a hoof as his arms completed the last twist and swelling into animal forelegs. He finally rolled and pushed himself up to stand on all fours, dwarfing the two satyrs as the final bits of the transformation played out. Jim screamed in his mind as the Shire settled in, trying to resist the enticing contentment, the lure of acceptance, the simple and pure awareness of a beast, focused on now. What was left to fight for anyway? The Shire was almost done, almost complete. Yet Jim stubbornly clung to one final vestige of his identity. Jim. His name was Jim. Brandon called him Jim. And Brandon was his friend. Every thought was an effort, building on each other like blocks of granite. They were heavy and hard to move, but Jim finally realized he'd rebuilt just enough of himself to stay sentient. The change was over, and though he was almost totally a horse in every way, he was still Jim.

"You still in there, buddy?" Brandon stroked the massive horse's side, unable to reach high enough to touch his neck. The Shire's sides were lathered in sweat as if he'd run for miles, and the powerful muscles of his legs quivered under glossy black hide. Shit. If this was what Jim wanted, that was OK. But Brandon was sure his friend hadn't realized what was really happening. He sighed and patted the horse sadly. Maybe he did want this. Brandon was happy as a satyr, which made no sense. They'd lost everything, their families, friends, and their whole world. And Brandon wouldn't go back even if he could. So what the fuck? If Jim was happy as an animal, more power to him. He was a pretty amazing animal.

Brandon looked over at his new brother as he started to move away, dimly aware that he already found walking on the tiny hooves easy. "So, what now?" Then he stopped and equine lips pulled and the back of his hair. The stallion snorted and pawed the ground, then nosed Brandon hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps. He looked up at the horse uncertainly. "Jim?"

The Shire paused a moment, but then gave an unmistakable affirmative nod.

"I'd say he survived the voyage. Maybe not much more than a smart horse, but it's him as a smart horse." The satyr grinned at them. "Pretty handy, actually. The main gathering of our kind is a long way off, and I wasn't looking forward to the walk."

Brandon felt a twinge of suspicion. "Did you intentionally turn him into a horse?"

The satyr shrugged. "The desire was there, at least for some of it. Maybe I did help it along a bit, but I don't see him complaining."

"True enough." Brandon rubbed one of Jim's tree-trunk-like legs. "Makes it sorta hard to enjoy each other, though. At least, like we used to."

"Oh, I don't know." The satyr started looking for a rock or log they could use as a mounting block. "After all, you still have hands. And what was that you said in the woods? He's got a right purty mouth!"

end