The masks we wear, part one
#1 of Odds and Ends
Alrighty, thought I would take a break from all the serious story lines I have going and do something more light hearted for a change. I hope you will enjoy it.
As always, comments are appreciated and requested.
"Are you sure I can't convince you to come along?" I asked, and my girlfriend grinned at me, zipping up her travel bag.
"Devin, why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?" She replied and it was my turn to smile. "This is the one weekend that my friends and I all had free for the next year. I can't miss this."
"I know..." I said, hanging my head as if I were sad. "But this is tradition."
"I know love, I know." She said, giving me a kiss on the cheek and picking up her bag. "But somehow, opening weekend at the Renaissance Festival just doesn't compare to meeting up with my old friends. I will see you when I get back."
"Just you wait," I said, following her to the door. "I am gonna find something really special this year and then you will be sorry you missed it."
"I am sure I will." She said, smiling wider and walking out the door. "Bye."
"Bye." I replied, already starting to miss her. That was almost pathetic, even to me, but when we were apart, I missed everything about her. From her flowing blonde hair and bright green eyes with sapphire blue flecks to the easy smile that she wore when we were together.
We had been together for a little more than two years now, and those two years had been the best years of my life. The two of us had actually first met back in college, but we had only barely been acquaintances back then. Almost three years after we graduated, we had met up again working at the same company, and in the same area too. We reconnected working side by side together, and we had grown very close. It took almost ten months for me to work up the courage to ask her out. Not that I should have worried. When I had finally come out with it, she had said she had been getting tired of waiting for me to ask her. As it turned out, we shared almost every interest, including one I had just about given up hoping that my significant other would share. We were both furs, I a wolf, and she a fox. In fact, the only things that we differed on were our artistic interests. She was an artist, a very good one in fact and I loved to write, our talents complimenting each other quite nicely.
I was amazed at how quickly things had progressed between us. By the end of our third date, we were closer than most couples got by their third year. I hadn't exactly been lucky in the relationship department up until I met her, but certainly not through lack of trying. Every relationship I had ever had, had fallen apart after a couple of months, and after the first few occasions of putting my heart through the wringer, I had learned not to get my hopes up, or I thought I had. Until I had started dating Sarah, that is. Three dates in and I was hopelessly, head over heels, one hundred percent in love with her. And I had no doubt that she felt the same about me. We had moved in together after about three months and it had been fantastic. And, our intimate encounters had been...well, I had always hesitated to describe anyone's ability in the bedroom as 'out of this world', but she truly was. Of course, things had cooled in that department over the last year. It was an inevitability according to everyone I talked to, and truth be told, I didn't care much. Things had just sorta transitioned until we were closer than ever before, but we just didn't have sex all that often anymore.
At least this weekend I had something to take my mind off of her absence. The Colorado Renaissance Festival was an event that took place over eight weekends in the summer, and I had been going to opening weekend since I was about six years old. I never missed it. And I had a good group of friends that went with me every time too, including my older brother. We had a good time every year, even more so since they had started expanding the festival grounds. When I had been a kid, even though the festival had already been the size of a small town, including a jousting arena, and you could go one day and see everything. But for the last six years, the festival had gotten bigger every year, with new attractions and plenty of new stuff to experience. Now you needed about two days to experience everything, especially since even the old performing groups were still very enjoyable.
Shaking off the funk that had started to collect in my head, I went and dug my costume out of the closet. That was another tradition my friends and I had gotten into. Every year we dressed up in period-accurate clothes, and, in the early days, we had started with premade stuff, but now a lot of our stuff was homemade, usually made by us or our close friends. My costume was a renaissance cavalier, basically a mercenary swordsman. I had spent a great deal of my free time over the years shaping black leather and blue suede into armor, and I was very proud of my work. Grinning, I grabbed all of my stuff and headed out to meet up with my friends. This was always fun...
***
Stepping out of the small spice shop, I placed my wide-brimmed hat back on my head, ignoring the familiar tickle of the long white plume on the back of my neck. I couldn't help thinking that the weather today was oddly appropriate. The misty rain and cold temperatures matched my lonely mood, and oddly enough, it also matched the characteristic weather of England, where the festival was supposed to take place. I had split off from my friends soon after showing up at the festival, feeling more like walking alone than having company. But seeing a pair of girls dressed as belly dancers, practically running from shelter to shelter, both of them shivering and miserable in the low hanging mist, I shook such thoughts out of my head. At least I, with my leather armor over woven cotton clothing, was still warm, even in the rain and mist. Heck, even in a torrential downpour I would still be comfortable.
Tucking the small tins of exotic teas that I just bought into a pouch, I took a look around, trying to decide where to go next. It was right near the end of the day, and today had been a blast, as usual, cheering me up immensely. I had caught a trio of comedy shows and one of the jousts, not to mention finding some awesome shops. I had decided to wander the new shops today, which, as in previous years, had been built in a crescent outside the existing festival grounds in the off season. The variety of shops had been as interesting as ever. From smithies carrying medieval weapons and armor to the tea shop I had just left, to shops carrying ornaments of spun crystal, where I had to hold my rapier on its baldric against my chest or risk breaking things. My belt pouches were already bulging with purchases. I had birthdays and the winter holidays handled already for everybody I knew.
Looking around to ensure that no one was watching, I pulled off one of my leather gauntlets and uncovered my watch, checking the time. The festival would be closing for the day soon and I really should have started heading back to the entrance. I was supposed to meet up with my brother again there before we left. We had carpooled from the house we were staying at in Larkspur, the nearest town, and he wanted to get going as quick as we could after the festival closed for the day. Not that I blamed him of course. His costume was a complete set of dark green scale armor that he had made himself. It had taken him years to make the entire thing, and though it was some of the most unique armor I had ever seen, it also weighed a lot, more even than chainmail, since the scales were connected by chainmail rings. And, in this weather, he would be awfully miserable, even with the long cloak he had borrowed from me. The only thing worse would have been if it were hot and sunny, in which case the metallic scales actually could get hot enough to burn him. Turning back towards the entrance to the grounds, I started to take a step, and then paused in place. As I had turned, the mist had parted briefly, and something had caught my eye. I turned back, looking up the street between the two rows of shops. There, at the end of a side street, tucked back against the trees that bordered this end of the festival, was a shop, visible only briefly through the fog, and practically indistinguishable from all the shops around it. But something about it drew my interest, though what it was I couldn't tell. I had learned to trust my feelings in matters like this and they had yet to lead me astray.
'One look isn't gonna take too long.' I said to myself, and walked the other way, following my instincts. When I stood outside the shop, I paused a moment, looking up at the sign that hung over the doorway. It read 'Orlan's Oddments', a cleaver name that told me absolutely nothing about the shop's purpose. Even here, where fantasy, history and steam punk walked side by side, most shops had a name that said something about what could be found inside it. Shaking my head and cascading water droplets off the brim of my leather hat, I stepped up to the entrance and pushed through the curtains that kept the rain out of the doorway.
The inside of the shop was lit by old-style oil lamps, throwing odd, flickering shadows all over the place. It wasn't exactly dark inside, the lamps providing plenty of illumination, but something inside the shop made it seem dark and mysterious. The air was filled with the scent of incense, thin curls of scented smoke coming up from several places around the room, which already started to make me a little dizzy. Soft music was coming from somewhere, an eerie sounding mixture of flutes and harps that seemed to be everywhere at once. The combination of all those things made all the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, a cold shiver running down my back. What was more, the shop seemed to not have a specialty. Everything from ornaments and jewelry to weapons seemed to be for sale here. There were even bins full of herbs against one wall, though I didn't recognize a single one. There didn't seem to be anyone here, no customers or even a shopkeeper behind the counter, but still, it was intriguing enough of a shop for me to look around before I took my leave.
Ignoring the odd shiver and the dizziness, I took a moment to examine a beautiful longsword on a stand, set out before more weapons hanging on the wall. No two among the collection of weapons were alike and I was sorely tempted to purchase one of them. I had quite a collection of medieval weapons at home, but none nearly as fine as this one. Its blade looked to be of fine make, crafted of hand-folded steel, clearly forged in the medieval style. The hilt and pummel, both beautifully shaped in a dragon motif, fitted perfectly to the blade, marking it as a unique blade, not what weapons enthusiasts called a 'cookie-cutter' sword. 'Cookie-cutters' were blades made of components stamped out by a machine, essentially endless copies of the same sword. Unique blades were rare, and very beautiful, and consequently, very expensive as well. But this one didn't even have a price tag. In fact, nothing in the shop seemed to have one, and there was no price list pinned up anywhere in sight. I reached out carefully to lift the sword from its stand and one gauntleted hand had almost lifted the hilt when something finally happened to break the mysterious climate of the shop.
"Can I help you?" A voice said and I jumped, whirling around quickly, one hand instinctually grabbing the hilt of my sword, even though it had been cable tied into its scabbard at the entrance to the festival. An old man was suddenly standing behind me as if he had just appeared out of nowhere. He cocked his head to the side, considering me with an unreadable expression on his face. I forced my hand to let go of my sword and put my hand to my chest instead, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Sorry, you startled me." I exclaimed and he smiled slightly.
"No, I am sorry for sneaking up on you." He replied, turning back and walking to the counter, the dark green robes he was wearing rustling as he walked. He was dressed like an artist's usual conception of a wizard, even down to the rune covered walking staff he carried. I even recognized the runes as being ogham, the oldest known alphabet of the Celts, my ancestors. I didn't know enough gaelic to understand what was said on the staff, but it was very beautifully done, not only carved but charred into place. "I see my weapons have caught your interest, my young friend."
"Yes, they are very beautiful." I confirmed, watching the old man curiously. "I was just wondering what the prices were."
"That depends on what kind of person you are." He replied and I cocked my head the same way he had, confused. He turned to face me once more and I finally noticed details I had missed before when I had been startled. His robes weren't a plain forest green as I had thought. Under a dark green cloak, his actual robes were covered in fine embroidery, trees and leafy vines, all in shades of green, surrounding a twisting gaelic knot pattern over his heart, a symbol that looked very familiar, though I couldn't place where I had seen it before. But more startling was that while he looked old, his hair thin and white, his skin wrinkled with weight of many years, something in his eyes made him seem almost as young as I was. His blue eyes seemed perfectly clear, young and vital. He held out a hand to me, palm up, "If I may..."
I nodded hesitantly, giving him my gloved right hand. The old man took it, his grip surprisingly strong, and pulled my leather gauntlet off. He glanced down and then grinned at me. He held his right hand out so I could see the three thin silver rings he wore around his middle finger. Each band was inscribed with the thin lines of ogham runes, one word on each ring. The words were 'nature', 'knowledge' and 'truth' in gaelic, the three things loved by all druids. The rings were only worn by those who taught others about being a druid, and they were identical to those that I myself wore on my hand. I couldn't help but smile as well. It was rare to meet another druid, much less another teacher. We were so few in number that I hadn't even met another in my life. He released my hand and then motioned for me to follow him. And, oddly enough, I found nothing strange in doing so. The older druid led me to the back of the shop and through another curtain. The room I found myself in was similar to the one I had just left, only this time there was hardly a space that wasn't covered in some sort of growing plant.
"It is good to see another druid in my shop." The old man said, leaning his staff up against the wall. This room was lit with more oil lamps, but even more dimly than the main shop, and still, there was something in the air of this room, an odd energy that gave me goosebumps all over the place. And more, a funny sort of tingle, like static electricity, was crawling across my chest, seeming to center around the necklace I wore under my clothes. The necklace was a simple disc of thin silver, inscribed with a very old symbol, a symbol known only to those of my religion. And at once, I realized where I had seen the knot pattern on the older druid's robes. It matched exactly to my necklace.
Things seemed to be getting stranger by the moment as the old man moved around the table, heading for a set of shelves against the wall. As he passed me, I could have sworn a blaze of green light washed through the runes upon his staff, but when I looked again they were the same old black lines they had been before. Returning my attention to the old man, I watched him take down a beautifully carved wooden box from a high shelf. Turning back, he motioned me closer and I saw the same gaelic knot pattern on top of the box, but surrounding it were several more, ones I had never seen. He smiled and then opened the box, revealing a small crystalline sphere, perfectly shaped, without a single carving mark upon it, as if it had grown into that shape.
With a flourish, he lifted the sphere from the box, the reflections throwing bright swirls of light around the room. Holding the crystal up to a light that hung from the ceiling, he turned it in his hand, a swirl of color seeming to flash through it as he did so, though it could have only been some sort of odd optical effect from all the greenery. Then, with the same odd glint in his blue eyes, he held it out to me, cupping it gently in one hand and I could not help myself. My hand reached out slowly on its own volition and touched the crystal. In an instant, I felt an odd electric tingle surge up my arm as if I had stuck my finger in an electrical socket, and there was a sudden flash of brilliant green light from the sphere, making me shiver once more.
"What was that?" I asked, pulling back my hand in surprise, blinking in the wake of the flash. The old man pulled the crystal back and looked at it, regarding it contemplatively. The orb suddenly filled with a drifting mist, swirling with odd colors, all shades of blue and green, unguessable shapes appearing in it. He smiled once more, then set the crystal back into its box, the odd mist fading into nothingness.
"I see..." He said, seemingly to himself, his smile getting wider, completely ignoring my question. "You are a special one indeed. Wait here. I have something that I know you will enjoy." With that, he walked off behind another curtain, looking as if it led to another room altogether, but as he went through it, I saw the runes on his rings glowing bright green, the same green as the odd flashes of light I kept seeing. Then, I felt the silver rings I wore grow suddenly warm, and I looked down, staring in amazement, for they were ablaze with light as well, this time many shades of blue. I held my hand up, turning it over and gazing at the silver rings as they blazed in the dim light, wholly amazed. I felt like I was in a daze, parts of my mind clearly missing in action. None of this seemed remotely alarming, though I felt like I really should have been more disturbed by all this. "Here you are."
The old man was holding out an oddly shaped parcel wrapped in oil cloth, tied closed with twine. Shaking my head, I tried to focus, to get a handle on things, but the shop seemed to be blurring around us. I couldn't seem to focus on it, and every time I tried, the world seemed to be spinning around me, like I was turning rapidly in place. Shaking my head once more, I reached out to take the package, the blue glow fading from the rings as I did so. I could feel my heart speeding up, my breath coming in short gasps, my head spinning.
"How much is it?" I heard my voice ask, then shook my head; my mouth seemed to be running away with itself. It was only after I said it that I had realized I had no idea what was inside the package.
"No charge among druids." He said, waving off my concerns. "Just have fun..."
And then, all at once, I felt a chill breeze curl under my armor, weak sunlight suddenly shining down on me. I looked around, finding myself suddenly standing at the entrance to the festival grounds, people streaming past me, heading out of the huge wooden doors that marked the exit to the festival. Everything that had happened at the odd shop seemed like something from a fever dream, something that I couldn't recall clearly even now. I couldn't recall anything after the druid had handed me the package either. I was still trying to figure out how I got there a few minutes later when my brother came up to me, his armor making him look like he was clad in dragonhide.
"Hey man." He said, the green scales of his armor jingling as he threw an arm around my shoulders, turning me towards the doors. "What's that?"
"Huh?" I asked, looking down at the package I was still carrying under my arm. I hadn't realized I was still carrying it. "Oh. That. I...I don't know."
"How can you not know what you bought?" He asked, leading the way out of the festival grounds and I shook my head.
"I am not sure." I replied, still confused, my mind elsewhere, trying to make sense of the events that I knew had happened, though the memories were still mixed up in my head.
"Are you ok?" My brother asked, stopping in the middle of the crowd and regarding me with a concerned expression.
"Yeah." I said, shaking my head. "I am fine."
"Alright, if you are sure." He said, leading the way back to the car.
"I'm just fine." I said again, following my armor clad brother. "I think..."
***
Sighing, I tossed my baldric and leather armor onto the couch in my living room, setting the pouches containing my purchases down on the coffee table as I did so. This weekend had started out pretty great, but now I wished that I had decided to break tradition and stay home. It was Sunday afternoon, and I had only just gotten back to Sarah and I's house.
One of my old friends had a house in Larkspur, the town nearest to the festival grounds and it was he that had let us stay for the weekend every year so we could get to the festival early each day and really enjoy it without having to leave early. Usually, we spent the ride back to the house discussing shows we had seen, or things we had bought. But this time, all the way back to our temporary home on the day before, I had stayed quiet, trying to make sense of how I gotten from the far end of the marketplace to the entrance, but I couldn't seem to remember. The best that I could figure, one moment I had been in Orlan's oddments, and the next I had been standing at the entrance. I hadn't even been able to sleep that night, because every time I had been about to drop off, the same odd tingle I had felt inside the shop had appeared all over the place and nothing I had done had stopped it. I had immediately resolved to figure out who the old man had been, and where he had come from. But when I had logged on to the festival's website and searched for the shop's name, it hadn't been listed. I had thought that that was weird, but with so many new shops every year, it made sense that the website might not have been updated. The shop might have even have been a late arrival or something and just got left off the list.
With that thought in mind, I set the problem aside and laid down, trying (and failing) to capture a few minutes of elusive sleep before the next day. But the next day, the problem had returned full force. Orlan's Oddments wasn't on the festival map, and try as I might, I couldn't seem to find it either. I had returned to the tea shop I had left before I had gone into the odd shop, but the side street where the shop had been seemed not to even exist. In desperation, I had asked all the festival guides I could find about it but no one seemed to have had even heard of such a shop. Shaken, I had spent the rest of the day wandering in a daze, finding it impossible to think about anything else. Finally, I had convinced myself it had all somehow been a hallucination. That is, until I had gotten back to the house and found that the package the old man had given me was still in my pile of gifts. I hadn't been able to bring myself to open it, fearing that it might blow up or something if I had and I had almost chucked it when I had packed up to go home. But I had finally decided that I might as well take it with me, whatever it was.
But now, at my home, I had found no comfort, since Sarah wasn't back yet, and being alone wasn't helping matters at all. In the silence of my living room, all my worries came back full force.
"What I need," I said into the empty air of the house, flicking the lights in the living room off. "Is a nice, long soak."
But, even after a hot soak in the bathtub, something that had never failed to make me feel better before, the doubts remained. Toweling myself dry and sighing once more, I started to walk back out into the living room, intending to watch something on TV, but as I opened the bathroom door, I froze in place suddenly, sure that I was going mad. I could have sworn I heard music, the same eerie flutes and harp that had been in the shop that apparently didn't exist. I paused, my heart starting to hammer once more. There it was again, the same tune, quiet, almost ghostly in quality. My heart throbbing in my ears, I stepped out of the bathroom, following the odd music into the darkened living room. The music didn't seem to be coming from anywhere in particular, once again finding its way to my ears without a source. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the music vanished, to be replaced by the ragged sound of my breathing. But, as I looked around the room, still seeking the source of the music, something caught my eye, a glint of blue light in the darkness. Walking slowly over to the coffee table, I swept the pile of presents aside, unveiling the oddly shaped package, still wrapped in oil cloth. No light came from it, but still, I knew somehow that it was the source of the odd glint.
With a trembling hand, I picked up the package, the cloth rustling, and in an instant, the music swirled back into my ears, fading after a few measures, nearly making me drop the old man's gift. Then, my own curiosity overwhelmed the fear and hesitation, my fingers untying the twine that held the cloth closed. Then, I pulled the cloth off the object with a quick motion, tossing it aside, my eyes closed. The object seemed to be made of wood, perhaps sanded down though, for it was utterly smooth. And then, opening my eyes slowly, I saw that what I held in my hands was not anything I had expected.
It was a mask, but unlike any I had ever seen before. It had been shaped with the greatest skill into the likeness of a wolf, the shaping so precise that it looked almost real, and, even more amazing, the texture of the front of the mask felt almost like fur, though it was still obviously carved of wood. In fact, it was as if a wolf had been frozen in a moment of time, and then the image captured with more skill than even a master sculptor possessed. One thing only was out of place. In the center of the mask's forehead was the sign of the gaelic trinity, a three lobed infinity loop, the lobes connected by a solid ring, perhaps the most famous of all celtic symbols. Letting out the breath I had been holding in a chuckle at my own foolishness, I shook my head, the unknown fear fleeing from my mind, replaced by a somewhat warm feeling unlike any I had ever felt before. Shaking my head, I turned the mask so it caught the moonlight coming in through the windows, admiring the perfect shape. Then, as my fingers moved on the underside of the mask, they encountered a piece of folded parchment paper.
Carrying the mask with me, I walked so that the light in the hallway illuminated it. It had been stuck to the bottom of the mask, though how it had remained there I couldn't tell you, no tape or glue to be found on either the paper or the mask itself. Unfolding the parchment, I looked on it with amazement. A lengthy message had been scrawled there in an ink that looked almost like it was made of liquid emeralds, glistening as if it was wet even though it was bone dry, though I couldn't read it. It was written in ogham, and though I knew the runes by heart, the message was clearly in gaelic, a language I knew only a few words of. Shaking my head, I walked into the bedroom, tossing the parchment onto the top of my dresser, and I started to put the mask with it, when an almost electric tingle washed through my hand, making me drop it.
Stepping back, I looked at my hand in amazement, sure that I been shocked with static, even though the mask was made of wood. But, as I reached down to pick up the mask once more, I saw something that made me sure I was either dreaming or insane, like I had thought before. A ripple of light, bright blue like the sky, ran up and down the smooth back of the mask, a similar light to that I had seen shining from my rings in the shop, the same light as the glint I had caught out of the corner of my eye. Carefully I reached out and touched the back of the mask, an odd thrill washing through my body as the blue light swirled around my fingers. Curious and at the same time fearful, I picked up the mask once more, the light seeming to wash through the wood in time with my heartbeat, each thump sending a ripple of color through it, washing endlessly through the wood like water. Then, without quite knowing why, I raised the mask to my face, drawing in a deep breath before touching it to my skin. The mask had no strap by which I could hold it on my face, but the moment it touched my skin, I felt a surge of the same tingling energy flood my body, washing down from my head to my toes. In an instant, my arms went slack as if I had lost control of them altogether, falling to my side, but the mask stayed in place, sticking to me as if it had been glued there.
Shivering as the wave of energy washed back upward as if rebounding from the floor, I forced my arms to move, trying frantically to remove the mask, but, as I felt for the edge to get a grip on it, all I encountered was skin. There was no edge, the smooth texture of the mask flowing seamlessly into the smoothness of my skin. What was more, the texture of the mask was changing, becoming almost soft to the touch. And then, as the wave of exciting energy reached my head once more, I suddenly felt my entire body go rigid, as if every muscle had suddenly contracted at once. My body was so tense it was almost painful, my body acting like it was being stretched on the rack. And then, all at once, something changed, a ripple of sudden pain surging through my entire body, and I felt myself suddenly hunch forward, going down to my knees. I groaned, the mask against my jaws stopping me from crying out. It felt as if a knife had been driven into my guts, my eyes squeezing shut with the agony. I felt my muscles clench even tighter, and then it was if an explosion had happened in the small of my back, pitching me forward, my head narrowly missing the bureau in front of me. I slumped onto my side, my forehead hot with rug burn. And then, the itching began, a tingling sensation crawling across my neck as if thousands of insects suddenly swarmed across me. And it was spreading, picking up speed the farther it went. I writhed on the rough carpet, trying to scratch everywhere at once, and then, in my wild thrashing, I slammed my head into the bureau and my vision swam, and then I saw nothing but darkness...
***
My eyes opened slowly and I groaned, the lights in the ceiling suddenly intolerably bright. It took me a few moments of staring upward, my eyes blurry, to figure out what I was doing and how I had ended up on the floor, and then, with a sudden rush of memories, I remembered everything that had happened. A dull throbbing ache immediately started up in the back of my head where I had nailed the dresser and I rubbed at it with a hand, my vision clearing a little bit. Lifting my head slowly, I tried to evaluate what I was feeling, tried to get a handle on what had happened. On the plus side of the equation, the itching was gone, as was the sudden pain in my lower back, but where the itching had been there was now an almost pleasurable tingling sensation all over the place, a sensation akin to what it might feel like if my entire body had fallen asleep. Groaning once more, I managed to lever myself upward a bit, freeing the arm that had been trapped under my torso, then started to push myself up. And then, suddenly, I stopped, letting out a startled gasp, my arm giving out once more, making my head rebound from the floor. Letting out a quiet curse, I rolled over onto my back, my vision swimming, and then brought my trembling arm into view once more, hoping that I hadn't seen what I thought I had seen. But there it was, something wholly undeniable.
My arm was covered in silver-gray fur, the hand no longer human in shape. It looked like a wolf's paw. Reaching up with my other arm, I touched it, noticing two things immediately. First, my other hand was exactly like the other one, with the single exception of the three silver rings on the middle digit. And second, I could feel my hand, or paw I suppose, running through the fur, and looking closer, I realized that, as impossible as it seemed, I had grown fur. And then, I got another surprise. Running my paw through the fur on my arm felt magnificently good, so good it made me shiver with pleasure. Slowly, bracing myself for what I might find, I raised my head and looked down the length of my body.
"No way." I said, my head falling back so I was looking up at the ceiling once more. Then I had to shake my head once again. My voice was different, a touch deeper than it had been, with a sort of growling accent within it. This couldn't be real. This had to be a dream. Closing my eyes once more, I hauled myself to my feet, managing it only with the aid of the bed. My legs didn't seem to be working properly. There was a full length mirror on the closet door, and if I could just get over in front of it... Sure that I was at least close enough to be able to see myself in the mirror, I drew in a deep breath in preparation.
"No way...no way this is real." I whispered to myself, then opened my eyes a crack. They went wide in an instant, my mouth falling open in surprise. There in the mirror, was a grey furred anthro wolf, the face matching the mask exactly, even to a perfect replica of the trinity in pure white fur upon my forehead. Other white highlights traced their way through my fur all over my body, looking almost like gaelic tattoos, forming shapes like to leaves and vines, but made of beautiful knotwork. But, though I had never defined my fursona with such detail, it was obviously me I was looking at, the distinctive silver medallion with the gaelic knot still hanging around my neck, though the woven cord it hung on seemed to have gotten longer, fitting my altered stature. One of my ears twitched and the wolf in the mirror did the exact same thing, then I looked down at myself once more. There was no denying it. I had become an anthro wolf. Then, looking back at the mirror, I leaned a little closer to the shimmering surface, examining the reflection with more detail. I seemed to have grown at least a foot since putting on the mask, and I turned a bit, admiring my new body and noticed for the first time just how much my physique had changed. My legs were bent like a wolf's, and that explained the trouble I had had getting up to my feet, though the odd stance seemed as natural to me as breathing now that I was standing. And, come to think of it, as I stood there, testing my stance, I actually liked it better. Then, I looked closer at the reflection, flexing my arms in surprise.
It looked like I had somehow also packed on about a hundred pounds of toned muscle in the few minutes I had been passed out. I now had a body like one of those guys you saw on the 'Strongman' competitions, though I felt even more flexible than I had been before, the muscle not impeding me at all. Examining my new body in the mirror, I flexed a bit more, smiling broadly, my tail starting to wag. This was incredible, a dream come true. Every fiber of my body seemed filled with limitless strength. And then, looking down, I noticed something else. My member, though unerect and hidden within a furry sheath, was as large as my human privates had been while fully stiff. Even as I thought it, the tip of my penis peeked out of the sheath and my thoughts dove into all sorts of naughty fantasies, things that made me grin even as I tried to stay focused on figuring this out. And then, something happened that hadn't entered my head as a possibility. Suddenly, my ears flicked back like two radar dishes, catching a terrifying sound from the direction of the rest of the house, my wolfish face becoming a mask of horror. The door leading to the garage had just opened up. I heard footsteps, and then a beautiful voice calling out.
"Devin, are you home?" Sarah called. I looked around, suddenly aware of how stupid I had been just hanging out in the bedroom, examining myself. It was one of the only rooms in the house with only one way in or out. Thinking quickly, it suddenly occurred to me to try and take the mask off once again. Even though Sarah was a furry, I doubted she would handle finding a naked anthro wolf standing in her bedroom very well. My movements increasingly frantic, I tried to find an edge around my face, some way of taking the damned thing off, but no dice. It was as if the mask had never existed and I had always been a wolf, the human I had been nothing more than a dream. The footsteps had stopped outside of the room. "Are you in there?"
"Uh..." I said, turning around towards the door, instinctually covering myself. "Yeah. I am here. Give me a sec, ok?"
"Are you alright? You don't sound good." She replied and I saw the door handle turn. This was bad, really bad. How the hell was I supposed to explain this? I froze, indecision making me suddenly afraid. Then, Sarah began to push the door open.
"Oh hell..."