FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A LEOPARD'S TAIL

1.Part One

Peter Hoffman spun himself around, examining his location. He seemed to be standing in the middle of a city street, but something was wrong. There was no one around. No noise. No sounds. And everything was dark. Dark and colorless. The buildings all looked gray and pale, and seemed to stretch endlessly up into the dark, starless sky. There were no streetlights on, or lights in any of the building, but a muted glow emanated from his surroundings, illuminating them in strange, surreal shadows.

Peter spun himself around again, eyes daring back and forth. His heart started to beat faster. There was something out there... Something that was coming to get him. He started to breathe hard, and an irresistible urge to run overcame him. After a moment's hesitation, he took off down the street, running as fast as his legs would carry him. He quickly turned his head back over his shoulder, panting slightly already. That was when he saw it. Something huge and black, like a living shadow, darker than anything he'd ever seen. It ran on four legs as it chased after him, it's form difficult to discern in the strange quasi-darkness.

Peter tried to run faster, but it was as if he were trying to run through water, or jello. The creature behind him quickly gained on him, barreling down on Peter's slow moving form like a freight train. Peter watched in amazement and fear as it suddenly leapt at him like a bullet when it was a few feet away, coming at him at full speed. A loud buzz filled his ears...

Waking him up as he reflexively reached his hand out to turn the buzzer on his alarm clock off. Peter blinked a few times, shook his head to clear it, and yawned. He looked at the clock and ran a hand down his face. Well, that certainly was an odd dream. He thought to himself. Unusually vivid too. I usually don't remembered much of my dreams when I wake up, and almost never with such clarity.

Shaking off the last clinging remnants of sleep, Peter got out of bed and headed for the bathroom to get ready for work, filing away the dream for later consideration. It was 6:00, and today was Friday. Work down at the office had been slow lately. If he got in early, Mr. Murphy would probably let him go a few hours early

Peter was an average looking man of twenty-five. A bit tall at five foot ten, he had a full head of dark brown, almost black hair and a pair of almost pure blue eyes. He was generally a calm, quiet man, and that fact seemed to have transcribed itself into his face. His rounded facial features were usually shaped into an expression of mild curiosity or concentration when he was working..

It only took Peter a few minutes to take a shower, shave, dress, and head out the door of his small apartment. He wore a shirt and pants, as usual, despite the fact that his office was pretty casual and informal. He was on the road to the office building within an hour and a half, and it was a short drive there. He nodded to the security guard in the lobby of the building as he entered and headed for the elevators.

Peter got out at the twelfth floor, and headed for the area he worked in. The building was still pretty empty, and Peter nodded to the few people he walked past. Within a few moments he arrived at the section of cubicles where he worked. His boss, Ted Murphy, was, as usual, already there. Ted was a large, hulking black man, who almost certainly would have looked fierce if not for the fact that he was always smiling cheerfully. It's a good thing he's so friendly. He's definitely not some one I'd want ticked off at me. Peter thought to himself with a grin

"Good morning Peter." Ted greeted Peter as he entered.

"Good morning Mr. Murphy."

Ted walked over with a few papers and a floppy disk in his hand. "These just came in a few hours ago. They're for the Kawisi Corporation. I'd like you to take a look at them. They want this in by Wednesday, so see if you can't finish looking it over by Monday, okay?"

Peter nodded and accepted the papers and disk. "No problem Mr. Murphy."

Ted shook his head and laughed. "You've been working here for a year and a half Peter, and I STILL haven't broken you of the habit of calling me Mr. Murphy."

Peter grinned. "What can I say, old habits die hard Ted." Peter sniffed his nose a few times. "That's strange... Why do I smell perfume?"

Ted chuckled "Oh, that must be me. My wife spilled some of her perfume on me this morning. I thought I had managed to wash most of it off in the shower this morning though. No one else seemed to notice."

Peter shrugged. "That must be it then. Well, better start earning my paycheck." Ted smiled and nodded before heading back to his office while Peter headed to his cubicle, turned on his lamp and computer, and went to work. His job was pretty simple, if not the most exciting career in the world. He gave various schematics, technical drawings, blueprints, and other technical documents a quick once over and made sure that there were no glaring errors in the design or calculations before sending the papers back to their various companies. Most of the materials he was sent were from various people planning to seek patents, with an occasional corporate job. He, of course, had to sign non-disclosure agreements for everything he looked at, but that was no big deal since just about everyone who sent in designs for examinations already had airtight proof of their ownership of the design.

It wasn't exactly a thrilling job, but it more than paid the bills, plus his boss and his coworkers were pretty friendly people. All in all Peter couldn't complain as he poured over schematics, examined CAD drawings from the disk, and double-checked calculations.

The rest of his fellow employees slowly trickled by as he worked, and Peter waved hello as they passed. Peter reflected that his office looked something like a rogue's gallery for oddballs. There was Jake Fuller, the caffeine addict. The man consumed such inhumanly large quantities of coffee and soda Peter sometimes wondered how he ever slept... Or IF he slept for that matter! He was sure he'd left work one night while Jake had stayed later, only to return the next morning to find Jake already there, still working on the same project, wearing what appeared to be the same clothes.

Next was Dan Eldon. Dan seemed like a pretty normal guy, except for the fact that he dressed like a secret service agent. And he ALWAYS wore a pair of sunglasses, even inside the building. Peter could just picture him with an ear mike standing by the White House. Or in a Men in Black movie, if he wore a different colored suit. Peter thought to himself with a small chuckle.

Then there was Frank Chang, who seemed to single handedly demolish the myth that all Asians are hard workers. It always seemed like he was asleep at his desk or reading the paper, and yet he somehow always had all his work done and prepared on time. No one had been able to figure out THAT little mystery yet.

Brooke Gaber passed by next. Currently the only female employee, she seemed to take a sadistic delight in using her sharp wit to pop the egos of any male co-worker foolish enough to make a pass at her. The office had been filled with the casualties of the battle of the sexes the first few days after Brooke arrived, few men being up to her verbal repartee. Peter still found amusement remembering the befuddled looks on some of his friend's faces at they left her cubicle. Things finally quieted down a few days later as she was slowly accepted into the group.

Then there was Paul Kalis, the resident techie. A short bald man, he sometimes seemed to like machines more than people. Still, he could practically make a computer sit up and do tricks. Peter sometimes wondered what he was doing here in the first place, instead of working at some software or hardware company.

Peter continued working throughout the afternoon, stopping only for a short lunch break with some of the other guys. Funny thing about lunch was that it was the middle of the day, but he was in the mood for some steak. It was around four o'clock and he was just finishing up work on his project when Dan passed by his cubicle, stepped back to look in, and stepped in for a moment. Peter looked up from the paper he was working on to see what Dan wanted.

"Hey buddy, you know, you really should work with a light on, or else you're going to go blind." Dan said, flipping on the light Peter hadn't even noticed was off.

Peter laughed and grinned. "This from a guy who drives in the middle of the night with sunglasses on?"

Dan chuckled and walked back out to get back to whatever he was working on before. "Seeya later Peter." Peter nodded back and returned to his papers. He paused to think for a second, then turned off the light for a moment. Now that he had seen the light on, his workspace DID seem pretty dark with it off. Darker than he'd usually be able to work.

Peter shrugged. Just one of those things, I guess. Must have been working too hard to notice. Peter had his work finished in a few more minutes, and headed down to Ted's office. Ted wasn't there at the moment, so he dropped the papers and disk on his desk, along with his own analysis. He was just leaving the office when he ran into Ted.

"Oh, there you are boss. I finished up the Kawisi project. The papers are on your desk. I was just about to leave early."

Ted grinned. "You got that finished already? Excellent. They'll be pleased to get our response back a whole weekend in advance. Maybe we'll be able to squeeze some more business out of them. Well, you have a nice night Peter. See you on Monday." Peter nodded and headed towards the elevator while Ted headed back to his office. Once again Peter marveled at his luck in landing a job with a boss like Ted Murphy.

A few hours later Peter opened the door to his apartment, a large bag of groceries in his hands, the results of a trip to the supermarket on his way back. "Ah, home sweet home." Peter said as he dropped the bag of groceries on the counter that separated the kitchen from the main living room. Peter's apartment wasn't all that big, and by now he could easily afford a larger one, but he had been living here for over two years, and it really did feel like home. A small home maybe, but home none the less. It was a four room apartment, with a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom all connected by a larger central living room where he kept his television, a small couch and his computer, on a small table in the corner.

Peter turned on his computer and checked his e-mail to see if he had gotten anything from the office while he was out. Then he made himself a quick dinner and watched some television before heading off to bed. He really didn't have anything planned for the weekend. Maybe he'd catch a movie at the theater if there was anything good playing...

And with that though, Peter drifted off to sleep.

With a large yawn and a stretch, Peter awoke the next morning. Scratching his face, he looked over at his clock. Nine O'clock, huh? I usually don't sleep in so late, but it IS the weekend after all... With another yawn, he lifted himself out of bed and headed towards the bathroom. He was feeling a little odd today, though it was nothing he could put his finger on. He seemed to recall another weird dream from last night, but it was all vague and fuzzy. Oh well. It's probably nothing. Maybe I'll go out for breakfast this morning...

Peter looked in the mirror and rubbed his face. He seemed to have an awful lot of stubble this morning... Shrugging groggily, he pulled out his electric razor and gave his face a quick shave. After he was done, he splashed on some cold water, which helped to wake him up a bit more. When he looked back up at the mirror, he was surprised to notice he still had a stubble on his face.

"But, didn't I just..." Peter looked down at the electric razor lying on the counter where he placed it after shaving. "That's strange..."

Peter reflexively started to scratch his hand as he wondered why his face was still all fuzzy. He blinked suddenly as he realized he was scratching his hand, and looked down to see what it was that was irritating his skin. The problem quickly became evident. There was a light coat of hair growing on his hand!

"Well, THIS certainly isn't normal..." Peter said aloud to himself, looking at the hair on his hands. It wasn't even the normal black color of his hair, more like a yellow or blond color. Looking back into the mirror, he noticed the hair on his face was the same color.

Peter stepped out of the bathroom and back into the living room, more than a little disconcerted. This was really weird. What if he was sick or something? He's never heard of an illness that made people grow hair, but still....

He had just decided to call a doctor to make an appointment and was heading for the phone when a strange sensation overcame him, and he heard a ripping sound from behind him. Peter put a hand on the couch to stabilize himself and shook his head to clear away the feeling before looking behind him. Once again he was struck with an unusual sight. A tail. A long, yellow tail with black spots. HIS tail.

I have a tail? Since when?? He asked himself in a daze. He raised a hand to his face, and noticed that it felt a bit odd. He quickly staggered back into the bathroom to look in the mirror. One good look at his face was enough to make him grip the sides of the sink with his hands (his FURRY hands he noticed detachedly) to keep himself from falling over.

His face was completely covered in yellow fur with black spots, and it seemed to be slightly elongated, like a muzzle. His eyes had turned to a bright yellow color, and when he opened his mouth to gape in astonishment, he noticed that his teeth had also changed, becoming quite pointy.

Peter suddenly felt like laughing, and recognized the urge as the fringes of panic that it was. His breath was coming in shorter gasps as he started to hyperventilate. Quickly he closed his eyes tight, and loosened his grip on the sink, trying to force himself to calm down. I am NOT growing fur. My eyes are NOT yellow. My name is Peter Hoffman, and I am my perfectly normal self.

After a moment Peter opened his eyes again and looked back into the mirror. He breathed a large sigh of relief when his reflection showed him to be a normal, healthy, if somewhat unnerved looking human being. He raised a hand to his face, feeling it to make sure there was no stubble there.

"Must have been a dream, or a delusion or something.. Maybe something I ate last night.. I really should see a doctor..." Peter said to himself, calming down as he looked at his reflection. And then his tail swayed back into view.

His tail?

Panic struck Peter full force, as his breathing sped up once again. He quickly grasped the sink in the same spots to keep himself up, squeezing hard, and closing his eyes tight. I do NOT have a tail. I do NOT have a tail. I do NOT have a tail...

Slowly Peter opened his eyes once again. He turned himself slowly to the side, checking for any extra appendages. He breathed another sigh of relief when none became apparent. He once again thought back to this all being a delusion, but he knew that was no longer a possibility.

The hole in the back of his pants and the slight imprints of hands on the sides of the sink said that this was definitely no delusion.

This is DEFINETLY not normal... Peter thought to himself, pacing back and forth in his living room, periodically checking behind him for a tail and rubbing a hand over his face to make sure no fur was growing there. His pants were lying over the top of the couch where he'd thrown them after changing into something without a large hole in the back. The damage was still visible on the rear of the pants, an excellent reminder whenever Peter considered that maybe he HAD been delusional.

What to do, what to do? Peter continued his pacing, wiping his face. I should go see a doctor, right? I mean, this definitely isn't normal... What if I'm sick with something? But... I've never heard of an illness that makes people grow fur...His pacing increased. But then people might find out about this... I don't want to end up on the cover of the Enquirer... And what if they want to turn me into some sort of guinea pig?

Peter finally flopped down onto the sofa, staring out into space, unmoving, as he though to himself. Going to the doctor was definitely out of the question. He'd just have to handle this by himself. Whatever THIS was.

After sitting on the sofa in a daze for an indeterminate amount of time, Peter blinked his eyes a few times, and looked around, taking note of his surroundings once again. Looking out the window, he noticed that the sun had gone down. When had that happened? He asked himself. Geez... I must have really been out of it for the past few hours... Then he noticed something else. He had no lights on in his apartment. The sun had set, he had no lights on, and yet he was seeing everything as if it were the middle of the day.

Peter hopped up off the sofa, stumbling slightly as he noticed his legs had gone to sleep while he was sitting down, and ran into the bathroom. He quickly looked in the mirror, grasping the sink in a manner that becoming all too familiar. This time his face looked almost completely normal. Almost. His eyes were a bright yellow color, and seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the bathroom. Almost like a cat's eyes...

Peter quickly closed his eyes, and rubbed them with his hands. Breathing deeply in and out, he opened them again and looked back into the mirror. The room seemed quite a bit darker now, and his eyes were no longer a bright glowing yellow, but they still seemed to have a slightly yellow tint to them, and he could still see better in the darkness than he could ever remember seeing before...

Peter sighed and rubbed his face. "Sleep.... That's what I need. Some sleep." He said aloud to himself. Slowly he trudged into his bedroom, changed into an old pair of pajamas, and flopped onto the bed. The shock of the day's events caught up with him, and he was soon fast asleep. Maybe tomorrow everything will be back to normal...

Peter awoke slowly, eyes closed as he relaxed in bed, regaining consciousness in levels. He seemed to remember that there was something from yesterday bothering him, but on the border between sleep and awake, his mind couldn't come up it. Rather than think about it, he stretched out luxuriously in his bed, enjoying a little peace and quite. Finally, after lying there for a few minutes, he yawned and slowly began to open his eyes, stretching his arms to their limits in front of himself.

He opened his eyes expecting to see a pair of hands in front of his face. Instead it took him several moments to blink his blurry eyes to clearness and get his sleep fuddled mind functioning well enough to identify the appendages before him. Not hands. Paws.

The realization brought him awake in a second, and brought yesterday's memories flashing back to mind. He rolled out of his bed in an instant, and quickly disproved the myth that cats always land on their feet. Hitting the floor on his side, he immediately scrabbled back up to his feet, or paws as the case was, in panic. He scrabbled across the floor on all fours, knocking his half opened door fully opened on his way into the living room, and skidding across the tiles in the bathroom as he attempted to stop.

After sliding into the wall he quickly got up on his hind legs and placed his hands, Paws, he mentally corrected himself, on the sink. The face reflected back didn't look even remotely human. It was covered in yellow fur with small black dots, and was shaped into a pronounced muzzle. A pair bright yellow eyes looked back at him from the glass, and a pair of triangular ears stuck up off his head. The type of animal he was looking at was quite obvious.

A leopard. Definitely a leopard. As he stared, dumbfounded in the mirror, his paws slipped off the sink, and he fell onto his side on the cold tiles of the bathroom. He tried to say something as he slipped, but all that came out was a low rumble. He curled himself into a ball and closed his eyes.

I've turned into a leopard... He thought deliriously to himself. This was far too bizarre to even comprehend, even after what happened yesterday. Yesterday... Yesterday I could change myself back to normal by thinking about it.. So I should be able to do the same now, right? It seemed to make sense, but right now very little in Peter's life seemed to be making sense.

Still curled up on the floor, he concentrated as hard as he could on the image of his normal, human self. It was difficult to concentrate with panic threatening to overtake him, but suddenly he felt.. Different.

Slowly he opened his eyes and blinked. His hands were still covered with a thick layer of fur, but they were definitely hands, not paws. Shaking his head, Peter uncurled and got up off the floor. Looking back into the mirror, he was confronted with an image which was becoming all too familiar. His face was once again completely covered with fur, and his eyes were still a yellow color, with a pair of ears sticking off the top of his head, but he was definitely bipedal. Just like yesterday... Peter thought to himself, his hands shaking.. He quickly closed his eyes again, and concentrated, relaxing slightly now that he was at least SOMEWHAT human looking. I am my normal self. I am my normal self. I am my normal self...

Opening his eyes again, Peter was relieved to see a fully human face looking back in the mirror. He took one moment to glance behind him and make sure there was no tail before letting out a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, Peter was sitting in a chair in front of the bedroom mirror, wearing an old T-shirt and pair of pants. He'd found the remains of his pajamas lying on his bed. Apparently they couldn't cope with the strain of his transformation. Peter wasn't too sure if HE could cope with what was going on either.

"I changed into a cat.... A leopard..." He said to himself, running a shaky hand down the side of his face and staring into the mirror. Yesterday had been bad enough, but it had been somewhat... Understandable. Tolerable. Sure, his body had been covered with fur, and he'd grown a tail, but at least he had looked human. Bipedal. But this.... He didn't look even remotely human! He looked like a Leopard! Like something that belonged in a zoo, not an apartment!

"What am I going to do?" He asked his reflection, eyes slightly out of focus. "I should probably tell someone... But who?" Maybe I SHOULD go to see a doctor. I mean, this is way out of my league. And they have a Hippocratic oath or something to keep confidentiality, don't they? Peter ran the problem through his mind. What about my family? I could tell them... But what could they do about it? It would just make them nervous, and I'm nervous enough for everyone already... Peter chuckled to himself, a sharp edge of fear in the sound.

He spent several long minutes staring at the mirror, watching for any changes, as his mind ran over the question over and over. Who to tell? Who to tell? Slowly the answer dawned on him. No one. No one at all. Whatever is happening to me, it's way outside normal medicine, and I don't want to be run through a dozen specialists to be used as a guinea pig. I'll have to keep this a secret. From everyone. But how?

Peter sighed and continued to examine his reflection for any changes. "How am I going to keep this a secret if I keep growing fur and a tail?" He rubbed his face with his hands. "I have to get a grip. I have to keep on top of this. I seem to be able to change myself back to normal by concentrating on it, so I should be able to keep myself from changing in the first place, right?" He rubbed his face again. That's it. Stay focused. Just ignore the fact that you spontaneously changed into an animal while you were asleep...

Suddenly Peter's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. The shock of changing into a large cat seemed more than enough to kill his appetite, but his stomach apparently disagreed. Peter slowly got up from his chair in front of the mirror, took one last close look to make sure nothing had changed, and walked out of the bathroom. Walking into the kitchen, he opened the fridge, his mind awhirl with what was happening. He detachedly began removing cold cuts for a sandwich, ignoring the urge to make a steak or hamburger. It was still too early in the day for dinner.

The simple act of making something to eat seemed to relax him somewhat, and allowed him to think. What is happening to me? And what's it going to do to me? I changed into a cat this morning. A cat! What happens if I get stuck like that or something? Or if I start to forget who I am?? I mean, I don't even know how this is happening...

Peter shook those thoughts from his head as he finished making his sandwich and his stomach growled again. He ate without tasting anything, his mind preoccupied. However, his stomach seemed to appreciate the gesture, and ceased it's grumbling. He was just putting everything away when a new thought suddenly struck him. I have work tomorrow!!!

Images of himself changing into a leopard in the middle of the office, with everyone staring at him, suddenly filled his mind. Images of people running away screaming, and an army of animal control officers charging him. Quickly he shook his head to dispel such unsettling thoughts. No way I can go in tomorrow! I'll have to call in sick... Peter immediately headed into the living room, nerves taut. He was just reaching for the phone when a new thought hit him. Wait. I can only take a few days off sick before people get suspicious. Then I'll have to go to a doctor... Peter shook his head. I still have lots of unused vacation time left... Mr. Murphy usually wants to be told of large amounts of vacation time a week or so in advance, but I'll have to give it a shot... Peter took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the office, hoping someone would be in.

Ted's voice came over the line after a few rings. "Hello? Ted Murphy speaking." He said in a cheery voice.

Geez, doesn't he ever take a day off? Peter asked himself before replying. "Hello, Mr. Murphy?"

"Peter?" Peter could hear good-natured chuckling over the line. "The name is Ted, Peter. What can I do for you? Oh, and good work on the Kawisi project.".

"Thanks Mr. Murp.. er.. Ted. Um, I know this is really short notice, but I was wondering if I could use some of my vacation time this week..." Peter took a deep breath and crossed his fingers.

"This week?" There was a short pause on the other end of the line. "Well, it IS pretty short notice, but business has been pretty slow lately, so I don't see any problems." Peter breathed a sigh of relief, and could almost see Ted grin back at the office. "Taking a little spontaneous break, huh?"

Peter nodded reflexively. "Yeah, you could say that." He wiped a hand down his face. "Just need to get away from it all for a little while." Really far away. Like the middle of the desert, where no one can see me. Peter thought silently.

Ted chuckled. "Well, have a wild time." Peter twitched. Going wild was definitely something he didn't want to do. Another thing to add to his quickly growing list of worries. "Oh, and Peter?" Ted continued after a second. "You might want to see a doctor or something about your throat. You sound pretty growly, even over the phone."

Peter paled slightly. "Um, thanks Ted. I'm pretty sure it's nothing to worry about." This goes WAY beyond worrying... "I guess I'll see you next Monday."

Peter barely waited for Ted to say his good-byes before hanging the phone up and running into the bathroom. He quickly looked in the mirror to see what had changed this time. To his relief nothing drastic seemed to have happened. His eyes had a definite yellowish tinge, but that had been there before. The only visible changes were that his face looked just a little fuzzy, as if he hadn't shaved in a few hours, and his teeth looked quite a bit sharper than they should have been.

Peter touched the tip of one of his teeth with his finger. "Why does this keep happening?" He asked himself despondently. Now that he was listening to it, his voice DID sound quite a bit scratchier than normal. And I never even noticed... How am I going to keep from changing if I don't even realize when it happens?? Peter looked down into the sink, closed his eyes, and rubbed his nose. This is never going to work.. I'm dead meat... When he looked back up into the mirror, he noticed that his eyes seemed a bit more yellow, his teeth a bit sharper, and now his ears were becoming a bit pointy at the tips...

"Get a grip..." Peter said to himself, closing his eyes for a moment, and focusing on controlling his breathing. When he looked back into the mirror, his face had returned to normal. Except.... His eyes STILL seemed to have just a hint of yellow in them. But at the moment the color of his eyes being a few shades off didn't seem like such a big deal.

"Okay... Okay, I can control this... No big deal..." Peter said out loud to help calm himself. Peter decided that this would be as good a time as any to try an experiment. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he cautiously pictured himself as the furry leopard morph he'd become yesterday, slowly willing something to happen. After a few seconds he started to feel a little strange, and immediately stopped and snapped his eyes open.

Once again an inhuman face looked back at him from the mirror. Yellow eyes, yellow spotted fur, triangular ears on top of his head... He quickly checked behind him for a tail, and was relieved to find he hadn't ruined another pair of pants with an extra appendage.

Closing his eyes Peter tried to concentrate on his normal human self, willing himself not to hyperventilate. After a moment he opened his eyes and looked back into the mirror and blinked at the reflection. He was still a bit furry, and his ears were still a bit pointy, but he was definitely more human looking. It seemed as thought he was about halfway back. He quickly closed his eyes tight again, got a grip on his nerves, and concentrated harder. When he opened his eyes again he was back to his normal brown hared, blue eyed self. Except for the fact that his eyes STILL had a slightly shade of yellow to them...

"Okay... Okay, no problem..." He said to himself, breathing hard from fear. "I can control this... No problem..." His breathing slowly returned to normal as he forced himself to calm down.

Peter started to pace back and forth inside the confined space of the bathroom, thinking out loud. "Okay... I can control this... All I have to do is remain calm, and keep my concentration. Keep focused." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "I can do this. All I need to do is remain calm and in control.." Peter paused his pacing for a moment. "And stop talking to myself. Definitely stop talking to myself." He went back to pacing, checking the mirror every few seconds. If he'd been able to watch himself walking back and forth in that small room, he would have been disconcerted with how much like a cage animal he looked. But his mind was far too occupied at the moment to notice such things.

Peter was sitting in he kitchen early the next morning, groggy eyed, and drinking a large cup of coffee. Every few seconds he would run a hand down his face. He had woken up as a leopard again this morning. He hadn't panicked this time though. Or rather, he hadn't panicked as badly. There was, however, another set of unidentifiable scratch marks on the hardwood floor of his bedroom in addition to the ones he found he had made yesterday morning.

He took another sip of coffee to settle his nerves and stop himself from shaking. This whole thing was really starting to take its toll on him. He blinked groggily as the coffee began to do its job. Still, he was getting better with it. He was in control now. Sort of. Except for this whole sleeping thing. He shook his head. There's nothing quite like waking up in the morning as a bundle of fur and claws...

He took a large gulp of coffee and shivered. He'd spent most of yesterday staring in the mirror, concentrating on changing himself slightly, and then quickly changing back. It was easy to get himself to change, but every time he did, his nerves made it difficult to concentrate to change back. Still, he seemed to be getting better.

"I just have to stay calm. Stay in control..." He said to himself, pouring some more coffee into his cup. Still a bit groggy and nervous, his arm slipped, and he spilled hot coffee all over his hand.

"Ouch!!" Peter dropped the coffeepot back onto the table, grasping his inured hand, growling slightly. He examined the hand. It didn't look too bad.. Except for the fact that there was a thin layer of fur growing on it... Peter sighed and examined his distorted refection in the side of the coffeepot as the fact that he had just growled dawned on him.

"It's going to be a loooong day..." He said to himself, his voice low and rough, as he examined the furry, muzzled face reflected back in the curved surface of the coffee pot and checked his back to see if he'd ripped up another pair of pants...

Peter sat in the kitchen early Wednesday morning, sipping a cup of tea, the bags for which he'd found stuffed way in the back of his closet. The stuff tasted pretty bad, but it was all he had after running out of coffee yesterday morning, and it WAS waking him up a bit. In retrospect he probably shouldn't have tried to stay up all night Monday by drinking coffee, but the prospect of changing into a giant cat while asleep hadn't appealed to him...

Not that trying to stay up all night changed anything. Nor did taking a few sleeping pills last night. He slept pretty well, actually. It was just waking up that was the problem. The scratches on the floor were increasing, and this morning had been even worse than the past three. This time he'd woken up all entangled in his bed sheet, wrapped tight and with his claws caught on the fabric. He'd panicked so badly, suddenly fearing that someone had caught him and was going to take him away to the zoo or something, that he'd shredded the sheet to pieces to escape before calming down enough to change even halfway back. The fact that he'd been having unpleasant dreams lately hadn't helped any either...

Peter made a face as he took another sip of his bitter drink. Must have added too much lemon juice.. Now I remember why I don't drink tea... He sighed. And coffee wasn't the only thing he was out of. He hadn't gone shopping since Friday, hadn't even left the house for that matter, and he was running low on stuff to eat. He'd eaten just about all his cold cuts, and all that remains in his fridge were some fruits and salad, which he hadn't been in the mood for lately.

"I've gotta go shopping..." He shivered. The supermarket was only about two blocks away from his apartment, an easy walk there and back since he only had to buy enough food for one person for a few days. But with everything that had been going on... Images of growing fur or claws in the middle of the supermarket or street came to mind unbidden. Peter shook his head. He'd have to go eventually, or he'd starve to death. Unless I started doing something at night to prevent that... Peter shivered. One of his biggest fears was that he was going to go feral. That he might start acting like a cat while he was asleep, or maybe even awake. So far he hadn't had any problems, and he WAS getting much better at controlling his changes, and keeping himself from changing in the first place, but....

"Gotta go shopping..." He mumbled to himself, taking another sip of tea.

It was about eight O'clock when Peter rode he elevator down to the ground level of his apartment building and headed off down the street towards the supermarket. It was still pretty early, and he was hoping to get there while the store was mostly empty, so he could finish quickly and get home.

In preparation for his trip, he was wearing a long flowing jacket and had a hat in his pocket. That way, if he started to change while shopping, the coat would hide his tail, and the hat most of his face. I hope it doesn't come to that... Peter thought to himself nervously. With my luck, they'll see the hat and jacket and think I'm there to rob the place! He thought dryly.

Peter forced himself to walk at a normal pace and keep his eyes from darting around as he headed towards the supermarket. He felt as it everyone in the area was staring right at him. He knew he was just being paranoid, but he felt that way anyway. He tried to relax. The more nervous he got, the harder it was to concentrate. He'd found it was a lot easier to avoid changing if he just stayed calm, and didn't have a panic attack. But it was a bit difficult to stay calm while worrying that you might sprout fur and claws at any minute...

He breathed a slight sigh of relief when the automatic doors of the supermarket quietly opened before him. I will NOT change. I will NOT change. I will NOT change. Peter walked through the supermarket more than a bit preoccupied, his mind concentrating on keeping himself from changing. He narrowly avoided walking into a little old lady, and knocking over a stack of cans. Relax. Just have to stay focused. Get my stuff, and get out.

Peter quickly got a cart and began picking up items. Cereal, coffee, cold cuts. Before long he found himself by the refrigerated section, looking at the meats. He had a sudden urge to chuck the other stuff and just buy a few pounds of steak, but shook that thought away. Instead he picked up two packages of meat and went to drop them into his cart. But before he put them down, his nose sniffed a little. Making an odd face, he sniffed the two packaged of meat. One smelled okay, but the other seemed to smell... strange.

"Hey sonny, you gonna buy that or smell it?" Peter turned around to find a small blue hared little old lady behind him, wearing a supermarket uniform. As a mater of fact, it looked like the same little old lady he's almost walked into before.

"Well, I just thought this package smelled a bit strange..." He replied a bit nervously.

"Smelled strange you say? Give that here Sonny." Peter handed her the package and she sniffed it a few times. Then she turned it around and looked at it, poking it a bit. "I don't see how you could smell anything through this plastic junk, but you're right on one thing Sonny. This meats gone bad. I should know. I've been working here for ten years. Happens every now and then. Bad shipment slips through every now and then or something."Oh. Well, thanks." Peter cautiously took another package and sniffed it. It smelled fine to him so he put in his cart.

"I'll take care of this sonny. You just go on." She told him, walking confidently towards a door to the back of the store. Peter shook his head. What a strange, spunky little old lady... He shook his head and rubbed his nose a few times before getting on with his shopping. Best to finish up and get out before anything else odd happened.

About ten minutes later he had everything he'd come for (as well as another package of meat he'd decided to purchase), and was walking down an aisle towards the cash registers when a strange odor caught his attention. He sniffed his nose a few times and looked around to see what was causing it. Suddenly he noticed where he was. The pet section. The smell was coming from a stack of catnip cat toys.

You have GOT to be kidding me... Peter hurriedly rushed down the aisle, away from the cat toys, the smell still making his nose twitch. No problem. No problem. Just buy your stuff, and leave. No problem. Peter repeated to himself, trying to calm down. He suddenly felt the need to run a hand over his face to check for fur, but he didn't. If he was growing fur right now, he didn't want to know about it.

The checkout lines were pretty empty for once, and Peter quickly headed towards the shortest one. The person in front of him was already bagging her stuff, and Peter quickly began placing his purchases on the conveyer belt. A bored looking young woman began to run things over the scanner, looking as if she were resisting the urge to yawn. She didn't give Peter a second glance as he quickly paid, picked up his two bags, and headed towards the doors at something quite a bit faster than a normal walk.He breathed a sigh of relief as he got back outside. Just two more blocks to walk and I'm home free. I can handle this. Nothing has happened so far, nothing is going to happen now... Forcing himself to calm down and slow to a normal pace, he headed back to his apartment. Within a few minutes he was riding the elevator to his floor, truly relaxing for the first time.

"Made it..." He whispered to himself as he closed his door behind him and put his groceries on the kitchen counter. He sighed in relief and ran a hand down his face. No fur. He took a moment to walk over to the bathroom and check his reflection. Besides that slight yellow tinge to his eyes, which he still hadn't been able to get rid of, he looked perfectly normal.

"Maybe this won't be as impossible as I'd thought... I can handle this..." Feeling rather cheerful at his success, he began to put things away. One worry down, a few hundred left to go...