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For some reason, you pick the piece of amber up from the table, despite the weird feeling you have about it. It’s heavy in your hand, and surprisingly sticky- you can’t even put it down even as you flail your arm. Ah, perhaps you shouldn’t have touched it, as the amber begins to melt into your hand, spreading down your arm as you try to stop it.
There’s no use, goo turning to feathers, balance destroyed by the heavy goo and leg turned digitigrade causing you to crash to the ground. Your mouth is turning to a beak, panicked shouting turning to squawks as you become another creature within this place.
...At least with all these feathers you won’t be so cold.
There’s no use, goo turning to feathers, balance destroyed by the heavy goo and leg turned digitigrade causing you to crash to the ground. Your mouth is turning to a beak, panicked shouting turning to squawks as you become another creature within this place.
...At least with all these feathers you won’t be so cold.
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AshBeater421
~ashbeater421
I love your transfur art and the little stories you provide along with them!
Puppetmaster13u
~puppetmaster13u
OP
Aww, thank you!
