Melting

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Daniel18

_ _

“Mmm…”

Flannery rolled over in bed – or she at least tried to. Her home was fireproof, which was just as well for the fire-type Pokemon she trained. A wooden cabin on the volcano slopes may have been well suited to her, but she had to take her Pokemon into consideration too. And the risks, of course, in being so exposed in one of her favourite locations.

It was still dark, however, and she couldn’t roll over, feeling like she was slumped into the bed and stuck somehow. Blinking, she stared up at the ceiling, though she couldn’t discern much of it or even the large ceiling fan she had in place to cool her room down, but her light duvet was still on top of her, covering her body up to her neck.

“Hm…”

Flannery tried to murmur, to move her lips, but they oddly felt like they were stuck together. That made little sense to her, not at all. But it was okay. She was likely still just waking up.

The duvet felt heavier than before, however, as if it was smothering her, weighing her down. She was small and yet more densely muscular as she wriggled against it, though even the way she shifted back and forth against it didn’t quite seem right to her. Flannery took a breath, yet only a duller, wetter sensation pulled through her.

That’s odd…

_ _

Sighing lightly, Flannery pushed down the duvet, exposing her body in the dim light of the bedroom, the moon and stars outside at the very least allowing her some illumination. The sticky, wet feel of her body didn’t line up with what she had anticipated, but Flannery froze, her fingers stuck together, clumping and almost…melting?

She tried to take in a sharper, deeper pull of breath as her lungs bubbled wetly, though her head spun dizzyingly as she tried to take in what her body had become. The mattress and the bed were all the same, along with the rest of her room with the simple furniture and the tapestries of fire-type Pokemon draped down the walls. Her body, on the other hand… It didn’t look like her body anymore.

What the hell is happening to me? Why am I melting?

Flannery gasped in a wet gurgle and tried to push back, though her body was merely piles of melted body parts, even though she could still feel them. Her thighs squashed down on to the bed as if the weight of her body was too much for them, looking creamier and wetter, like she could have wrapped her hands around them and squished them into another shape entirely. It looked like light-coloured mud: not soaked, malleable clay mud but the kind that may have been found on the riverbank, slick and shifting under her feet.

Yet she was not someone best suited to wetter places, preferring the dryer, hotter environments where fire-type Pokemon thrived – and her in her training too. Yet her body greeted her very differently as she tried to raise her arms, but the weight of them simply pulled her back to the bed, feeling like parts of them were dripping on to the sheets.

Her fingers smudged together as she stared at them in horror, trying to move them back and forth and barely even managing to prop her forearms up from the bed. Yet her fingers refused to peel themselves apart from one another as her hands melted, impressions in the “goo” her body had become showing where she had tried to hold on to the duvet even just to shove it down her body.

“No…”

She slurred the word, lips parting with strings of mud-like goo strung out between them, muddying and sullying her words. Her whole bed grew wetter as her body sank numbly into it, though it almost looked more like a pool than a bed, but the gym leader wasn’t sure, not yet, whether she was going to even be able to climb out of it again. Or if all she was experiencing was a dream!

Maybe it would all be better if it was a dream, but it was still not all that much better than a nightmare. She wanted to heave for breath, gulping at air, but thick lumps of “her” body were stuck on the bed, crawling and stringing out back towards her hands and arms. Peering more closely, Flannery realised with a shudder they must have got stuck there when she’d tried to push the duvet out of the way. With how weak and dull her body felt, she barely even thought she should have been able to do that in the first place, the strings of her hands and arms pulling up the bed to reconnect with her form.

“Agh…”

Flannery grumbled under her breath, though she couldn’t do all that much, not even then. It felt like she just had to wait for it all to come back together, her body prickling and tickling while her hands and arms moulded, faintly, back into some semblance of a form she recognised. Yet it still didn’t feel like her body at all, not as seconds dragged out and prickling bites of pins and needles seared into the parts of her that were forming to a whole shape once more. There was a sense that her body was not her own, that she was disconnected from it, reminding her of the numbness that came before pins and needles.

Yet she felt a little more like herself, even though her clothes seemed to be sinking into her still. Her chest rose a little as her breasts formed again, looking a little more like they met the natural expectations of her body, rather than even the weight of the duvet making them squashed and unnatural.

This can’t be happening… She ground her teeth, steeling herself, even though steel-type Pokemon really weren’t her thing. I’ve got to get up. Whatever this is, I’ve got to fight it.

_ _

So, she wiggled her toes, emboldened when they twitched back and forth, even though they didn’t move all that much. Her fingers seemed harder to control, prickling and aching, as she slowly tried to wriggle up against her pillows, at least thinking she could use them to support herself somewhat, even if her body was melting apart.

Her form softened down into the bed when she tried to move and the itching continued, prickling up her legs and through her buttocks, which seemed to have taken the brunt of her weight. Yet Flannery held her resolve and tried to avoid putting too much pressure on any one part of her body, for trying to use her hands to scoot herself up the bed seemed more difficult than ever. It just made her hands slop into creamy mud all over again, slick and clinging, with no true ability to support herself anymore.

But she had to get up, somehow, her clothes clinging to her, acting like they were sinking into her body.

“Ugh!”

She wanted to snap something more about how gross it all was, frustration bubbling away like her temper. She was impulsive, that was true, yet the weight of her melting, wet body forced her to move agonisingly slowly, managing to sit upright and move her legs over the edge of the bed. Yet it didn’t feel like she contracted any muscles to do so, but more slopped and heaved her body over to the left, letting the weight of her legs drip off the bed. The floor was a saving grace, holding her feet in place, though her calves seemed to sink, like they were going to drool right off her body.

Whether it was reality or a dream, Flannery vowed to shake it all off. She grunted in the back of her throat and tried to ignore how real words wouldn’t flow from her lips, her tongue softening in her mouth even though she seemed to have more substance to it. If she pressed it to the roof of her mouth, however, the pressure made it squash and melt, the point she applied pressure to flattening out. The biting tingles, however, as her tongue moulded back to its usual shape, made her skull ache horribly.

You’ve got to stand.

_ _

Flannery tried to stand, as if she was sliding her weight forward, knees bending but not bowing. Her body ached as she groaned and tried to adjust the point of balance in her hips, settling there. Yet her feet melted and squashed quickly into the floor and she lurched forward, sliding her deformed, misshapen feet across the floor. Her nightshirt pulled down into her shoulders, though her body swayed and flexed in a way it should never have done.

In an odd way, as she ground her feet forward over the floor, strings of herself left behind as they crawled and stretched to “keep up” with her slow, shuffling gait, it was as if she had slime under her mud-like skin. Her muscles had to be there, surely, for she could still move, but the feel of them contracting simply no longer existed.

Her room seemed like a cavern, a desert she had to cross with her teeth gritted, every step forcing her body to a new high of strain. Trying to raise her feet from the ground only resulted in too much weight being put on the other foot that she was straining to balance on, shaking and trembling for balance as if she was a willow wavering in the wind. Flannery whimpered, her feet aching as she turned back to sliding them forward, though it was hardly comfortable either.

Nothing was comfortable. Not at all, not as she felt quite as if she was grinding off layers of her feet with every step – if it could even be called that. She huffed for breath, yet the need for such a thing didn’t even seem to exist anymore. There was no desire to breathe in her and she didn’t strain for a gulp of air, which was kind of nice even if the reflex and habit was still there.

What about if I hold on to the wall?

_ _

That was a little easier for her as she tried not to put too much weight on her right shoulder, using the wall that was behind her bed to guide her to the door. Yet it took too long, her shoulder and arm melting against the wall as she slid and slopped her way along, though any parts of her that deformed came back together when she paused. The itching ache of reforming seemed to spread through her too aggressively, however, taking up too much of her attention.

Thinking about her body, how she wanted it to be, didn’t help any. She simply wasn’t in control of how her body formed and deformed, as if every second forced her through a kind of transformation. Was that like a Pokemon’s Transform move, perhaps? It was not something she had ever expected to experience as a trainer, of course, much less a gym leader.

Thinking about things like that, training Pokemon and her life as a gym leader, calmed her a little, though the flutter of anxiety in the pit of her stomach was not all that helpful in steadying her nerves. But it was all just so inconvenient! Why was it her that was falling apart like that?

Was it a reflection of how she was tackling life? Or maybe it was not as deep as that… She had always been fiery, yet to feel the weight of the world around her and her own form didn’t seem natural to her. Her body had been so lithe, so agile – and she’d trained just as hard as her Pokemon!

With the reality of her situation sinking in, Flannery fought not to grind her teeth together. It wasn’t as if her body was going to hold the form or the shape of them if she applied that manner of pressure, so she forced herself to relax. That was easier said than done as she slipped her way to the door, fighting the urge to grunt in the back of her throat as she reached her bedroom door.

Now, that was going to be a challenge, even if Flannery was not all that sure whether she was going to make it out of her room or not. Where the heck was she even going? She took a breath, feeling her chest push out against her shirt, but it didn’t help her feel more grounded in her body in the slightest.

The door handle needed to be pressed down to let her out of her room, but she was fortunate that it was a little weak and old. It took little pressure to release – but that may as well have been one-hundred-kilos of force being applied for all it mattered to her body at that time. Flannery tried to curl her fingers around it, though they formed a sort of claw-like shape, like her joints didn’t want to bend anymore. In fact, her whole finger bent around, curling rather than acting at the joints, as she tested out the handle.

“Oof…”

She rested her tongue against her lower lip as she tried to work the handle. Flannery moaned as the handle slipped from her, her hand deforming around the handle and sucking her to it as strings of mud-like substance pulled out between her hand and the door handle. Pausing while her feet deformed (but she felt a little more like she could deal with that), she tried to put more force down over the handle, turning the handle down.

It was hard and terrifyingly slow, making her wonder, if only for a little while, if she could ever do anything like that ever again – or if she’d be stuck forever in a mud-like body that wanted to deform whenever any pressure was put on it? Would she even end up trapped in her room, no longer able even to find her way out, to live her life as she had? What about her Pokemon training?

No, no. Flannery forced herself to be sensible, though her frustration bubbled and frothed within her. I can’t think like that.

_ _

Her hand deformed too much and she was forced to retract a little, to wait as her body strung out, flexing and straining. The stretch ached through her and she tried to wiggle her fingers, striving to be rid of the discomfort through any means possible. Yet it was not hers to control and she shuffled, her feet squishing and deforming under her, hating the fact she was trying to stay steady on them even then.

Would it help if she put gloves on? But that was hardly the sort of thing she kept around her room! Why would she need gloves when she was working with fire-type Pokemon? It wasn’t something that ever needed to come into play, considering she didn’t need to stay warm around them.

There were those yellow, fireproof gloves I had for handling Slugma though…

_ _

Maybe that would be an idea another time and she shuddered bodily, though the odd ripple that ran through her seemed out of place in the moment.

“Agh!”

She slipped, her feet too deformed to hold her steady as she collapsed, splattering to the ground in a puddle of her own body. Her head tipped back, so she was looking at the ceiling, her body bending and flexing like rubber, unable to hold or support herself in any way. Her arms went out, behind her body, but she simply bent into a curve, wobbling lightly back and forth. Yet her hands deformed into puddles of goo with sloppy, slippery stubs, giving her nothing to use to grip or hold on to anything with, forcing her to be patient.

Slumping to the ground, Flannery fought the urge to whine and sigh: it wouldn’t help her. Her shirt sank into her body and her shoulders and biceps churned against them as her body ached and tingled deeply, the biting snap of her body reforming hardly pleasant in the slightest. She twisted and slopped back down, her body all a mess of bent and deforming limbs, parts of her body going in directions they really should never have been.

Yet she reformed still as her body rose, slowly gaining more substance, though seconds seemed to stretch out for her just like hours. Flannery, however, had to push down her own frustration to let her body do what it needed to do, for trying to wiggle and shift constantly wasn’t going to do her any favours.

Her body made a wet, slick noise as she reformed too, as if she was being sucked back together. Flannery laughed inwardly, though without humour, at all the times people had told her to pull herself together. She’d often had her emotions close to the surface, not knowing how to manage and regulate herself – but a part of that was her affinity for fire-type Pokemon. With her, it didn’t tend to come out in anger, but she felt it more deeply, as if she was more sensitive to the world around her than others.

Her ankles bent as soon as she tried to put too much weight on them, her body stringing back together again, thighs smoothing out, though clambering up on to her knees was not the best idea. In the end, she had to lean over, forming from the feet up, and let her torso and arms hang, though her bendy, stretchy body was not all that amenable to standing all the way up.

The handle, however, proved easier to deal with – or maybe she just got lucky. She managed to use what should have been the heel of her hand to bear down on it, though using her weight for such a thing was not possible. Flannery had to take greater care, applying no more force than was absolutely necessary, so she could stop her body from deforming too swiftly.

As the handle clicked down and the door swung open, she took a breath. That was better, though she didn’t know where she was going, perhaps to check her Pokemon items downstairs in her training room. There could be something there to help her, but Flannery hardly honestly thought a Potion or even a Full Heal was going to help her in the slightest. It would be better to be around her usual training equipment, however, from the swinging boxing bag that was heavy duty enough to take hits and kicks, to the stone balls she used to train herself and her Pokemon in a more functional fashion. Training Pokemon was more than refining moves, after all.

That gave her a focus and more determination as she huffed and remembered just in time not to twist her lips. Forming expressions felt wrong, like a cool, pushing sensation was spreading through her face – kind of like being numb. She took a deeper breath, testing how her shirt moved and pulled over her chest and her shoulders. Flannery was solid enough that it sat on her body, but a part of her didn’t want it there.

She’d worn shorts to sleep in, though her feet were, of course, bare. There was no underwear underneath, but she didn’t usually bother with it to sleep: too warm. Her clothes shifted on her body, taking on more and more moisture from her body until they hung heavily on her, sodden and soaked. They made it even harder to move and she shifted sluggishly, her body bending and swaying as she folded to the ground. But she had to get somewhere, had to do something, for there was simply no other option for her.

Yet out in the hallway it was warmer and she fought off a shiver as she felt her body getting softer and softer. Flannery gasped and tried to crawl down the upstairs hallway, heart hammering – or, at least, she swore she had that kind of sensation in her chest, like it was pounding there but not really at the same time. But sliding and trying to crawl down the hallway would not do her any favours as she put too much pressure on her hands and knees, the sloppy puddles of her joints trying to sink and spread out.

“Oof…”

Flannery let out a soft pant, shaking her head a little, though all she managed was a light tilt of her head back and forth. Standing helped her regain her sense of balance, her body aching, but her clothes were no longer “hers” – or at least present on her body.

Flannery tired not to wriggle too much as she leaned back and tried to press her body back together, squeezing her torso with her hands even as they deformed. She tried to push her body into shape, even as parts of her strung out thickly, like pliable ropes that stretched out and out, but her T-shirt slipped through her, even the pressure of the wet fabric enough to draw it through her body.

That brought her back to the ground all over again in a swaying splatter, though all parts of her body slunk back together again, aching and cramping while she reformed. Her shorts drew through her with a slick, almost slurping sensation, although Flannery had not even considered such a thing a sensation until that very moment. Her upper legs couldn’t take the weight of them as she tried to wait it out on all fours, simply falling right through her and taking her thighs and buttocks with them.

Even though there was still easy definition to her body there, when she was fully formed, she tumbled down, her body breaking apart even as any separated body parts immediately flung out strings of thick goo, trying to cling back into her body. She groaned, sliding down on her front to lay there, letting it all happen. That seemed easier in the moment, but there was still only so much Flannery could do.

The aching resounded through her, still feeling any body parts as she was broken apart, like they were still a part of her despite everything. Her chest pounded strangely, reverberations rolling through her as if her body, even then, was vibrating. Another kind of energy coursed through her as she reformed, her shirt having fallen all the way through her neck and chest, feeling her shoulders mould back into shape and her breasts soften still. As she was laying on them, at the very least, they flattened under her bodyweight, but they weren’t a part of her Flannery was worried in the slightest about. They would come back together when she was upright again.

That time, even devoid of her clothes, she managed to stand, taking her time. Her body deformed when she put too much pressure on it, but she allowed those parts to reform and shifted her weight to other parts. From her hands to her knees and then up to her feet, ankles bending shockingly, she steadied herself and stood up, though her feet melted under her weight.

She stepped down the hallway, slowly taking a step with her foot reforming while the other one deformed. It was horrifyingly slow and very much not a pace she had ever walked or moved, always wanting to be in motion, action, anything.

A large mirror in the hallway – it was an old familiar home that still had some traditional features to it – beckoned her, although Flannery almost didn’t want to look at her body, not like that. Would she even recognise herself?

Anxiety twisted with frustration inside her, bubbling and heating, like a fire was snarling to a roaring blaze. But she couldn’t let it best her, not even as her body slowly came into view, moving somewhat more freely without her clothes. Maybe even those had been weighing her down, but she didn’t like to think about it like that. They were a part of her, after all, and how she saw herself, for it was hardly as if she usually went around naked.

The hallway closet stood behind her with outdoor clothing and she made a mental note to check it for gloves, even though Flannery was still in the process of trying to take in her own body, her visage. Her gaze swept down from her head, where her hair stuck out in its normal style, lightly moving with the shift of her body – but more like it was stiffer rubber. There was still some flex to her hairstyle, but her body look like firm mud.

It looked slightly slick as she reached a hand up to brush her fingers against the line of her jaw. As long as she was gentle enough, she didn’t deform her fingers with the action and wiggled them experimentally, testing out the limits of what she was capable of.

Opening her mouth, she checked out her tongue and lips, even her teeth, but they all had that strangely mud-like consistency to them. Her tongue was able to move lightly around her mouth without deforming, but she was sure that she would depress it again if she put it between her lips or similar.

She turned sideways, so her body was viewed from another angle, the swell of her breasts large and firm. There were no cracks in her body, which made her feel whole in a way, but, as she turned back to face the mirror fully, she ran her gaze down her stomach to her sex.

Everything there seemed to be fully formed and she stood, oddly, with her legs slightly apart, bending over as her feet deformed faintly. But Flannery wasn’t focused on them right then and there, the painful, wracking cramps something she could put to the back of her mind, allowing herself to press on.

Her hands ghosted faintly down her body, across her thighs, shivering at the sensation. Yet her body held its form, more or less, even if she managed better by shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Slipping her fingers between her thighs and further back, she played them over her pussy and her anal ring, surprised to find everything still as soft and as detailed as it was. Her folds spread lightly as she pressed a finger between them rather boldly, her body begging attention as she groaned.

“Ohhh…”

Even the sound came from her a little more clearly that time as she let her finger curl up inside her, entering her pussy. It was wrong and it was right and her body ached with desire from that mere touch alone.

She panted heavily, working out her new body, thinking of how she wanted it to look and how it was supposed to feel. That helped at least somewhat and she gradually felt increasingly like she was stroking herself, keeping her form together without coming apart at the seams. But the heat of her body, lust, swelling through her was too much for Flannery to take and she whipped her hand away, her chest shuddering as if she was breathing more heavily.

With greater control over her hands, she squeezed up the opposing arm with each hand, feeling how her body moved with such greater flexibility, without the limits of joints. Her body “squashed” under her hands, with her skin remaining rigid and firm, elastic as it should have been.

“Weird…”

Flannery slurred the word somewhat but it didn’t matter as she briefly eyed up the thick strings of her hair, a hand drifting, almost too casually, to her breasts. They were fully formed and smooth, her flesh indenting slightly as she focused on the tip of a finger, how it pressed into her body and sweeping tingles pulled through her.

How was she so sensitive? She’d never been that sensitive to touch before, or so she thought, and let her fingers roam, prickling tenderly over her nipples and then weeping down the front of her body again, back to her pussy. Her sex ached for attention and she no longer felt numb, especially as exhilaration coursed through her, throbbing as if there was still some manner of blood flow in her body.

Maybe there was or maybe there wasn’t, but she couldn’t hold back as she reached behind her, still watching her form shift and twist in the mirror, to push her hands down her buttocks. They swept over what had been muscle, but had more “give” to it as she squeezed them, relishing strangely in how different her form was. Could weakness be a strength, even in a mud-like body? People said fire-type Pokemon were “powder kegs” and liable to explode at any given moment, not holding all that much defence, typically, in them. She could work with that…maybe.

She couldn’t resist exploring her new body, however, enjoying it a little too much how her form shifted and swayed in the mirror before her. Flannery would have turned on the light if she had wanted to break from the moment, but the trainer could not bring herself to do so as she groped her breasts and played with different levels of pressure, squeezing them until her fingers and hands squidged into melted mud. They did not entirely deform, however, for it seemed her body was on the same page as her, for once, when it came to pleasures of the body.

So, that was exactly where Flannery could indulge, panting lightly and rocking her hips forward as she rubbed her tits and let her hands sweep over her sensitive nipples. Every hint of ecstasy bloomed through her, though it was like a wave of water: swiftly gone. She groaned, wanting more, and fingered her pussy, two digits more boldly plunging between her folds and finding her entrance exactly as it was.

“Ohhh…”

Flannery moaned as she shoved more and more of her hand inside her, wanting it. Yet her eyes kept flicking up to the mirror, the dim light of the moon and stars through the hallway windows filtering in. The tease of illumination gave her body an almost ghostly appearance, like she was a spirit taking leave of the moment for something more erotic still.

It was easier to lean into that moment, bending over as her hair stayed more or less in place, no longer obeying the laws of gravity or acting as it should have, but she didn’t care about that in the moment. She couldn’t, not as her fingers folded together and she pushed more and more of her hand greedily up inside her. Flannery twisted her arm, wanting more, but she couldn’t bring herself to grind around like that even though she was sure her arm could have rotated the whole way if she’d wanted it to.

Her hand ground up inside her as she squeezed luxuriously around it, grunting in the back of her throat and letting herself enjoy the moment. For what else could there be as she rolled her hips and let herself sink into it, pleasure warming her through. It rolled through her like ripples across a muddy pool, but it was not the time to look for ways in which to understand her new body.

It was all about pleasure as she rocked her weight on her mildly deforming feet, for she couldn’t keep her attention on them to form them, no matter how much she wanted to be whole. Flannery balanced, though her legs bent forward in a smooth curve as she did her best to balance herself, letting her body do it wanted more naturally. She moaned as she worked her hand back and forth, squeezing her pussy around her arm, but all she could do was explore and see what worked.

Everything… Flannery groaned and let herself languish there, even though she shouldn’t have been as well-balanced as she was when she was leaning forward that much. However, she managed just about well enough and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, almost feverish with her moulded, sculpted mud-body there for her attention in the best of ways.

So, maybe whatever had happened to her was not so much of a bad thing, even if she had not been expecting it in the slightest. Flannery groaned and trembled, her entire body vibrating as lust flared within her, but it was never to be contained. Not as orgasm took her, her body no longer able to properly contract, to the previous extent, around her arm, though she fist fucked her soft, pliable body with more desire than she ever had.

It slammed into her and took her as she fought not to tip forward against the mirror, bliss rolling through her, though she was right where she wanted to be. It could have been all worth it for ecstasy, just like that, and her legs quivered, as if even holding her weight up to that extent was going to be a challenge. Yet she managed, coming down too quickly and withdrawing her hand, though her pussy moulded simply back into the shape it took naturally.

Flannery jolted, her body tingling in the aftershocks, as she came down from her high, but it took a moment for her to realise what was happening. A resounding din echoed through her home, the kind of noise she wasn’t supposed to be able to linger around, though the water hitting her body pitted it instantly.

The fire alarm!

_ _

She was sure there wasn’t a fire there, but she couldn’t make her body go back together, not even as she thought hard about it. The water was too much as she turned and stumbled on one weakened foot, ankle bending at a horrific angle.

“No!”

The cry broke damply from her lips as she tried to press on, but it was no use. There was simply nowhere Flannery could get to in time as her body melted, becoming softer as it broke apart in big chunks, though the cramping did not return that time. After all, she couldn’t reform when there was so much water coming down, trying to put out a fire that was not even there, and she slumped to the ground in a puddle of her own body.

Her vision faded as her eyes melted too, though the horror of it all ached deeply through her as she lost consciousness. Which was all for the better as she fell apart, her body no longer hers to do with as she willed and needed, even if she had gained the ability to control her reformation. Holding herself together would take a lot more time to master – but Flannery had more than enough time for that.

Her body dispersed, washing apart with the water pouring over her, but it was not as if she was really going anywhere. Whatever reason her weakened body had for breaking apart like that would all come to be seen in good time, but Flannery would pull herself together again when she could.

*

“Ah!”

She blinked. Where was she? Suddenly, she was no longer in the hallway upstairs in her home but outside, on her back. Trees stretched weakly above her, though they were sparse, a mud pit cool under her back that felt like something of a relief even then. She sighed, wanting to settle back into it, holding her form as she swilled her arms languidly through the mud, relishing in the feeling, even if it was only for a little while, of being whole again.

The mud held her together as she sat up, though she felt weaker the further she moved from it – even in the process of merely sitting up. Flannery turned her head slowly from one side to the other, seeing only trees, and sighed.

I have to get home again…even like this.

_ _

Cursed. Weak. Mud. Flannery was not herself and she’d have to live with that as she slowly stood, using the strength of the mud as a base to hold up her new body. Of course, she was naked, but she had little say in that, however the heck she had ended up out there.

Whether her body was breaking apart or melting, she would find a way to break the “curse,” if that was what it even was, for Flannery was anything but a quitter. But maybe she’d have to cool the fire inside her, appreciating slowness and stillness in life in the meantime.

Flannery sighed.

This is going to be a challenge.

_ _

And she’d meet it head on.