Artist's Change
"Aw, Jamie. Do you mean to tell me that I spent all night working on this picture and you won't even take five seconds to glance at it?" Jason took a quick, sharp look at Jamison Voorhees. He sighed as he saw Jamie's quick look back at him, indicating that Jason's late night had been spent drawing this picture was a waste of time.
He sighed and looked around the room at all the rest of Jamie's clients. Jason couldn't believe the talent that was on his wall. Imitators and original artists alike that were all very different; some tried to imitate Van Gogh, others the Mona Lisa (albeit with various modern touches to its classic design), and some were abstract. He, on the other hand, was a hopeful artist looking to go mainstream with his works. Jason sighed, hating that he was usually rejected for his works. Always the standard reasons too, he knew: he wasn't Picasso-great, he didn't have a Confederate-era mustache, and he was one of those free-thinkers who didn't draw buildings and apples in bowls. Not to mention, he thought as he stared hard at his picture, all the racial tension in lower Chicago. That was why he couldn't get into the art clubs there, and he'd long since given up.
"All's I'm sayin' Jason is that you gotta have spirit and that little kick in each picture. And I've seen your work," Jamison straightened his tie and smoothed his jacket before continuing, "And you have spirit, but you just don't interest me with this... what did you call it again?"
"A fursona, sir. The furry fandom? I'm sure you saw that one CSI episode when it came out. It didn't do the fandom justice in my opinion. In fact-"
"Jason... Jason..." he tried not to insult the poor guy, but the fact was he was an anti-fur. There was no way he was going to let this guy into his simply walk into his art gallery, even if he did look good in that suit and pitiful, poor smile. "No." He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, still speechless for words, "No, Jason. I can't accept this work. I mean look at it, the lines are too deep, and the coloring is almost comical. It's not... blended well enough. In fact, I'd say you would have a better job at a comic book dealer with this picture than your local art galleries. Did you really think you were going to get anything with this piece?" Jason could tell that Jamison was holding back the last bit of sentence just by hearing the inflection of the words. He knew that Jamie was not calling it a "piece" but a "piece of shit."
Jason sighed and took a look at the piece before he began to pack his bag up again, heading out the door and towards the entrance to the art gallery. He scowled at the sign, "Voorhees Fine Arts" and practically shook a fist at it in true disdain. "Hah, ‘Fine Art?' You want fine, you're missing out." He pushed himself out the door and headed towards his car. That was when his stomach growled angrily for food. He patted his belly just before opening the car door and chuckled, "Alright, boy. Downtown's got to have something we can buy you. Just don't eat me first." He instantly shook his head, figuring on how crazy talking to his own stomach must have looked out in the parking lot, at least for a guy his size.
He didn't know what to eat, however, and instantly after finally getting his car started, which he reminded himself he needed to get that oil changed, turned out of the parking lot and headed left as he headed for the pizza place nearest to him. He wanted to get himself a deep dish today, but he remembered he didn't want to overeat. Jason turned into the pizza parlor and got out of his car, still listening to the angry stomach growling for food. He patted it again and walked into the place, which seemed unusually crowded for the time of day. He turned and found a place in the far back for a private seat in the back. He hadn't talked to his friends today, so meeting them for pizza was out of the question, or at least his stomach would not let him wait.
The waitress came by and smiled at him as he placed his order, just his usual deep dish favorite, and water for a drink. As he sat alone at the table, he pulled out the picture he'd drawn. Usually he didn't consider himself a worthy artist for a gallery, let alone something to much more classical and rich with culture, as he figured his works usually didn't include these things. However, looking at this picture now, he knew it was worthy of something better than a simple posting on FA.
This picture was of his fursona, a wolf/bear combination that was slightly smaller than he was, in mid-transformation from his human self. His love for transformation artwork was unprecedented, but it was what he prided himself on. He couldn't believe that he'd already spent fifty hours on his artwork, and nearly double that being rejected for submission to any place. The work, while being a "clean" submission for FA's guidelines was rather odd to him now. He couldn't recall why he'd made a picture of himself eating a pizza and in mid-change. His bear muzzle and wolf ears had formed, as well as the tail making an almost-embarrassing rip out of his behind, the left paw formed and the right hand not too far behind it. Shoes were crowded visibly in the artwork, the paws ready to burst free, and the look on his face, while typical for surprise seen in most of Jason's artwork, was almost eerie now. The eyes, with their Mona Lisa position as no matter how you look at the picture the eyes are looking back but away too, were locked on the viewer in utter surprise as if to say, "Hey look at this! This is really happening while I'm eating!" And the pizza in the right hand was barely held to the piece in his new muzzle by the strands of cheese connecting the pieces. It was colored in his trademark style, and he was satisfied with the subtle shading techniques he'd learned how to apply to make it seem less comical and more realistic in appearance. He found it odd that he was actually drawing these things in such a manner lately, all the people transforming were in formal suits, like the one in this picture.
As the waitress brought him his water he took a sip of it and sighed shaking his head as he continued to admire his piece. He'd given it a name when he posted it on FA, "Xids to Xids." It wasn't very creative in terms of title, but it reminded him of the Dustin Hoffman movie Kramer vs. Kramer. He sipped the water again, slightly wishing to himself that, "If only Xids was the real thing. I'd show that Voorhees guy just what art really is." And chuckled, knowing he'd never actually kill the guy, but jokingly in his mind he pictured the guy scared shitless just from him walking into the room.
As he daydreamed of his slightly twisted revenge, he smelled the pizza on its way to him, and his mouth salivated at the thought of food, his ears perked up and looked over at the waitress coming out with the food, a smile creeping on his face and he couldn't resist the temptation to go ahead and prepare the table for the pizza on its way to him. When it was finally brought to him, he leaned in and sniffed the delicious pizza, feeling his stomach growling, once again in a way that seemed to convey a message, "Okay, you've had your turn, let me have mine," and Jason obeyed all too eagerly, picking up the first piece of the pizza and taking a bite out of it.
That was when a sudden jolt burst through his mind. He abruptly felt different all over his body, and he glanced down, still holding the pizza in his mouth, yet to remove it from his mouth or pull the piece in his mouth down into his stomach. Something was wrong. The skin on his arms seemed to ripple and wave, like a field of grain in the summer winds, except he knew his skin wasn't supposed to do that. And without hesitation, or a second thought, he knew it was fur. A dark brown fur on his arms began coursing through the skin and out into the open air, covering the skin completely eventually. That was his fur, and it didn't take a genius to realize that somehow he was turning into his fursona, or at least that was his first instinctive hope. He couldn't believe the idea of just simply turning into a fursona offline was something that could happen. He eagerly swallowed the bite of pizza and went to take another, glad that at this angle in the pizza parlor nobody could see him changing. His muscles shook and trembled with a growing change as well, fitting newer shapes on his bones, which were forcefully changed as well, providing a slight discomfort in his left hand, then his right, as he watched the fingers thicken considerably and shrink somewhat, but remain just as strong. He watched the claws and pads grow on the left paw, and his right followed suit.
He was only able to pull the piece of pizza away from his mouth, strands of thick, gooey cheese trailing with the pizza as he pulled it away, but also he felt something else. His face was contorting, a great discomfort followed by a couple of sharp painful releases of tension which made him wince with surprise, as his new bear muzzle shot straight out in front of him, filled with longer canines and more carnivore-oriented teeth, despite the fact that he knew bears were closer to omnivores than carnivores. The nose at the end tickled him as it grew slightly wet and his scent, which he was suddenly aware of with several other new scents, became heavy in the nose. He almost felt overwhelmed by the new wave of smells, but when his eyes became a deep blue color. He felt the new sights enter his mind, things he was never aware of before were suddenly crystal clear and sharp, and his new, almost triangular ears shifted to the top of his head, increasing his hearing nearly ten-fold. The taste of the pizza was amazing and exploding with new flavors as he eagerly swallowed it. He was only happily enjoying these new changes before he felt his hair become an annoying nuisance.
Wait a minute, his mind thought gently reeling back with surprise, when did his hair become an issue? He pulled down a short lock in front of his face, as the fur on his face grew in a lighter brown, with a couple of brown triangular markings on his face and a stripe covering the top of his muzzle grew in, the goatee he so carefully kept trim as a human disappearing completely from view in the process. He could tell his hair had styled itself back a little, but still stayed spiked, a nice orange color now.
The tail suddenly began to wriggle itself out of his backbone, growing and twisting to life as it shot straight out of the top of his pants, creating a little force that pushed the back of his pants down slightly and he had to readjust his butt in the seat. It was not very easy considering the tail seemed to have a life of its own, and he finally found the instinctive controls in his mind, slowing the tail's movements until it was fully under his control again, and that made sitting much easier for Jason. The paws on his hands were complete, but now his feet ached and burned as he felt them bunching up in his shoes, and instantly burst out of them, the new hind paws growing their claws as well. Jason was surprised that nobody had heard this as he looked around the parlor, not seeing anyone hearing or seeing these changes that rapidly happened to him.
The suit was almost unbearably tight on him now, and he got up to go to the bathroom, which was luckily a skip away across the aisle. In the bathroom, he luckily was alone. He couldn't help but notice instantly how much like his fursona he now was. In fact he looked so much like the picture he had just finished looking over it was amazing. He grinned, almost scaring himself with how much scarier it looked in real life than on paper, the bear and wolf features not fit to a more comical style like he was used to drawing, but more towards a reality that he still lived in.
That was when he got the thought again. He knew that Jamie would freak out, and after the way Jason was treated at the art gallery, he knew it was time to get his revenge. He grinned even wider as he hurriedly escaped out the back door of the pizza place and back to his car, making sure nobody saw him so as not to let anyone freak out and cause a panic. He hurried into his car, which seemed different, more accustomed to his new form before he started it up and began to head back to the art gallery.
As he arrived at the art gallery, he savored the fact that his clothes had, at some point, grown to fit his form again, much like the suit should've fit him in the first place as a human, shoes and all. Xids, that was his new name he thought to himself, walked into the art gallery and looked around for Jamison Voorhees. There wasn't much of a waste of time finding him; he was right in the front of the gallery, admiring a genuine copy of "The Starry Night." The bear/wolf now stealthily approached Jamison, but he apparently heard the person behind him approach anyways, and without hesitation growled frustrated.
He hated that so many people had come to submit their works to the gallery today, especially that one guy Jason. He didn't like the guy at all, and in fact he couldn't even remember his last name anymore. It wasn't even important to him though, that furry was not going to get his less-than-mediocre art put in his high-standard, high-class art gallery. He simply sighed in frustration once again before replying heatedly, "Sorry, but we're not accepting any more submissions today."
Xids spun Jamison around, who got more than an eyeful of this bear/wolf and surprised he stammered out, "Oh... uh... you look like you have some great stuff potential though." The fact that he was inhuman bothered him, but the angered look on Xids' face, as well as the fist he had, the other paw grasped tightly around that collar he had iron-pressed, scared him. "Do you have any submissions for me to look over?"
Xids growled angrily as he stared Jamie down, "Yeah, submit this!" And he swung his fist.
~~~
The thunder rumbled through the night air, and Xids opened the door to his penthouse in lower Manhattan. It had been a rough day in town, especially getting from his penthouse to the art gallery in upper Manhattan. Thunderstorms, gridlock, crowded parking lots and even a broken elevator to add some more hassle. It was a bit disrupting in his usual busy day-in, day-out routine. He finally had more artwork to submit to the gallery he owned. He closed the door and shook some of the rain out of his thick fur coat, then removed the coat to rub his furry arms a bit.
"Hehe, I need to invest in better coats." He thought to himself as he stared at the fur coat that usually women are associated with wearing rather than men. But he had bought it only three weeks ago, just to flaunt his curves and seem more like some five-star pimp than a five-million-dollar-a-year furry artist. He stopped at that number, blinked at the sudden realization, and then closed his eyes in remembrance.
It had been ten years ago since he had gone to that art gallery in Chicago to deposit his furry work in the tacky gallery that had refused him. Ten years ago since he had gone to that pizza parlor and changed into his online fursona Xids. It had been ten years since he had hit it big in the mainstream after that snobby artist-ignorant Jamison had been taken care of, and the art was placed for all to see. But he knew that it had been both a gift and a curse.
The days after he had put his artwork for all to see had caused him great success, a quick and easy rise to fame. His artwork, while not understood for the simple fact it was just for entertainment and a basic story behind the occasional picture, was praised for its combination of animals and humans into one rapid, violent merging. It was seen as a new art movement, one with a message. It screamed, "It's time for change" to the world, and the world listened. He was given the highest honors, and the highest paychecks, for months on end after that first posted submission, enough to get out of his shitty townhouse in Chicago, trading his life up for something much grander, more extraordinarily wealthy in Manhattan five years ago. He had been seen as gifted, as a visionary, and as a monster. Nobody understood why he was a bear-wolf now, but soon they would.
After a sudden rise in popularity in his works, many people flocked to view the works Xids had, and his highly-praised images of a global movement in art. It was even more than that, though, because soon more and more reports of anthropomorphic humans were growing like an epidemic across the world. The reason was difficult to determine, but it finally became easily discovered. The artwork that was so revolutionary, so popular, had the power to grant wishes within its colors and lines. His viewers would go see his artwork, seeing his creatures in their unnatural states of change, and wish for the same to happen to them. And it did.
So two years ago, he locked himself away in Manhattan to protect himself from being eaten alive and harassed by the media, the critics, and the fans alike. His rapid influx of artwork and submissions to the galleries in New York all but ceased to exist. It was so highly demanded for weeks afterwards that people tried to stalk him with Google Earth, GPS systems, and even undercover lovers wanting more of his art to steal. Xids had fallen prey to a lover like that only once before, and all of his stuff had been gone the next morning, even a chunk of his left cheek, giving him a decent slit for a scar on his cheek now. He thought it looked distinguished, but it was a painful reminder that he was an unwilling visionary to the masses with his artwork, even if those masses were now mostly real-life furs instead of the online furs he was so used to being near for years. Now when he thought of humans to draw, he found it increasingly difficult, since so many people were no longer human. It had been his gift, and his curse.
Here and now, though, in his nearly-silent penthouse, he found himself walking into the sunken living room off to the right. He plopped down in the dark red leather chair and smiled a little to himself, glad to be home. The panoramic view was amazing from the 30th floor of the building, and he got a good view of Central Park from where he was at, even if it was a bit distant still. He looked at his gold Rolex and saw that it was only ten past ten. He breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes laying back on the couch. What a long day.
He was awaken by a ring, then another ring. Somebody at the door? No, he opened his eyes and looked around. The phone rang again. He growled and groaned out of his sleep and rubbed his eyes, the phone ringing again. He picked up the phone and hit the talk button, shaking his wrist to get a better glance at the time on his watch. Five past two.
"Hello?" came the groggy, growl-in-your-throat voice. Even after ten years of having to get used to being a bear-wolf like he was, Xids was always surprised at how dominant and deep his voice was in this tone. It always made him feel unfriendly how he talked in this voice.
"Mr. Xids? It's the front desk down in the lobby. I have somebody here who says he wants to see you." came the voice on the other end of the line, a human named Bobby Kennedi. It made Xids chuckle at the timidity and meekness of somebody who almost shared a name with a famous politician.
"Is he aware of what time it is, Bobby?" That voice sounded a bit better, more friendly, but confused. It was two in the morning and there was a guy that needed to see him? What the hell was this guy's problem?
"Mr. Xids, he says it is very important. He says he needs to speak with you on urgent matters. Can you please spare him a few moments? He said he only needs five minutes." What was Bobby doing, trying to sell this guy like he would sell things telemarketing? "He says his name is Cole Winters."
Did he just say Cole Winters? The former boss he had back in Chicago? That was weird that Cole would need to see him at this hour, but what would the business be? He rubbed his eyes some more and straightened his position on the couch as he looked around. "Uh, sure. Send him up with a key please. Tell him to let himself in. I'll be in the shower." Xids said, now fully awake. Bobby replied that he would, "Thank you Bobby." Xids hung the phone up and got off the couch, turning to head towards the bathroom hidden in the master bedroom. He walked through the bedroom and then shook his head as he tried to think what Cole would need with him.
He didn't have to wait too long after his shower for the answer. He came out of the shower, drying his fur off with a towel, while wrapped around his waist was another one in a complimentary purple. He looked around the bedroom for a bathrobe, but Cole was standing illuminated in darkness in the doorway. Now that he was a bigger bear-wolf, Cole seemed... diminutive at best. He looked around almost as if he expected more than Cole to be there.
"Good morning, Jason. I trust life has been treating you well?" came Cole's effeminate, high-pitched voice. He didn't await the answer, "Of course it has, you're rich and famous now."
Xids looked for his bathrobe, slightly distracted with this task as he responded a little distantly, "So to what do I owe this lovely visit, Cole? Did you come to appreciate my art like everyone else in the world? Give me ideas for what to draw? Pay me to draw a sequence or ten for you? Turn you into an animal?" Xids was a bit jaded, and a little more aggravated with each new question he asked, more frustrated at not finding his robe and the absurdity of the questions he was asking than at Cole himself.
Cole flicked on the bedroom light, illuminating the room with a bright white glow that made Xids momentarily stagger backwards with the bright light nearly blinding him. When he looked up, he saw Cole in his light blue robe, or at least his light blue robe wrapped around Cole. He definitely didn't fit it well, but his nice golden tan and light blonde hair and baby blue eyes all seemed to suggest he hadn't changed a bit since their last encounter. He looked around and began to admire the room with his eyes before closing the bedroom door and approaching Xids, who was starting to get a little wary of his ex-boss' approach.
"Actually, yes. I'd like to get something from you." Cole nearly sneered out his words, but then stopped just short of Xids' reach. He continued a little more sadly, "Moira and Chuck are gone, Jason. They died in a car crash three years ago. I heard that people that view your artwork can change anything they wish. I went to your exhibit in Chicago a few months ago, and I wished for them to come back-"
"Cole, you didn't-" Xids tried to get out, but he was rebuffed.
"-And it didn't work out, Jason. They're still dead. So I wanted something from you in return."
"You're not making any sense. They died in a car crash, how is this involving me any?" Xids was increasingly more confused, disoriented now. Almost a little panicky, in fact, but he held it in as best he could.
"I realized that your pictures don't grant wishes if they're copies, but they work on originals. And I want you to give me one of your originals... so that I can have them back. Please... I'm begging you, Jason. Give me back my life." Cole was on his knees now, tears streaming from his eyes down his cheeks as he hoped to hear the right answer, the one that would bring happiness and joy back to his life.
"Cole... dude... no." He sighed as he pulled Cole up and sat him on the bed, trying his best to explain it. "There's no wishing power in my artwork. You can wish whatever you want, but all you're going to get is the body of a fur like everyone else, that's how it works. They're dead and they're not coming back, and no magic paintings are going to bring them back to you. I'm sorry for your loss, Cole, I really am, but I'm not God. I can't work magic and raise the dead."
Cole was in despair and tears, soaking that beautiful silk robe he wasn't supposed to be wearing. He couldn't stand the thought of going through life without Moira and Chuck any longer. He was ready to throw himself from the window, the anti-depressants had run out long before he had gotten to New York, and he was even worse without them. He looked into Xids' eyes almost pleading for a solution. A solution that he was sure Xids knew was there somehow, and it took Xids only a few mere moments to understand what he was going to have to do. He swallowed his pride and his pity, and then looked at Cole and put his shoulder on him.
"All I can do is make you forget your old life and give you a new one." He heard Cole whimper with a bit of fear at forgetting the rest of his life, but they both knew Cole would rather forget the emptiness without his family in the life he had now. He had to get past it with a newer, happier life. "All I have to do is get you to focus."
"Anything... just get rid of the emptiness and pain. Please." Cole sighed as he shuddered, cold even under the robe and trench coat he was wearing now over his standard suited outfit. Xids removed the robe from Cole and put it on himself, tying it up before going to think about removing the towel.
"All right, just listen to me then. I will paint you a picture of you in a happier place, a better life. Just imagine it for me then, okay?" Cole needed no further explanation and Xids took a few steps back and smiled, "Good.
"Now picture this: you're you, sitting on this bed, staring at me and listening to what I have to say. Focus on you as if you're looking at you from the front, and just imagine your body tingling, getting tighter and transforming into an animal-like creature. A tiger, big and strong, fiercely capable of taking care of yourself and your friends... and enemies." He smiled looking at Cole, watching him getting a growing bulge in his pants now. He always knew Cole was a closet fur and a closet homosexual. He intended to exploit both now. "Imagine yourself free and proud, and see yourself as the happy life you can lead as this tiger. No Moira, no Chuck. Just you and me in this room, our lives the only thing you can see now."
Sure enough, almost immediately, Xids' picture was painted clearly in Cole's mind, and the magic began to work its wonders on the man on the bed. The once-skinny man began to beef up, muscles upon muscles building on his body, giving him first a toned, then a thick, and finally a stocky build, which only tightened with his height growing up to nearly six-foot-three, and he began to purr out loud to himself. Xids was pleased to hear the purring more than anything, as it descended from an almost childish level to a lovely deep tenor that had a velvety smooth tone. When Cole opened his eyes, the pale blue eyes had deepened to an emerald green color, with specks of mint green around the center pupil which now had a cats-eye slit instead of a round dot.
The man now saw his fingernails retract fully into his skin, but the fingers thickened considerably and shortened slightly, and when he flexed his fingernails, he saw sharp black claws. Thick black pads formed on the fingers and palms of his hands, forming paw-like appendages. His feet did virtually the same thing, but they grew longer too, ripping out of his black boots, and snapping painlessly into a digitigrade stance. He needed this too as he leapt up suddenly, feeling his tail snake down his leg, towards the ground, and then thickened with stocky muscle as well, before the pants were ripped off as well, letting his new tail expose itself a bit more freely, and he quickly gained control of its movements as he grew an ever-larger smile, the happiness and fulfillment in life starting to sink in as the depression and emptiness faded.
"Yes... oh God, I need more, Jason. Please." Xids looked at him as if to tell him that he had all that he would need, if he focused more, with a gentle gaze. And Cole continued to imagine what was going on. The chest barreled out, pumped with a bit more lung capacity the purring grew louder now. When he heard his purring, he knew he was doing good so far in his changes, and Cole wanted even more. A painless, if discomforting series of snaps followed in his mouth and nose as the nose turned pink, fangs grew longer and sharper, then the mouth grew outwards into a thick, wide muzzle, a light trio of whiskers forming on both sides of his muzzle behind the nose, lips turning jet black and a bit leathery. The ears reformed atop his head a bit more triangular, facing the front.
Suddenly everything was clearer, sharper, and enhanced. Eyes could see in the dark perfectly, and for hundreds of feet more than before, more detailed than high-definition television. He heard more noises outside than inside, but both were nearly triple in number, and he could easily distinguish them all now. The diet was strictly carnivorous, and his mouth watered thinking of this delicious fact, but it was replaced by his sense of smell, and he could hear the boats out in the water surrounding Manhattan Island dumping their loads, many of them food, and the smells of them were strong and present in his mind. He purred a lot more relaxed than he had been.
To top off the changes, his fur raced across his skin like a wildfire, starting at all extremities and moving towards the center of the body. He was fully covered in orange fur, with a deep brown color for the stripes, instead of black, and his white underbelly had a light brown tint to it as well. His hair, which had stayed golden blonde, deepened to a golden brown, then a dark brown, growing longer towards his ears, straying down towards his shoulders, and becoming straight as an arrow, styling almost like an anime character would, sending a bit caressing past the left side of the face, almost emo-styled if it weren't for his hardened, badass face making the hairstyle seem a bit more like a young, if hot action star. His own body grew increasingly younger, down through the forties and thirties, towards his very early twenties.
His trench coat stayed the same, but became a sleek black leather, and a bit longer, more in tune with his size, and thus a little more accentuating his bulging muscles. He had black slacks that most suits usually came standard with, but again, fitting his muscles and his tail, a hole in the back of the pants ready to accept them. He also gained a black skin-tight muscle shirt above this, and he clearly showed that he looked good in black, custom-fit black boots on his hind feet, and a pair of shades over his eyes resting on his muzzle. He definitely looked good, and Xids almost expected the tiger to pull out a cigarette and light it, then start quoting Neo and Morpheus.
However, this didn't happen. What did happen was a whole new life of memories for this tiger. Finally the empty thoughts and lonely nights faded instantly out of his mind, replaced with ones of being tough as a kid, but friendly and nice to all he met as a teen, once he warmed up to most people. He was naturally strong, having no real need to work out his body since it was naturally fitted for these things. And not only that, but he was definitely gay now, and to prove this, Cole looked over at Xids and blushed almost like a little kid would, as his badass image didn't seem to allow it to look like anything else. He remembered Xids was his mate, and a gold band on his ring finger showed up to prove it, as did a brow piercing that Xids had persuaded him to get.
Xids, however, had not had the satisfaction of thinking of this would happen beforehand. Now, he felt himself also modifying to fit these new requirements, barely registering that he was now Cole's mate, and also about ten years younger, though nothing else seemed different about his life. In fact, he only gained the memories of being mated to Cole for Cole's benefit, and the age to fit Cole's more. His life as a human still remained burned in his mind, and the life he had led after that had been virtually untouched as well, save having mated Cole a year after becoming Xids. He looked at his mate, no longer Cole Winters, but Brax Ferais, the tiger. He hugged him tightly and smiled as the two embraced in a long, loving kiss and he looked at Brax, "So... can you picture all of that?" he finally asked.
Brax nodded and smiled with a purr as he hugged his mate, "Yes. I think I can."