Possum Curse

Story by nalldook on SoFurry

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A short fairy story for Thar, written in Nov 2019 -- a chance meeting with a grumpy opossum forest spirit leaves our protagonist as a feral possum! But adjusting is going to take some time, and learning, and hanging on for the ride... ^^


Paul had never been in the old forest after sunset, but he was very keen to try out the new night lens for his camera. He came here a great deal, but any familiarity he had with this route was lost in the darkness, where nothing quite looked how it did in the light. The moon was nearly full, keeping watch, moving in and out of clouds to give the trees a pale, ethereal glow. At times, the man had only his little torch to show the way.

Late evening, sunset, and the dwindling light; each an opportunity for good photos, which Paul had taken. Not just landscapes, but flowers and birds, butterflies and one hare which he'd only just caught. The best of it was behind him, but he was still some distance from his car, and the periodic moonlit view was lovely. Hopefully the camera would capture enough of it.

The walk was long, and in between snaps he was already thinking beyond the weekend. Paul liked to be busy, but work just wasn't doing it at the moment. Mid 20s, he wondered if he should have more social ways to spend an evening, but here he was anyway: blonde hair, glasses, a hat on his head and a thick coat to keep away the cold. There'd be other times for seeing people, but today was just for him.

Well, him and the woodland creatures. The sounds in the forest told him life was out there, beyond what he could see. Bats, minks, mice, owls, he could only wonder. No doubt he was being noticed already by all manner of creatures, loud and unsubtle as he would be to their senses. Occasionally the light of his torch reflected, little eyes in the thin bushes and up the trees. This was definitely their place after dark, feeling as if nature itself was happy enough to humour him in the day, but without the sun he'd best get back to town. Unsettling, but all in his mind.

Possum. It wasn't his imagination, that's what he saw: on the path, but quickly waddling off it to get away from the light of Paul's torch. Opossums weren't native to here, so that was a surprise, and he could hear the critter click and scurry away through the trees. It was worth stopping to see if there was a photo to be taken, walking after it to get a closer look. Through bushes, over branches, being careful with his footing as he attempted to follow. Turning off his torch, eyes adjusting to the low light - perhaps some sneakiness would help.

It did, and after a few minutes of this the man ended up mostly shrouded by bushes which he could peer through, eyes back on this unexpected animal. Out of place, just like Paul was. Cute photos, though a little dark until the moon came out again, treating him to a view of pallid, desaturated trees and grass and possum. Wonderful. Night lens could do wonders with this, he hoped. He'd never seen a possum in the wild, and all he was getting was its back and tail; twitchy, impatient, moving slowly.

His hands were twitching. The man was distracted by his craft, but nervousness slowly bubbled into his thoughts. What was this for, so suddenly? It was late, the forest was quiet, maybe something less friendly might be out there. Either way, he was on edge. Possum was going to move away, so he thought he might take his last photos and get going again. Happy days.

Except that what Paul saw through the camera didn't match what he saw directly with his eyes. There, the possum was stood upright on its hind paws, with little red and white balls of light dancing around its head. It wore a lavender coat and a bow on the tail, with three sleeping kits nestled on its back. Possum mum.

Intrigued, surprised, he was frozen to the spot. Secrets, whispered his new-found concern, becoming more than just anxious feelings. Not meant for you.

"You might as well come out," she said, looking over in his direction. "Put the thingy away. Or run, you could do that. I'll catch you. Ugh, why do you lot have to be so curious."

Go on then, echoed the voice in Paul's head. He didn't want to just yet, he wanted to hide more and work out what was going on, but he came out into the clearing regardless.

"I- I don't really understand-"

"No, of course you don't."

She cut him off, before she bounced closer to him and he held up his hands, passively. He'd never read the expressions of a possum before, obviously, and yet he naturally could; she was not happy. Bemused.

"Grr. Why a moon, why tonight, why me? I thought, no, he'll keep the light on, he'll carry on home, he'll not wander into the brush in the dark where there's wolves and wildcats. Dummy. Now you'll want to know all sorts of things."

"Sorry, I mean- you're kinda rude," said Paul, quietly. "Anyone would be curious to see you. If you're busy I'll go and let you get on with your day- well, night. It's just nice to know there's more to the world than I expected. What's your name, at least? I'm Paul." It was more coherent than he expected, but here he was, having a conversation with a possum that barely stood taller than his knees.

She didn't give her name. "Look, I don't like humans, alright? I mean I'm sure you're fine. But you can't know about me. I mean, you can't tell anyone. Can't even whisper it in your sleep. You have to forget. Come down here."

He did, surprisingly. The man sat in the grass as the possum came even closer. Her eyes were bright, the fairy lights gently swirling round, capturing all of his attention. His mouth hung open, thoughts hazy as she went on speaking in a quiet voice.

"It's fine, in a few minutes when I'm gone you'll get back up, and get on with your life, and forget everything you heard and saw about a walking, talking opossum."

No you won't, said the voice, pointedly, insistently. Paul's sense returned to him and he jumped up to his feet, now wary of this magical hypnosis, driven on by the strange vocal insight. Her mood grew darker, and she squealed at him:

"I curse you, then!"

Saying that word, curse, made him flinch, with a stabbing headache just behind the eyes that stopped his progress. Every word after that landed in his ears like she was on his shoulder, not quietened by distance or covering his ears.

"I curse you." More pain. "Your hubris, your lack of deference, your sheer bad luck. I'm not a novelty, not a curiosity. You'll spend a year and a day learning that. This life will be your life. And one less human wandering around is better for everyone. I curse you."

Wrong. Whatever the second sense in Paul's head was, it had nothing to say about the feeling of bitter magic flooding his senses. Not painful, just crawly and uncomfortable. His arms and legs were too long, he couldn't hear or smell very much. There were too many clothes, yet he was cold. He couldn't feel his tail! Wait, what-

So confusing. Was he changing? His nose grew longer, soft fuzz against his fingers holding his face, as though trying to keep his new snout in. His camera bag and clothes felt heavy. Yet he needed to be smaller, lighter, more furry; something in him was resisting, until finally it wasn't. He gave up. The strange magic moulded his body like putty, finding his tail and dragging it out into view. Familiar, comfortable tail. Shoes and socks wouldn't stay on, and he stumbled over and shrank, trousers round his ankles, coat and top eventually so big he could crawl out through the hole in the neck.

Unseen hands kneaded his body, from hands and feet up to his neck. So much to feel, fur growing, palms getting firm, teeth shuffling and changing, and each time feeling more like he was coming back to something. Uncomfortable perspective, feeling less at home in his own body, but it was already hard to think, that magic in his head now, no helpful words from the secret voice, just confusion.

Gasping his way out of clothes, giggling and clicking at the edge of his reasonable thoughts, he was small and light and furry. Perfect. Nose and ears were most of his picture of the world, though his low-light vision improved as he watched. He could see pink toes and fingers and tail, feel wiry grey and white fur, thin ears and long snout. He stood on all fours, which also felt natural; his skin and fur itched where a black curse mark was etching itself on his skin, round his body and legs and back. Despite that, he felt pretty great, although his memories were hazy, here he was in the forest, surrounded in someone's clothing- he thought it might once have been his, but it didn't feel familiar any more, and it was slowly disappearing anyway. Strange! But today was feeling strange.

Possum came closer, smelling sweet and looking surprised, her fairy lights still bobbing about by her ears. Exasperated, too. Giving the new creature a nip on the ears, pressing paws into his fur.

"Ah. Well, that's ironic, isn't it? You're a possum now. Wow, that's a lot of curse mark. You okay?"

What the new possum tried to say was "What happened? Who am I?" but what actually came out was much less meaningful. He'd need to relearn how to use his muzzle for words. Trying to stand up was a bad idea as well, and he ended up back on the floor. Four legs seemed to work for standing, though unsteadily so, and he didn't much like the idea of trying to walk.

"Oh, this is too much," she murmured, paws keeping him steady. "Stupid literal curses. I guess that's my fault too. Hey, we'll have to find a name for you, as well, that human one won't be right. I'm Naomi."

Her tone seemed much softer now. Name? He had one? Right then he couldn't remember it, eyes wide, looking up at Naomi, tongue working around something he was trying to say.

"Help?"

Embarrassed, she looked as though she might prefer to run a mile, or at least play dead. But, a small sigh, a deep breath.

"Yes. Well. I think I'll have to. You can spend a few weeks with me, that might do it. But. That doesn't count as curse time. And you need to follow my rules. That alright?"

It wasn't like the changed possum had a choice, but he nodded anyway. Naomi grabbed his scruff with paws and then with her mouth. This wave of magic was more relaxing, and he was gently falling, eyes closed as he drifted back-

-and shrank, smaller still, bigger head and smaller body, still possum but small enough she could lift him, and she did-

-and he awoke, clinging to her fur, another little body nestled on her back. Fourth kit. Curse mark hidden by darker fur. He'd have an opinion on being this small, but his thoughts were so slow just then. Big eyes. Squeak.

"Best way to learn. Don't need to say anything. Don't need to think either. Just be, and do," said his mum. Then she didn't say very much, because she was already late. Plus she'd need a little extra food. Hmm. A third fairy light joined her two. Had she done a good thing? Now he'd seen her, he'd see ones like her everywhere. It'd be impossible.

It'd be interesting. Her new kit was asleep before she got moving again, surely exhausted, and she'd have a few more days to work out if her curse had been the right thing.

But first, moving. Still a few hours to go yet, and the sun would be up before she got there...

-fin