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Sometimes I really wish I hadn't sprinted to the left.

For years I used to stick to routines, especially since they were comforting and safe. Adhering to a plan and staying with its consistent results winded up taking me as far as getting into university with relative ease, or at least without some of the academic pitfalls my friends had made. Careful planning, laying out all of my options, and having plenty of time to focus on the problem at hand were my tools; they helped construct my comfort zone.

With all that consistency leading my decisions, I made my trip to Candras Park like I did every day after my engineering classes ended in the afternoon. At that point I was a Sophomore, and the lure of keeping up my 3.98 GPA was closely tied with my schedule. In the back of my mind running off to the park, about seven minutes off of campus and sitting at the edge of the clearing by the soccer fields was the key to keeping up those spectacular grades. My spot, rain or shine, was serene, making my calculations all the more exact, my designs more finely-tuned.

That one Tuesday in February, though, had a little more in store than I originally expected. It started off well enough, with my Physics III professor finally giving us a break and dropping one of the projects he had planned on the side. The best part was definitely when Digital Logic Design pushed its test back another two days just to get in some more review for some of the slower students in the class. I wasn't amongst that weaker group, but between the two I was going to have hours of extra free time I was gladly going to spend on relaxation.

The park that day was practically empty with a crisp chill in the air, coupled with an overcast sky. Save for the fact that the cold ground was always a pain to adjust to for the first few minutes, I rushed headlong into my homework and studying, relishing the fact that I could end well before sunset. Admittedly, as time rolls along I tend to get a bit narrow-focused, my sights set only on my laptop or on the written work in front of me. It wasn't until a shadow loomed over me and obscured my view that I had to stop everything and ask for whoever it was to move out of the way.

What I would have given if it was just some random stranger.

At first glance, it definitely wasn't a human casting that shadow. It also, sadly, was still a good several yards away; its immense stature was working well in casting a large swath of darkness my way as it blocked out the sun. Whatever the hell it was, all I knew was that anything the size of a delivery truck in this part of the world was unlikely to be docile. Its growls, like of gears grinding together at high speeds, didn't allay my fears any. As it padded forward, one cautious step at a time, I noticed quickly that its body seemed sort of equine in stature, maybe even like a clydesdale, only if it was steadily pumped with steroids for a few years. Rather than hooves, though, it sported paws, but with six toes on each.

Its face, though, I stared at that the longest. I'm only thankful that it took its time to assess the situation as much as I did, otherwise I am quite sure I would have been dinner. The behemoth seemed to sport neither eyes nor a visible nose on its oversized head. It was more elephantine in nature with a squat neck, and its stench was akin to setting an entire garbage dump ablaze.

The roar it blasted out after it paused, face affixed in my direction, was all the more reason to make a hasty exit. Laptop be damned, I sprung up in a flash, making a mad dash to anywhere that wasn't there. Leaving everything behind in order to save my own skin was fine by me, and I just prayed that the jeans I was wearing would hold up and that my shoelaces were tied. I shot a glance at the area behind me, making a snap decision to run into the thick woods to my left. There were a few bike paths and all, but they were so narrow they shouldn't accommodate the monstrous thing that was certain to take chase behind me. Much better than remaining wholly out in the open, trying to sprint back to campus; I may be athletic, but I wasn't sporting rippling leg muscles like the six-legged whateveritwas nearby.

May I reiterate how I wish I was much better at situations that require fast-thinking?

It was all going well, with sticks snapping below and low branches scratching me across my face as I burst along. They stung like nothing else, and I threw up my hands at time to keep my eyeglasses in place, but I felt I was making great headway. The metal-scraping growls faded from behind as I soared further, following along the small grooves made in the forest floor by hundreds of bikers before me. After a three minute mad dash I started to slow down, being a fair clip in the woods as I slowed down to a jog. Attempting to catch my breath was of the utmost importance until I heard that horrific roar again, sounding like a prolonged, horrific car crash prolonged over a good ten seconds.

Sadly, it wasn't so much the sound of the outburst that disturbed me as much as the direction. It was undoubtedly closer, but it sounded like it was coming from well off of the ground. For a second, I praised and cursed taking Physics of Acoustics in the same breath, as I craned my neck around. My ears didn't deceive me; the slate horror was careening through the air, sporting a dozen different tendrils that emanated from all along its back. Multiple tentacles gripped along the sturdier, naked trees along the way, careening through the air like some unholy marriage of a cannonball and an ape.

As the weaker trees in his path were quickly snapped out of his way, I tried to dash further on down the path. A few fast strides later, while pumping my legs as fast as they could carry me, I nailed a rough half-buried root with my toes. Stumbling towards the freezing ground below, ready to crash into the decaying leaves strewn all along the path, I felt I had a good 20-year run. These last few moments should make up for any lack of excitement, but I really wish I could have tried a pomegranate before being flayed alive. That would have been enjoyable.

With no other options and the frantic screams for blood looming ever closer, I flipped over and decided to face my fate. My disheveled black hair obscured my view, but at least my glasses were still intact. The cold earth slid between my fingers as I gripped the ground, trying to enjoy any final sensations before my world came to an end.

To this day I don't know what I said aloud, or even if it involved actual words, but as the beast made a final swing in my direction, its deadly arc was interrupted by a black streak through the air that collided right into its side. It wailed in what I could only think was absolute shock...at least, if I wasn't the one wailing at that point as its body crashed heavily into the ground.

The onyx streak, now standing quite still as it looked over the fallen prey, breathed a sigh of relief. He was wearing what seemed to be a long, dark cape, complete with hood, as he gave the body of the loathsome creature a good bash with a sheathed weapon, possibly a sword. My head swam as he turned around, my brain still married to the notion that I had only another minute left, as the figure looked me over.

"I have to admit, it's been a long time since I've seen someone flee from one of these damned Pursuers while only getting this banged up!" He knelt down next to me, and I could have sworn I heard the shuffling of some metallic plates underneath his cloak. I didn't really focus though since he was busy pulling up the sleeve of my red shirt. When it finally kicked in that I remembered putting on a blue shirt this morning, he was already halfway through wrapping a large cloth around the underside of my arm. "Now, hold still. I'll clean this out and have you as good as new soon enough."

Let me just say, I nearly saw stars as this new acquaintance rinsed off my wound from a little canteen he produced from seemingly out of nowhere. I thought I had a great amount of tolerance to pain, but I assumed I really tumbled onto the root. The man kept up with the reassuring words, rubbing some sort of poultice along the wound before tying it all up in a fanciful knot.

"Sorry about the pain, but at least you won't lose the arm. I'm Lance, by the way." As he held out his arm, I was finally able to glance under his hood. His eyes were full of kindness, as well as an intriguing purple hue. I could have sworn he looked scruffy, to the point where I doubt he had ever shaved in his life, a bit grey in hue, but he couldn't have been that old. The lilt in his voice and his lithe, body that lay under his flowing silk-like outerwear made him sound only a few years older than I. I was right about the shifting plates, though; almost completely obscured from view was a stunning set of armor, shimmering as if inlaid with some luminescent metal in ornate patterns. It must have been masterfully made, since it was hard to find an exploitable joint on the entire structure.

I offered my left arm as well, a bit perplexed as to what he was aiming for until he gripped me firmly by my elbow and gave it a healthy shake. "Mine is Corbyn, and thanks for saving my life!" Returning his gesture was easy to do, and I was only too happy that he was gripping along my good arm. His strength was shocking, even accounting for his armored hand, and I could easily see how he could fell what he called a 'Pursuer' so masterfully.

For a moment, I could have sworn I saw his eyes glimmer as his hood tilted a bit. His expression, and most of the rest of his face was still obscured, but I've heard that sort of happiness in a reaction before. "Are you kidding? By my count I still owe you at least three more, given the tough scrapes we had in the past."

To say I was perplexed was an understatement. I could feel him swirl his thumb around my forearm in a single circle before finally pulling away, not knowing if that was part of whatever welcoming gesture that he was used to. Hell, between the 'Pursuer' and his anachronistic armor I could barely tell if I had passed out earlier and this was all some strange dream, or if I slipped onto the filming of some movie where they just decided to go ahead and keep rolling with this dumbfounded raven-haired kid taking the lead.

My confusion was only compounded when I started to feel a bit dizzy out of nowhere. Lance helped me lay down on the cool ground again, giving me a bit more water from his supply to drink as I started to rest. For as heavily armored as he was, Lance certainly took great pains in patting my hand, reassuring me that the blood loss wasn't great enough to worry about.

"Just shut your eyes and relax, I'll keep watch over you until you can stand again." His whispers were dripping with honey, sweet beyond anything else I have heard for a long time, even my past girlfriends. Who was I to argue at this point? He did save my life, after all; I'm sure he could take care of any more of those freaks if they happened to trample by.

The chill from the ground enveloped me, comforting the rocking sensations through my brain. Sighing with ease, my eyes finally slipped shut as I just focused on Lance's short breaths above me. Steadying my breath, I was quite content when my body started to finally relax. All of the adrenaline from earlier was wearing off, and the sensations were throwing mixed signals all around my body.

To be fair, I thought everything was going well enough. My muscles started to become far lest fatigued, the exhaustion melting away. My arms were the first to relax fully, which felt a bit odd compared to the usual. On second thought at the time, I barely paid any attention to myself at rest; getting things done until I near-collapsed was of paramount importance. They tingled once more, seemingly every nerve being tickled at once, but I blew that off as an effect of the tincture Lance had applied earlier. At least until I remembered that Lance put it on only one arm, not both.

As my eyes flew open I barely recognized what I saw. My arms seemed longer, at first glance, but they were also quickly becoming azure in hue. I reached over to give them a quick glance, hoping I had just passed out. My fingertips brushed along my wrist, noticing a sensation that was akin to feeling fur. My mind was thrown for a loop, trying to process what was going on as I moaned out. In an instant my eyes met with Lance's, hoping that he had any sort of clue as to what, if anything, was going on any longer.

"It'll be fine, I swear," he looked back down at me as I lay on my back. "I promised you long ago I would take you back when you were safe and sound. Just relax, my steed."

"Um, what?!" Not the best response I could have come up with, all things told, but I was a bit more preoccupied. I never recalled being anything but myself, but my arms were quickly distracting my frazzled brain. The seams on my shirt were barely taking the increasing pressure from underneath, and everything suddenly grew all the more tight. I tried to pitch myself off of the ground, hoping to at least lurch up and take it off myself, but almost all of my strength had left me. My body was at the mercy of what was going on underneath, and I had no idea where this was going until my royal blue shirt finally gave way.

The front ripped open first, as if I wanted to purposefully rend it off of my body. My chest was awash in snowy fur, a majestic tuft of it from my chest extending all the way down to my navel. The arms soon followed as I shuddered, half-afraid of what I would see. My biceps and triceps greeted me with a shock of fur that reminded me of some of the gorgeous skies in the park on spring days. The thought that those days may be behind me filled me with a twinge of sadness as I laid eyes along my hands. They were different now, with fingers widening and becoming more rotund, shocks just ripping through the middle of my palms as they seemed to stretch out to the sides as well. Without any warning my five digits grew to something more like vulpine pads, hardening more underneath as sharp jabs of pain radiated through each previous finger. Let me just say, developing those long nails was a real bitch.

It wasn't long until my jeans were soon ready for the trash as well, bursting apart slowly but surely as that same rush of blue fur appeared below. My shoes fared no better, and I would have hoped that Lance had the foresight to take them off, but at least they shredded apart with ease. As I flexed my unseen toes, though, they felt longer, far more thinner than the rest of me, with claws that put those on my hands to shame. As I felt two of my toes clack along a large rock, though, I knew I recognized the sound.

My face started to feel flush as I could feel my hair on top of my head growing even more. It draped in front of my eyes, covering them in a navy blue that was reminiscent of my recently deceased shirt. I growled as my cartilage in my ears felt as if they were being as pulled upon as taffy, stretched even longer as they relocated slowly up my head. All the while I was gritting my teeth, which felt like they were growing all the more sharp as my nose and mouth were being drawn away from me, nearly cutting off some of the view of my chest as it elongated into a substantial muzzle.

All the while I kept trying to call out, cry for help, anything, but it was of no use. The rest of my body was saving energy for this process as I started to get the terrible urge to flip myself over. I must have struggled a great deal since that was the only time Lance physically gave me any assistance, rolling me over to my chest. My newfound forearms gripped along the ground, the new paws clutching into the dirt.

It wasn't until I felt a stiff breeze until I realized that not only was I transforming, but I was completely nude at this point, in full view of Lance. I could have sworn I had blushed underneath my sky-blue furry cheeks, but my backside still reared into the air, cheeks spread apart as it wriggled like mad. The sensation right above the split in my cheeks was maddening, itching as if an entire acre of poison ivy was heaped upon that sensitive spot. It wasn't until I literally howled out of need that I felt the pain dissipate in a rush; three tails were quickly sprouting from my tailbone, swirling and crashing into one another as they spilled forth, a great wave of blue from the base crashing down into pure white by the tips. Each and every one was nearly as thick as my chest, flopping around without any control on my part.

Crying came to mind as my shoulder blades erupted in a similar manner, springing forth in an explosion of feathers with a similar hue of that of my tails. It wasn't necessarily painful, but the sudden eruption of wings that spanned a good six feet in each direction off of my back was something along my "unexpected" list. Instinctively, I stretched both new structures out as wide as I could as my bones seemed to be doing the same. I had to keep readjusting my legs and gait as I felt like I was growing larger, lengthening slowly but surely until, from neck to rump, I could have sworn I was as large as that 'Pursuer' from earlier. Something told me, deep down, my muscles were defined enough that, if so happened another one would come along, I wouldn't have to worry about being prey any longer.

"You're doing great, Corbyn! You're almost done." At least Lance was coaxing me along, even though I was going to pepper him with questions after. In the interim, though, I was a slave to the transformation. And what did he mean by "almost done?" Surely everything had come in already.

Needless to say, I was mistaken. Despite everything I didn't notice the changes between my hind legs all the while. It wasn't until I felt my testes knock into one another, out in the open and nearly halfway down my muscular calves, that another drive started to fill me. I wanted to refuse, I wanted to fight it, but the rest of my body reacted as naturally as it could. There was a burgeoning heat within me down there, taking a good half a minute until it felt a bit of a chill. With a glance downwards and a quick lift of my left leg I noticed that, yes, I was sporting a leg more fit for an eagle, talons and all, and a massive sheath that stretched out nearly half a foot. The monstrous erection spilling forth from it, embarrassingly dripping out my nectar all over the floor of the forest, however, was still growing, nearly ten thick inches by the final throb.

Call me modest, but I tried not to think about it much as I lowered my leg. I tried not to give into my natural inclination, but my baser instincts were grabbing a hold of my sense. It wasn't until I felt another massive growth along the base of my shaft, widening out and rubbing heavily along my bulging sack. The cream just flowed forth as my first knot came into view, a glorious show for Lance to focus upon as I soaked the ground with my seed and scent; I had to make it mine, I wanted to claim this spot just for myself, relishing the life I still had in me, eagerly spreading all of that semen amongst the flora.

After I made a spectacle of myself, still gasping heavily for breath as my chest heaved, I looked in Lance's direction. I was still on all fours, wobbling just a bit as I rocked around, the last few spasms of jism just collecting noisily in a massive puddle below. "St...steed?!" I eked out my question as best I could, given my lack of breath. Some part of me was trying to fight the notion that I wanted to cum for Lance, trying to chalk it solely up to hormones.

"Many years ago," Lance began, beckoning me to come along with his fingers as he turned his back to me to walk along the bike path again, "you were practically on your deathbed after a terrible decision I made." I couldn't see his face, but my ears twitched as he started to get choked up by the notion. I padded along beside him, not really having any other option open to me. "It looks like you forgot a lot of things but, long story short, I wound up using one of the trinkets we found together to send you somewhere more safe and secure."

"In fact, I used three of them." Lance kept walking forward slowly, as if knowing I was getting used to walking alongside him. I had to admit, there was some semblance of familiarity, but it could have been déjà vu. "One was used to patch you up, another to hide you somewhere safe, and the last to give you protection."

The cloaked one stopped in his tracks as he stood still for a moment. I stood back, giving Lance a moment to reflect, before he turned around. After all of this time, since meeting one another for the first time or whatever, he pulled back his hood. I was absolutely right about his piercing violet eyes, but I could have been more accurate about the rest of his features; he sported a thin muzzle just like my own, his grey face intermixed with a hint of a white diamond-like patch along the center of his forehead. This anthropomorphic fox was tearing up, but along his face was a look of relief. He knelt down next to me, nose to nose, as he scratched under my chin.

"I know, none of this makes any sense, but I swore on my life I would do anything to find you again." There was too much sincerity in his words, or at least enough to keep me from turning around and running away. But what would I do anyway if I were to flee? This wasn't the sort of problem you could look up on a search engine and hope to find a worthwhile solution. Or maybe it was, I never bothered checking before. All I could tell was that my trio of tails was certainly enjoying the tender attention. "You made mention that you gave me protection," I said quietly, nearly thinking aloud. "If...that means you made me human to do so..."

"If you are uncomfortable," Lance chimed in, almost as if reading my mind, "I would gladly search until I could give you whatever you have here back." His smile was comforting, at the very least. "I promised you a lot in our time together, but if this isn't what you want any longer, I'll give you whatever will make you happy."

Now here I sit, far deeper in the wood than I think even Google Maps has bothered to cover, as Lance sets up camp for the night. As he pitches an exceptionally large tent meant to house both of us he talks non-stop, trying to catch me up on that 'Pursuer', what we're going to do tomorrow, and anything else that comes across his mind. In fact, he grills me more about the world than anything else, finding it to be majestic in its own way. It sounds like he has seen nothing more than the various woods and last vestiges of undeveloped land nearby, but I don't mind filling him in. I have to admit, it's refreshing to finally talk to someone who seems to actively care about what I learned in Physics.

Still, we break out tomorrow to head back to his home. Where that is, I still have no idea. Lance was sharp enough to grab everything I had left behind in the clearing, though, and he did mention that I would never have to worry about time. He's been at it more than I have, so...why not travel along for a bit? I hate to admit it outright, but this new body is exceptional, and I don't just mean because of its virility. And if this is all just a dream, I'll wake up soon anyway. I may as well enjoy the lot of it.

...to hell with not wanting to sprint into the woods. Maybe it was the best decision I've ever made.