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Corey heard the pipes first. The music was so faint that it took him a while to identify the sound as man-made, instead of just another bird chirping in the trees around them. "Hey, Sam!" He called softly to the dark, stocky teenager fishing about a hundred feet downstream. "Listen!"

His best friend concentrated a moment, then nodded. "Music. Gotta be a camper or something." Sam frowned. "Damn. Hope they don't find our spot."

The two boys had been coming to this secluded stream for a couple of years now, ever since they'd discovered it during a Boy Scout camping trip. It was an hour's bike ride from their small town just to get to the surrounding forest, and took another hour hiking through the trees and brush to reach the site. Despite coming here at least twice a month, they had never seen another person anywhere close, and had come to think of the spot as being 'theirs'.

"Is it a flute?" Corey strained to listen. The music seemed vaguely familiar. Some sort of Celtic tune, perhaps. Corey's family had strong ties to Ireland, as was evident by his tangle of copper red hair and pale, freckled skin. The notes teased his memory, but he did not recognize the melody.

"Whatever it is, it's getting closer." Sam looked upstream past his friend. "From deeper in the woods. Wonder if someone is following the stream?" Although they were the same age, Sam had several inches and at least 20 pounds on him. Puberty had come earlier to the shaggy, dark-haired boy and even at 16 he had a respectable goatee and moustache. Compared to the short and still peach-fuzzed Corey, he looked two years older. As a result, he had become the smaller boy's protector, first from bullies at school, and ever since Corey's Mom had died, from an angry and sometimes abusive father.

They continued watching, but just before they were sure the musician was about to show up, the curious flute fell silent. After a minute passed, Corey shrugged. "Guess whoever it was turned back."

"Not quite." A new male voice startled both of them, and they spun to see a young man standing behind them. Corey took in several things at once. The newcomer was a bit older than them, maybe 20, bare-chested and nicely muscled, handsome, bearded, and... he had horns and the hindquarters of a black goat.

"A satyr!" Sam identified the creature, staring with open curiosity. "Wow! I didn't know any of you mythics lived around here!" Then he flushed. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

Mythics was the slang term for the beings who had shown up about ten years ago, their huge box of a vessel simply appearing in the middle of a desert. There were half-bull minotaurs, leafy-looking girl dryads, powerful centaurs, Coyote-creatures, dragons, werewolves, and many others. Like satyrs. Living creatures out of human fantasy. Except they were all real. Returned from some other planet, universe, ordimension to rejoin humanity.

The satyr nodded at Sam. "It is not rude at all, my young friend. Quite appropriate and much better than Goat-Butt." He smiled. "I have been here quite a while, but have not let knowledge of my presence escape. The two of you have come many times, though. I believe you belong in these woods."

Both boys couldn't help grinning at the amazing creature. It was like meeting a famous celebrity. Corey set his fishing pole aside and stood, extending his hand. "Hi! I'm Corey Peters. Welcome to the area."

The satyr took his hand in a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Corey. I am Archippus. Most humans prefer to call me Archie." The satyr locked eyes with the boy long enough that it started to get uncomfortable, but Corey could not look away. Achie's eyes were strange, golden with oblong irises like an animal's. Goat's eyes? It felt like the satyr was peering into his head, his soul. And then Archie turned to Sam.

"Hi, Archie!" Sam also shook hands. "I'm Sam Duncan." The satyr repeated the long stare, and Sam blinked when Archie released his grip and then grinned at the two of them.

"Well met, my young friends. So, you like fish, and you like these woods. Why do you not stay here all the time?"

Corey shook his head. "My dad loses it if I'm ten minutes late for dinner. Anyway, we got school and chores and stuff. I don't know how things work for you guys, but people just can't take off and do whatever they want."

"And we don't have any camping stuff." Sam shrugged. "My parents wouldn't let me stay out overnight anyway. Not this far from home. They'd ground me for sure if they knew where we really were."

Corey nodded. "Yeah. So you don't have to worry about us telling anyone you are here."

"Oh, I am not worried." Archie chuckled. "It is an easy secret to keep. All of the humans I have met so far love being here." He suddenly flourished a set of wooden pipes that must have been the source of the earlier music. "Allow me to grant each of you a boon."

Corey frowned slightly. "A boon? What's that?"

"Ah! A favor, a gift. A service performed by me for you."

Corey started to protest that they did not need anything, but Sam interrupted. "That would be cool! What can you do?"

Archie beamed. "I would be most pleased to show you." He looked thoughtfully at the two boys. "How would you like to be able to stay here as long as you want, fish as much as you like, and never have to worry about school and chores again?"

"I wish!" Corey snorted. "That would take some major attitude adjustment for my Dad. And you don't want to cross him."

"That's for sure." Sam frowned. "But how could you do that? Make us rich?"

Archie raised an eyebrow. "You would never concern yourself with money again. Everything you want from life would be yours."

Corey wasn't all that sure he wanted a demonstration, but Sam did not hesitate. "That sounds sweet!"

There was a nod from the satyr and he put the pipes to his lips. A strange melody emerged, lilting and curiously making Corey think of some other sound that he could not quite identify. Nothing happened at first, but then there was a crackle of brush and twigs from the woods. Sam's eyes widened as he looked past Corey. "Oh, shit. There 's a bear behind you!"

Archie chuckled and walked over to the huge animal. "Do not fear her, my friends. She is here to help us. And you are here to help her."

Both boys were pale and tense, the acrid stink of the bear burning their nostrils as they tried to keep from running. You did not run from a bear. However, after about a minute, Sam relaxed a little. He automatically moved slightly between the satyr and bear and Corey. "Is she friendly?"

"Oh, very much so." Archie rubbed her massive head between her ears. "Just lonely. Do not be afraid. She will not harm you. Either of you."

Courage bolstered by the presence of the mythic, Sam moved slowly to stand in front of the bear and offered a hand for her to sniff. After a short snuffle with her damp black nose, the bear licked the back of his hand and arm, leaving a trail of saliva. "I think she likes me."

"Definitely." agreed Archie.

Corey remained apprehensive, but took a step closer. "Just make sure that isn't a taste test."

"Come on, Corey!" Sam squatted down, feeling a thrill of excitement at being so close to such a massive beast. "She's nice." He rubbed under the powerful jaws, finding that he didn't mind the smell so much now.

Encouraged by Sam's confidence, Corey crept forward and crouched down beside his friend. He extended a hand nervously, then flinched as the animal ignored it and thrust her muzzle forward to lick his face. "Oh, gross!" But he grinned, and reached forward to join Sam scratching her neck.

"I knew the three of you would be perfect." Archie stepped back and lifted the pipes to his lips again. As before, the melody was strange and familiar at the same time. Corey found that he really liked being with the bear, safe and happy. He relaxed, even getting a little drowsy.

The music had quite a different effect on Sam. While he also felt more comfortable with the animal, each note seemed to fuel a growing sense of excitement and need. He was aware of the satyr hopping around them as he played, eyes twinkling in amusement. What was so funny? He glanced at Corey and frowned. Weird. His friend looked like a little kid squatting there. Then he blinked and stared harder, having to fight the heat that was building inside his body and clouding his thoughts. What was happening to Corey?

That thought was lost as the bear suddenly shifted, turning as if to leave. Sam felt a pang of disappointment that vanished when she simply turned around to face away from them. The heat intensified, and he shifted uncomfortably as his clothes pulled tight, digging into his waist and arms.

Corey was startled when the bear shifted position, and then giggled when he saw the bear's rump over his head. Was she gonna poop on him? He should move. Shuffling back a few steps, he felt his pants fall. Confused, he saw that both jeans and underwear had dropped down, suddenly several sizes too big. His T-shirt bagged around him, and when he stood up the bottom fell below his knees. The music whirled in his head, creating the picture of him as a little boy, maybe 8 or 9. That had been a good time, when mom was there and they had been a family. He missed his mom. He wished he had a mommy again.

The boy in his mind started to look funny. He'd always been skinny, but now the image was thicker, darker. It was puzzling, but the music was happy and warm and loving. He saw the bear shift back towards him until she was actually pressed against him. Her rump was hot and damp and sticky, but instead of being grossed out, Corey was overwhelmed with curiosity, sliding his small hands into the slick, loose opening that the bear was pushing towards him.

Sam's nostrils were almost overwhelmed by the bear's scent now, but it had become intoxicating instead of offensive. The music swirled inside his head, loud and aggressive, raw power that seemed to fill his muscles with new strength. He clenched his fists and grunted, flexing his legs and arms against the too-tight bonds of his clothing. There was a tearing sound, and the pressure was suddenly gone. Sam gasped at the sudden relief, but even that was not enough to change his focus from the bear, the female in front of him. She was what he needed.

But there was something between them. He frowned and stared at the small, pudgy child who had his arms pushed into the very opening that was calling to Sam. It was hard to think, music and scent pulling at his mind. One small part of Sam realized who the odd boy was and marveled as he saw the child dwindle down to a very plump first grader. The little boy turned to grin back at Sam with the gap-toothed smile of a 5 year-old. "I found mommy!" And then the slick black lips around his arms opened as the bear shifted back and Corey was swallowed to the waist. His legs flailed uselessly, thickening and sprouting dark fur. The small feet swelled into paws as the lips pulled Corey in deeper, until even they had slipped inside.

Sam stared at the loose black lips, a sudden panic for his friend warring with the need and desire that had built to fierce intensity. The satyr was behind him now, playing the notes that pumped him full of strength, of mass. Sam was able to tear his eyes from the bear long enough to glance down. He was not surprised by the shaggy black fur or massive form, not even by the odd, dark organ that looked like it belonged to a huge black dog. No, not a dog. A bear. He was a male bear! A very horny male bear.

But Corey! Sam's panic tried to push forward again, but the trilling music twisted it, reshaped it into more need. Corey needed Sam. He was a cub, the female was his mother, and Sam needed to be his father. He needed to give his seed to the female to make Corey their cub. That tied in with Sam's protective instincts, and his fears abruptly vanished.

Pressure. Corey came aware of being squeezed from all sides, slick wet darkness, and the pounding of blood. He could no longer hear the music, just a rhythmic thudding. A heartbeat. More pressure, squeezing him deeper. He was not breathing! But he had no desire to breathe. He felt warm and safe and happy. Another squeeze, and it started to get wetter.

Sam roared his lust, and approached the female. She was still loose from drawing in the cub, but her lips tightened as he nosed and licked the folds of flesh. The taste merged with sound and smell, and he threw himself over her. The rigid penis caught and then slid into the female with his first thrust, and Sam began to drive deep. This was his mate. His female. Her scent impregnated his thoughts, permanently bonding his life to hers, reshaping his essence to match his new shape.

Corey was floating, aware of warmth, the dull heartbeat, and rocking. Isolated from the music, he was aware of what was happening now. The satyr had made him younger, smaller, then somehow gotten the bear to pull him into her womb. Un-birthed? It was more than that. He was an unborn bear cub, no longer human. His mother was a bear. The sense of safety, of love and protection filled his mind again. He had a mother.

Sam roared again, this time joined by the female as he emptied inside her. There was a curious sense of awareness that seemed to stretch out with the semen, and he had a moment of clarity as the thick spunk flowed around a small shape that continued to shrink within the female's womb. Corey!

Their minds touched, shared joy and hope. Then the wriggling sperm pushed into Corey and he became the bright promise of a fetus. At the same time, Sam's connection changed to a sense of protectiveness, an instinctual bond. The music was coming to a close now, the heavy notes kneading his mind like clay, memories of being human folded into the soul of a bear. It was not loss, it was change. Sam felt the last of his humanity go with a flicker of wonder, and then the huge black bear nosed his mate, and the two animals headed into their forest.

Archie grinned as he put the pipes away. The girl who had discovered him while hiking had been lonely and afraid, worried about her future. The boys filled her need perfectly, just as she had answered the longings he had read in their minds. Corey had a mother's love, and Sam would be there to protect him.

The satyr caught a scent in the air. Wood smoke. Someone building a fire? He began moving silently through the woods towards the source. More humans seeking to be one with the wilderness. And he was always happy to help.

end