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Coyote Eggs

by Earbender

Testing, testing... is this thing turned on? Yes? Oh... ah... good. I'll get started then. First thing to say is--don't mess with Coyote. That dude is trouble. And Raven... well... what can I say? Raven is trouble too. Yeah yeah, I know, kind of obvious looking at me, isn't it?

I never wanted to, of course. Never intended to. How was I to know the petting-zoo coyote on my surgery table was actually Coyote--the genuine, magical bad-news trickster of song and story? He's not real, people say, but I was never one of those people. I've always tried to keep an open mind.

Anyway, moving along; there he was, asleep and strapped splay-legged before me, clipped scrubbed and draped for a routine castration... and that's what I did. He was my first coyote neuter but no different from the others: skillful slice-snip-stitch and Coyotyl's huevos were in the gut bucket and himself snugly blanket-wrapped in his shiny stainless steel recovery room cage. He was not pleased when the anesthetic wore off.

No, he was not pleased at all. I remember every word he said.

"You ash... asshole... what have you done to me?" he growl-mumbled as I gently massaged him awake. I was taken aback by these words, as you might expect. My patients cussed me out on a regular basis but never in human speech! It was also unusual for me to be tending a surgical recovery unassisted, but the hour was late so I had let my staff go home when the prep work was done and now I was by myself with a drugged, drunken canine and a cock-n-bull story involving a wedding party at the petting zoo, an untended bowl of spiked rum punch, and a flagrant cross-species rape attempt on the maid of honor. This was not the reprobate's first offense and the petting zoo's owner was a good client, and desperate, and the staff told me I really, really ought to accept the case... and so it goes. Such is the life of a divorce-impoverished relief veterinarian in southern Nevada rural practice.

But yes, back to the talking coyote. We veterinarians really are not accustomed to such things. We are accustomed to unsolved mysteries, unpleasant surprises, and unexplainable behavior in general, however. One learns to go with the flow. One also learns to keep one's eye on the teeth at first hint of trouble and to count one's fingers before and afterward.

Not so sure about the talking bit but trouble was most definitely hinting so I edged back on my heels and eased the cage door closed, not latching it yet but keeping it between us, just in case. The guy was large for a coyote but still less than half my size. Seemed like ample protection at the time.

"What have you done?" the coyote repeated, wiggling free from his blanket cocoon. His voice was stronger now, all traces of confusion gone from it.

"You've just had surgery," I soothed, voice soft and blandly professional, "It's quite normal to feel ill and confused when waking up from--"

"What surgery?" the coyote snarled. He nosed between his hind legs, where it was quite obvious to him what sort of surgery had been done, then rolled his head back to fix me with a malignant, cold-smoldering yellow gaze. "Mortal," he hissed, "do you have any idea what you've just done? I ought to--" Then the coyote stopped, mouth half-open, and began to laugh. Without warning he lunged forward, still laughing, knocking me on my ass and tearing the cage door loose from my grasp. His teeth slashed down hard, yanked back harder then he was gone and I was doubled up in agony, both hands pressed tight to my crotch. Oh, shit. Shitshitshitshit. Bad bite, bad bite. Careful now, keep the pressure on, if he ruptured the femoral I could bleed out before--

Huh. Pain's fading. Was I just imagining? I drew my hands away and they were dripping red; looked down and saw torn cloth and mangled flesh. I retched and turned my head aside, turned back... and the flesh didn't seem quite so mangled. No, not so very mangled at all. It was changing! Changing even as I watched! Almost like--I gaped stupidly and stared, dumbfounded, as the pain left me and my tissues pulled together like a werewolf wound in some tacky horror movie, and in seconds I had no wound at all. No testicles, either; just a sad flat patch of unblemished scrotum skin where they had been. Wildly I whipped around, searching for the coyote, saw him at the far end of the hallway crouched over two scraps of bloody cloth--from my scrub pants and underwear--and two bloody wet scraps of me. He caught my eye and smiled, leaning forward--

"No!" I screamed, "Don't do that!"

--and gulped them down before my eyes. Damn. I was not done with those yet. Burned out and bitter, yes, but not quite ready to give up on the home and family business. In another year or two, maybe, with the right woman...

"You bastard!" I charged raging down the hallway toward him then slowed... and stopped. Careful now--talking coyote here--talking magical coyote. Crazy-weird. Crazy dangerous weird.

"Son of a bitch might be a better term," the coyote mocked, dancing gaily toward me then past, daring me to touch him. I didn't touch him, just stalked furiously behind as he bite-turned random doorknobs and chanced upon the break room, then darted inside and yanked open the refrigerator door. His tail dropped in disappointment as he surveyed the contents. "What, no beer?" he lamented, "Those cojones of yours were too salty. Need something to wash them down."

I grabbed a wad of paper towels and wiped the blood from my hands and crotch and thighs, but most of it had already soaked into the ragged remnants of my scrubs and underwear. Grimly I stripped those off and stuffed them in a nearby trash can, then moistened some fresh paper towels and wiped myself again. "Cough them up if you don't want them!" I grumped. "Maybe I can extract some sperm and freeze it for later use."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that!" the coyote laughed. He rolled over to show his belly and--and his incision was gone.

Incision gone, fur grown back, tan-furred scrotum bulging heavily with... nah. That's just too weird. Crazy-weird.

"See?" the coyote gloated, "There they both are, safe and sound! Thought I'd borrow 'em for a spell. That precious sperm of yours will enjoy a diligent distribution, don't you fret! Did you have any particular recipient in mind for starters?"

"No!"

"As you wish." The coyote stood and shook himself then sniffed his way to the rear exit door, which opens directly out from the break room. "Well, in that case our business here is done and I'll be going now. Have a nice life."

"What? That's it? You're just going to walk away?"

"I don't see why not. You made a mistake--an honest one I assume--and now you've paid for it. What more is there to discuss?"

Helplessly I stood by as the coyote seized the knob in his jaws, turned it, pulled the door ajar. Sage-sweet desert evening air swirled in around him and he paused, regarding me sidelong, a sneaky sly gleam in his fire-gold eye. "Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless you'd like your little buddies back some day, when I'm done with them."

"You can do that?"

A hint of annoyance clouded the creature's cheerful countenance. "Of course I can do that! Have you not yet guessed who I am?"

"Yes, I've guessed."

"Then say it, please."

"You are Coyote."

Coyote's expression softened and he bowed deeply in mock humility, chin and forelegs on the floor but rump and tail raised high as if in play. "The one and only! How may I be of service to you?"

"We were discussing the return of certain items..."

"Yes yes. It is simple, really. Merely keep my old ones safe until I want them back and I will return your own, in their proper place, ready for use and none the worse for wear. Deal?"

"What's the catch?"

Coyote smiled, more sneakily than ever. "Catch? Sir! You wound me deeply! Why are you humans always so suspicious of my gifts?"

"Past experience?"

Coyote snorted disdainfully and pushed himself through the door. "A little trust now, if you please! If you can't give me that we have nothing further to discuss. Good day!"

"Coyote," I whispered, and he whipped back instantly to attend, "I accept your terms." Why did I say that? Still not sure. Even at the time it seemed like a bad idea.

"Excellent, excellent! Now fetch my old ones--I'm sure you know where they are--and bring them here to me." Coyote had the refrigerator open again and was dragging out a pizza box of uncertain age. Sharp fangs peeled the cover back and he sniffed over the curdled contents with great interest.

"Anchovies! My favorite! Perhaps, while you're attending to that small task, I'll sneak myself a wee small nibble of this. Do you mind?"

"No, no, help yourself. Would you like it warmed up?"

"Yes, please."

I threw pizza slices on a plate and fired up the microwave, and before the timer bell rang I was back with fresh scrubs on myself and Coyote's missing pieces laid out neatly on a folded cotton towel. Something was very strange about them. Half an hour had passed since Coyote's surgery and they were still pink and soft, as if they had been cut away mere seconds ago. Flesh changes quickly when it's removed from a body. It turns doughy, dull-colored, kind of purplish gray and--you know--dead. Coyote's parts had been separated from him but they were not dead. Creepy.

"Ah! There you are! Just set them down anywhere. Is my pizza ready yet?"

"Yes." I set Coyote's bits on the floor, opened the microwave door--and he snatched a pizza slice straight from the platter, before I could get it down to his level. Bolted the whole damn sizzling thing without chewing at all. "Careful! You'll burn yourself!"

"Hmm? Oh! Yes, of course. Ouch. Too hot. I'll eat the next one more slowly."

Coyote did that, and the last slice he nibbled daintily at his leisure. "Exquisite," he murmured at last, licking pizza sauce and greasy white cheese-food drips from his smooth dark jowls. He sauntered smiling to the Coyote-bit-towel and eyed me sidelong, savoring the moment. "Your turn now. Swallow them both, it you please. You may take them one at a time if you prefer, but please do not chew."

"Excuse me, I'm not sure I heard you properly."

"You agreed to keep them safe. That means you keep them safe. Inside of you, that is--not locked in a vault or formaldehyde jar or some soulless unfeeling deep freeze machine. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, but--"

"You could shove them up your ass, of course, or press them in the wound if I bite you again, but I thought swallowing would be more dignified and less painful. What do you think?"

"I think I've changed my mind."

"Sorry, too late." Coyote curled his lips and lunged snapping at me but--

"Hey! I--"

--but it was just a ruse because in fact he was reaching for his neglected testicles, which he bite-snatched and tossed into my open mouth in one smooth, quick, unhumanly graceful movement.

"Urrck..."

Coyote jumped up so his front paws were on my chest and he was just tall enough to lick me on the face, which he did. "Go on, now--swallow your nice medicine!" he coaxed between licks.

"Ah-k-k-hurksth--" Couldn't quite... couldn't quite spit them out... were the freaky things moving on their own? Maybe they were, can't recall for sure, but it doesn't matter. Down the throat they went, and down they stayed.

"There! All done!" Coyote soothed, "That wasn't so hard now, was it?" He dropped to all fours and nip-tugged at a pant leg. "Go on, take 'em off. I need to monitor developments down here."

"No, I don't think--" Strange feelings inside me now, crawling deeper, like-- rr-rr-i-pp-pp

"There! That's better." He nosed my crotch and I held unmoving for him, trembling, not daring to fight or run as the crawling sensation worked lower then hesitated, separated, grew still. Settled at kidney level and... and rooted there. Difficult to describe clearly but unmistakable to feel. Those things had made themselves at home inside me, welcome or not, and--I jabbed fingers below my ribs, desperately trying to feel what was going on inside, face flushing hot for no reason and cock swelling suddenly, unstoppably hard--and they were up to something already!

Coyote sniffed thoughtfully at groin level, tongue-touched, sniffed again. "Move your hands, please. And get rid of that funny shirt thing you're wearing. It's in the way too."

I stripped off my scrub top hastily, before he should decide to remove it for me, and stood before him unsure of what to do next.

He stretched his neck and pressed an ear to my newly exposed and decidedly bewildered belly. "Hmm. Stuck. Thought that might happen."

"Stuck?"

"It's my fault, I know; I'm always neglecting the poor dears. Only to be expected they'd seize this opportunity to rebalance themselves."

"Rebalance?"

"My nature is male and female but I have this habit of... er... suppressing things, sometimes, and over the years it builds up a debt of sorts. Easy enough to set right, of course..."

"Set right?"

"Don't you worry, it's not so hard. A human female can do whatever she wants these days."

"Female?"

"Or you can be something else, if you prefer. Anything you like!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Anything at all! Storm-swift mare, fierce-fanged lioness, horny-hot coyote bitch..." Coyote nuzzled low and breathed softly, like a note of half-heard song, and where his breath touched my skin grew warm, hot, tingling--I looked down and saw fur between my legs, soft pale coyote fur where stiff human curls had been a moment ago. And had my cock grown smaller? Nah, of course not. Or... maybe. Yes. Damn thing was smaller, and shrinking as I watched, but it had never been so hard! Or so aroused. Thrumming-hot-hard, twitching with my heartbeat, begging desperately to be touched. My hand reached down and I snatched it back, hastily. Not now you idiot!

"Thought you'd like that!" Coyote purred, drawing breath and leaning forward again to--

"No!" I yelled, twisting away, "I want to be myself! Like I was!"

He jerked back, stung, and snorted disdainfully. "Well if that's the way you feel--"

"Yes! It is the way I feel."

"Very well. If such is truly your desire you may force your transformation by finding yourself a human female--a human female, mind you--and screwing her right quick before some other fine creature catches your fancy. You're a clever lad, should manage it without undue difficulty, but it's only fair to warn you she'll find herself pregnant when you're done with her. No pill nor condom nor clever human womb surgery can withstand my--"

Coyote tucked his ears and stroked a fond cheek against my thigh, gifting me with a throat-catching pleasure-shock and a cheek-wide swath of tawny-pale fur.

"Coyote! No! Please don't do that."

"--can withstand our magic. You can un-spay a bitch, if you're taken with her, or grow new testicles on the lucky gelding or your choice. Think of the profit potential in that! Profit for your handler, anyway. The magic will change you too, of course, and it's hard to sign a check with paws or hooves for feet. But enough--"

"Coyote--" The fur swath was spreading rapidly, making itself one with the ivory-pale pelt already in residence between my legs and... was that a tail, I felt behind me? In helpless dread I turned to look.

"--enough chit-chat. It's been a pleasant visit but I have business of my own I've been neglecting. Some entity or group of entities has been striving to unseal the portal on Mount Charleston, and--"

"Ah, Coyote--excuse me, but--" Yes, undeniably a tail. It was fluffy, it was a part of me, and it very much wanted to curl itself cravenly between my legs. My furry legs. Fur was still spreading, stretching unbroken now from knee level nearly to my neck.

"--and I've lost patience with simply blocking them out. I believe I shall invite Raven for company and trot on up to tell them--"

Balance failed me and I staggered, took a chair but my tail got pinched so I spilled out sprawling on the cold vinyl floor. I lay there prone, for a few breaths, tried and failed to sit cross-legged, then eased my way carefully, cautiously, to humble hands and knees.

"Coyote please!" I begged, eye-to-eye with him now. He looked much larger now. Must be the different angle of view.

"Yes?" purred the fell creature in a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth tone of voice, arching a furry eyebrow and regarding me with a look of mock-concern. His musky canine scent had grown stronger somehow. Intoxicating. Almost like--

"May I assist you, mortal?" Coyote sidled close and breathed out softly, in my ear, and the fur rushed tingling up my neck to meet him there. The ear grew hot, and heavy, and--no, both ears were changing--growing large and strong, and acutely sensitive... and tightly plastered to my head in helpless canine distress.

--like never mind! Just never mind, gotta keep on task here. Magical furry seduction bad. Excruciating alimony rat race good. Don't think about it. "Ah, right... sorry to be a bother but... ah... trying to stay human here, if that's not too much trouble."

"Human?"

"Yes! Human! As in... ah... no fur, please? And no tail?" I ran fingers through the fur in question and found nipples there, in the belly area and higher up--exquisitely sensitive, estrus-swollen bitch nipples in two flagrant irrefutable rows. Exactly eight of them, no doubt, but I didn't stop to check. Crotch felt funny and I didn't check that either. Definitely not that. "And... ah... those other parts too."

"Are you certain? I think coyote fur suits you well! It compliments the sweet shy slyness I sense in your heart, and with a little leg and muzzle work you'll be damn good looking! And a proper set of paws, of course, we'll need those too, cactus-tough and patter-fast and--"

"Coyote! Stop it!"

"Oh, all right," he grumped, "If you insist." He barked sharply, commanding, and his changes melted back into my body as if they had never been. Fur gone, nipples gone, tail gone and--I stood tall and felt my crotch timorously, hardly daring--and a proper human penis in its proper place, still unrepentantly aroused. No testicles, of course, but--

"Huff!" I staggered backwards, stunned by a sudden blow to the solar plexus. Damn furball had shoulder-slammed me! How could something half my size hit so hard? Had to leap through the air just to reach up that high.

"And there they are, the dear bashful things! Just needed a little gentle persuasion to get them moving again."

--and testicles too.

"Ah... thanks," I wheezed, when my lungs once again allowed me that privilege. "Thank you, thank you! I deeply... hu-uff... ah... deeply appreciate your--"

"Cease your babbling, human. Can't promise how long it'll last; best you get right to work on stabilizing the changes as I advised. Still think you'd do better as a coyote bitch." And then he was gone, slinking smoke-soft through the open exit door, and when I crept cautiously after him I saw nothing in the twilight-shadowed parking lot beyond. Nothing out there at all.

I stared out into the summer-hot semidarkness, stunned and stupid, rubbed my eyes and stared some more, still trying and failing to reclaim my scattered wits.

Damn.

Just... damn.

What else was there to say? I turned back, wrinkling my nose at the too-chill, chemical-tainted clinic air--funny it had never struck me that way before--closed the door and locked it then picked up a phone to notify the petting zoo of their loss. Much to do, much to think, but when you lose a patient that phone call has to come first. Ms. Davenport, the zoo owner, was most forgiving. Most forgiving indeed. "You say he simply ran away? Why that's... er, that's terrible, terrible. You must be so distraught. Did the creature cause you any... ah... difficulties before he left?"

"Well he bit me, yes, but I can't hold that against him. My misjudgment."

"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry to hear that. Was it a serious bite? Are you badly hurt?"

"Er... we'll see. I'll need to deal with it but I wanted to call you first, so you would know what--"

"Dr. Kurramon, are you telling me you've been injured and you haven't yet received proper medical attention? You need to go straight to the hospital and--look at the hour! It's a quarter to eight already! Are you alone? Is there someone there to help you?"

"Well, no, but that's not a problem. I--"

"You're not planning on driving yourself, are you? That's not safe! You'll need to call an ambulance or--wait, I'll take you. Your clinic is just down the road from here, and--"

"No! I'm fine. Really, Ms. Davenport, I'm fine. Vets get bit all the time. We're used to it."

"Are you sure? It's no bother at all, and I'd feel much better if--"

"No, please don't trouble yourself. You've already helped immeasurably by forgiving me for losing--for failing to maintain custody of a patient under my care. That's a big deal, you know. We can get in a lot of trouble when it happens."

"Yes, of course," Ms. Davenport replied, "but you should know I'm feeling guilty too. Windstrider Cheeky-Cheeks is no ordinary coyote, and I realize now I put you in danger by asking... what I asked. I'm so sorry I lost my temper like that, and so relieved he ran off before you had the chance to do your little surgery on him! Cheekykins is a dear sweet creature but he frightens me, sometimes, and there's no telling what he might have--but never mind. Never you mind about that. I'll not burden your ears with the silly fancies of a silly spinster woman. He's gone now, no harm done, and we can all sleep better tonight."

"Yes, Ms. Davenport, of course we will. I'll be sure to let you know the moment we learn more." I set the receiver down and sighed, stretching sore shoulders and rubbing out a painful crick in my neck. That went well, anyway. Now to learn how to share my body with a pair of half-sentient, magical coyote gonads. Not a syndrome they taught me about in vet school! I sighed again, peering ruefully down at my still erect member and intact, deceptively human-looking testicles. What would the sperm look like under a microscope? Blunt-headed primate or sharp-headed canine or simply morphing to meet the needs of the moment? And the chromosomes! How many of those did I have now? What does a magical chromosome look like? Do magical creatures even use such things?

Gingerly I touched myself, exploring, and hissed in pleasured astonishment at the sensation. Nice... very nice. I touched again, stroking, just a touch. No harm in that. Couple more strokes and then I really ought to--

Really ought to get a move on! Deal with it later. Stuff to do now. Vets are expected to leave a mess when they work alone but not a mess like this. I put on my street clothes and cleaned up pizza crumbs and coyote drool and bloody footprints from the floor, throwing towels and torn scrubs and other suspicious items in a garbage bag I'd be taking off the premises with me. And yes, I didn't forget to remove those blood-soaked scrub scraps and paper towels from the break room trash can, or to leave a note for the kennel staff reporting Windstrider Cheeky-Cheek's escape. Some things are beyond a mortal's power to control, and some are not. It is comforting to do those small things one can.

I did those things then drove my truck home with the windows rolled wide open, warm sweet night-wind whipping quick around my ears as I brooded grimly over strange fates and impossible happenings and feverishly sensitive private parts; passed our town's one and only whorehouse but didn't stop there. Damned if I was going to sort out my troubles by magically impregnating some innocent hooker! Coyote said a woman was required but I did not agree. Women are for laughing and loving and learning to live with. My business could be conducted well enough with a tube of lubricating jelly and a well-experienced hand. I'd keep my randy thoughts focussed on human females, of course. Surely that would be enough.

I ditched my clothes and did that, or tried to, and... couldn't. Couldn't do it. Couldn't bring myself to an orgasm. It was not like being tired, or drunk, or not horny enough. I was horny, oh yes. Crazy hot horny! Heart racing and face flushed and toes curling tight with raging lust--but I could not find release. Couldn't find release... but couldn't stop. Almost couldn't. I have a lot of willpower and I managed in the end. Gave up on the job and grumpily showered, brushed my teeth, and threw myself on the bed.

I was not expecting to sleep, of course. How could I possibly sleep after what had happened to me? But I did sleep, almost right away, and right away I began to dream. I dreamed of Coyote...

And Raven.

They were on a mountaintop, boulder-strewn, lit by starlight bright as day. "Raven, look!" barked my dream-Coyote, appearing much the way he had appeared in real life. Considerably larger, it is true, but that was just from my new angle of view. In my dream I was a coyote too, and I shied back nervously as he rushed up nose to nose for enthusiastic greeting licks. "My human has come to visit us, just as I told you it would! Is it not adorable? And sweet? And sexy? So diligent and kind-hearted and earnest! You should have seen how gently it cuddled me awake after slicing my nuts off."

Raven fluttered down from his boulder-perch and pecked playfully at Coyote's hind end, forcing him to dodge quickly to one side. "Really, Brother!" he scornfully scoff-cackled, pecking again and forcing him to dodge again. "You'll have to weave yourself a better story cuz that one's too silly even for me. If you lost your fuzzy berries what do you call these things?" Raven flutter-pecked a third time and Coyote was not quick enough.

"Ouch! Stop that!" he yip-yelped, sitting himself hasty-hard down on his haunches. "Don't damage those! I promised to keep them safe. They belong to my human here. To--er, what is your name, human?"

"Kurramon," I meekly replied. "Dr. Ernest Kurramon."

"Ha!" Coyote grunted, warily eyeing his sharp-beaked avian comrade. "I told you it was earnest. I can sense these things you know."

Raven fixed me with a beady-bright, admiring eye. "Did you really steal Coyote's dangle-bits? That's amazing! Even more amazing he let you live to tell me about it."

"He decided it was funny."

"And it is." Raven replied, chortling. "Reminds me of the time when we--Coyote! Do you remember? That incident with the Dancing-Wolf-Clan shaman and his two--"

"No!" Coyote grumble-growled. "I don't remember and you don't either. Not today. Human! Er... Ernest. May I call you Ernest? Please tell this misbegotten mass of frolicking feather mites what you did with my missing pieces."

"I... uh... I ate them."

Raven collapsed belly-up in laughter, cawing raucously and flailing the rock rubble with quiver-flapping wings. "You ate them? Pray tell me who's idea was that? Not your own, I expect; you don't strike me as the power-mad-shaman type. And a good thing, too! If it was Coyote's idea your curse may be fairly gentle. As curses go."

"It was Coyote's idea. He said he'd give back my old ones if I--"

"If you did a little favor for him? He's getting right to work on that small matter, looks like. Best to let him have his way." Tickle-touch on my flank fur and I whipped around, startled. Coyote was there, grinning smugly. Never saw him move! He touched again, gently nose-bumping the base of my tail, and I danced away from him but not far. His snuffling muzzle felt so nice, exploring me there, overbold but still quite... nice. And it was just a dream-touch after all. Not like that misguided, all-too-real Rottweiler romance which cost me my marriage. I twisted around, investigating, and found my dream-self to be female. Rii-iight, should have guessed, who's dream was this, anyway?

"Coyote--" He bumped again and my tail pulled itself emphatically to one side and yes, I am quite well aware of what that means if you're a canine bitch. I forced the tail down, or half down, but it snapped back as soon as I let it go.

"Coyote--"

His nose ignored my protests and nuzzled downward, shiver-quick tongue taking intimate advantage of my hind end's tail-kinked invitation. Damn, that felt good! Absently I shifted balance, squaring my legs and giving him more room to work.

"Coyote this is a dream, isn't it?"

No words for answer just a breath-catching flutter-fast tongue and a tentative, estrus-testing forepaw across my back. I'm a vet, you know, or was. I recognize the moves when they're used on me. I fidgeted, nervously, aware of Coyote's intent but making no effort to escape. Did I even want to escape? Yes! Of course I did! I darted forward, and sideways, snarling and showing my teeth, but Coyote's snout followed me snake-fast and unshakable, encouraged no doubt by my still-kinked tail. And my scent. I know the heat-scent too. Even humans can recognize it if they're in the business. Strange-strange-strange to smell it now slaughterhouse-strong through a keen coyote nose, and coming from my very own self.

"Coyote! Stop that! You told me I could choose--"

"Choose, did she say?" churr-cawed the raven, hopping close to regard me head-cocked, appraising, neck stretched inquisitively beak to nose, "Coyote, my dear comrade-in-crime, does that mean what I think it means?" He seemed larger now, definitely larger, and something was odd about his wings. They were drooping down, touching leg-like to the ground, like bat wings. Coyote ignored Raven's words, continuing his delightful tongue work, and I panted entranced, savoring, while before me the raven grew larger, four legged now, feathers fluffing out and growing fur-like but still black. He warble-murmured softly, laughingly, and sharp small teeth shone white within his beak.

"Ah... Raven?"

"Yes, Doktar Kurramon?" Raven's beak had grown muzzle-like, feather-furred, no longer a beak at all, and atop his head rose two cupped, fuzzy, quick-twitching canine ears.

Coyote ears.

Coyote ears, and coyote nose, and coyote teeth now too. Everything coyote but the fur, which was still black and fluffed and half-feathery in appearance. Still smelled feathery too! He crept forward, furtively nuzzling my cheek while Coyote continued to seduce my all-too-accommodating other end. My heart was racing, half in fear, but that fear only made the lustful feelings more powerful. I snorted angrily, annoyed by my strange passivity but unable or unwilling to shake it off.

"Raven--" Raven didn't answer and I fidgeted, caught off balance between the two of them, not sure what to do next. "Raven, I don't think--"

"You don't think Coyote is the right mate for you? Not sure this bumbling flea infested bag of bones is quite to your taste? Fear not, mortal, for you have summoned the right god! I shall defend you from him now. And take his place afterward, of course."

Raven oozed smiling past and pushed sideways, forcing Coyote away, and I jumped forward then circled around to watch. They were wrestling now, cheerfully shoulder to shoulder, seeming to forget me now in their playful sport. Sudden movement, too quick to see, and Coyote was down with Raven's new teeth grin-gripping his throat. He snarled and struggled for an instant, pinned, then a flurry of blur-fast movements sent Raven whizzing through the air to slam crashing into a mound of jagged boulders, tumbling several and cracking one in half. He rose up raging, lips curled in savage fury, and--

"Enough," Coyote hissed, flicking an irritated ear, and I found myself bolt-awake, in my bed, shiver-sweating like a storm-shocked mare.

I sat up panicked, panting, then gathered my wits about me and forced myself to relax. Wow. What a dream! Glad that's over. So many, many problems I've solved by simply waking up from troublesome dreams. I sighed in relief and threw off my covers then froze still, in puzzlement. Was that sand I felt in the sheets with me? I had gone to bed clean! I clicked on the bed lamp and squinted hurting against the glare--never seemed so bright before!--brushed the grit together with one hand while my eyes slowly adjusted.

Yup. Sand there beneath my hand, or rather desert dirt--just a few grains--and a scattering of dirt-colored hairs.

Coyote hairs.

Could have been dog hairs, you're thinking, could have dirt on the sheets I never noticed before, but I knew better. No way was I going back to sleep again! Not in that bed, anyway. Almost dawn now, who needs sleep anyway? I shaved and fed and dressed myself looking hard for wayward fur patches but I didn't find any. I was still March-hare-horny, yes, but remained one hundred percent human as far as my eyes could tell. Except... I sniffed the air doubtfully, brushed hesitant fingertips beneath my nose...

...except I didn't smell right.

Kind of, er, doggy.

Dog-like.

Coyote-like.

Damn. Not boding well. I sighed and showered again, lathering my whole body with that neglected bar of sandalwood-scented herbal soap a grateful client had gifted me with so long ago, then drove to the clinic to distract myself with unfinished medical reports and wait for the staff to arrive. Sounds lame, I know, but the practice owner was counting on me and where else was I supposed to go? It seemed a better plan than panicking and babbling out my story and getting myself locked up as a raving lunatic, anyway. A vet clinic is a busy place during business hours. Crazy busy. I still refused to follow Coyote's whore-hunting advice but if I just concentrated all my thoughts on the work at hand, maybe...

...maybe I'd succeed in resisting his curse.

Maybe.

Time passed but--

Was that a claw-scrabble from the roof gutter above my office window? Nah, just my imagination.

--but the fierce concentration I longed for proved elusive and--

Yes! There was something up there! No doubt a rat or some such. Big rat.

--I made little progress on my reports. Outside my window the stars faded, in time, and in time the eastern sky shone black-purple then teal then fire-bright-gold with impending dawn... and suddenly, without warning, outside that window an enormous raven dropped down and hovered flutter-flapping, catching my panicked gaze and grinning gleefully back at me before flutter-flapping flamboyantly away.

I jumped up and rushed to the window but nothing was out there. Nothing I could see. Went outside to wander through the parking lot but nothing out there either. Nothing but my battered white pickup truck and the glossy white farm call van and a gorgeous-bright desert sunrise bursting to joyous life around me. Had it all to myself, looked like; no eldritch dark feathered things lurking anywhere. Too early yet for car traffic on the road.

Damn. Just... damn.

Couldn't think what else to do so I drifted back to my office and killed time until the staff arrived, presented my excuses to them... and braced myself to face my first appointment of the day.

My first appointment was exam and vaccinations for a gorgeous feisty-bold Burmese kitten brought by a zealous-eyed sophomore college student with questions about toxic wheat gluten and grain-free organic raw diets and the evils of corporate-sanctioned carcinogenic vaccine preservatives. She was kind of hot, though--the human not the kitten--and in triumph I cherished the lecherous feelings her too-short shirt and too-tight pants immediately evoked in me. Alright! I can do this! Just need to keep my thoughts focussed on human themes and all this animal-lust nonsense will be--

Next room revealed an ill-tempered elderly chihuahua with her hard-muscled extravagantly tattooed biker bodyguard, and he was kind of hot too. Er... at least he's human, anyway. Gotta say that much. Maybe if I--

Third exam room contained a wolf, the folder said. Name of Ninja, three year old intact female owned by--

A wolf! Rii-iight... who's pulling my leg here? There are no wolves in this town; I've never even examined a wolf before! Must be--

--Ms. Margaret Davenport.

Oh. Petting zoo again. Replacement for Coyote. Ms. Davenport and a colleague were with her right now.

I braced myself and hesitated, grabbed the doorknob and hesitated again, then forced my hand to turn and my body to breeze smiling through the door. Ms. Davenport was in there, of course, ageless desert-tanned and tough as beef jerky, another lady who could have been her sister, and... the wolf.

My eyes locked upon her and my heart stopped short, breath caught burning in my throat. Oh, but she was beautiful! Grizzle-ruffed and golden eyed and slinky-tough-strong and...

...sexy.

"Dr. Kurramon! It's so good to see you again. Let me introduce you to Julia Kingston of the Desert Winds Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. We've been working together for years and when I informed her of Windstrider's escape she told me I simply must consider Ninja here as his replacement! She's a real house-wolf, raised with humans and not shy like so many of them are. Julia says she's gentle and good with children and if Cheeky-Cheeks shows up again she'll be good with him too. What do you think? Please tell me she's healthy!"

"Uh..." The she-wolf had sidled up to me already, nuzzling my hands and rubbing her shoulder fondly against my waist, and my face flushed hot at her touch. I knelt down to greet her properly--I always do that, couldn't help myself--and she threw herself enthusiastically into my arms, snuffle-licking at my neck and ears like a long-lost friend.

"Ah... she's really ah... oof! Ah... affectionate. Is Ninja like this with every new person she meets?" I pushed the wolf away from me, not rejecting just trying to give myself some space, and my fingers tingled strangely in her throat ruff: odd hot tingling like... nah--don't think about it!--Coyote is far away. The wolf stopped wiggling and grew still, neck draped fondly over my fingertips and head cocked sideways in puzzlement, as if listening, then the tingling grew stronger and she shuddered, bark-yipped sharply and tore free from my grasp to scrabble gleeful-mad about the exam room, circling it twice and landing back in my arms again, panting happily. She cuddled hard against me and by habit I ran my hands over her haunches and belly, combining greeting rubs with examination palpation as I always do when the opportunity presents itself. My fingers were tingling more than ever now and my belly was feeling peculiar too, where the wolf's thick-furred tail and hips leaned back against it. She was doing it on purpose--backing herself against my belly like that--but I ignored the unsettling sensations and continued my exam--might as well get it over with--pushing her sideways with one hand and reaching out with the other to lift her tail away so I could see what was beneath it, but at first touch she lifted it for me, quick-flipping the fluffy thing eagerly to one side.

"Ah, you are aware she's in heat," I commented, surveying the wolf's prominent nipples and droop-beaked swollen, gently twitching vulva. She had tensed and hitched it upward in that way bitches have when they're really interested in a male, and she was looking back at me over her shoulder to make it clear that I was the male she was interested in. And as for me, well--I rose up hastily, bringing an early end to Ninja's health exam. Feeling kind of strange, here. Horny, yeah, I mentioned that before, but also very, very strange. That hot tingling... I recognized it, you know. I had recognized it from the first.

It was the transformation magic.

Ninja's heart and lungs and teeth were just fine, no doubt. They'd better be 'cause no way was I going to take this any further! "She's in excellent health," I mumbled, edging toward the the door, "Just keep her away from males until her heat has passed and--"

Ms. Kingston spoke sternly, correcting me. "Surely you're mistaken, Doctor! Ninja completed her cycle just a month ago. She couldn't possibly be in season again so soon."

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. Fingers felt different there. Shorter, maybe. I looked down and saw fur sprouting from my knuckles--grizzled light gray and cream fur--and the fingers really were shorter. "Wolves will show a split heat sometimes," I replied, the words spilling from my lips without the need to think, "It's not dangerous for her, just inconvenient. You simply have to wait a bit longer, until..."

My voice trailed off, clever words forgotten. My hand was still changing but it was not alone. Between my legs now but swelling thicker, growing longer, crawling its way irresistibly upward onto my belly--surely that was not--

"Dr. Kurramon, are you feeling well?" Ms. Davenport inquired, clearly concerned. "Your face is looking...odd."

"Ah... right! That's exactly right; precisely what's the matter with me. Not feeling well. Feeling quite ill, as a matter of fact, not myself at all. Just hit me all of a sudden. Really must be going now." I fled the exam room and made for the rear exit door, calling out an order to the front desk to give Ms. Davenport her exam at no charge and to please cancel all remaining appointments for the day. "I'll call back later!" I promised, "Not feeling well; I'll tell you all about it. Soon. As soon as I can... but maybe you should cancel tomorrow's appointments too."

In the parking area I stumbled onward, eyes pinched half-shut against the sudden sun-glare and shoes flopping loose from quick-shifting feet, but when I reached my truck the keys slipped free from my thickening fingersand fell to the pavement before I could use them. Raven laughter crackled as I knelt down scrabbling, thumbless and tuck-elbowed now, striving in vain to retrieve the wretched things while my shirt buttons strained tight-to-bursting over a rapidly expanding ribcage and my trousers sagged low then slipped down, to the ground, from a narrowing waist. I grew lightheaded, dizzy, swaying unsteadily then slumping forward but catching myself with my hands--no, they were blunt-clawed paws now, not hands--while between my eyes a silvered muzzle pushed forward, whiskered and wet-nosed, and a tickle-shiver from behind told of a tail curling tremulously where none had been before. And new ears, I felt those too, twitching and turning fretfully like those coyote ears had twitched and turned in my coyote-bitch dream.

Damn. That plan didn't go so well. So much for pig-headed stubbornness as a game strategy! A tire caught my eye and I bit it savagely, bursting my shirt from the strain and coaxing forth more raven-laughter from above but causing no harm to the dusty-tough rubber, gnawed and bit again with no greater effect, snarled bitterly and reared up two-footed, or tried to, but tangled underpants and trouser legs brought me crashing down. I kicked them off and clawed myself upright, leaning on the the truck door for balance, and I managed it this time. Sort of. The four footed stance had been more comfortable, though, and who was I trying to fool? I sighed and dropped back, haunch-sitting, snagged off socks and shirt rags with my teeth and spat them out then jerked up, startled, at the soft grinding rumble of car tires rolling into the parking lot. Another client had arrived. Most likely my next scheduled appointment.

No! Can't be seen like this! My truck concealed me for the moment and I tottered backward, unsteady at first but quickly mastering the quadrupedal quick-trot gait, past the farm call van then further back, beyond the clinic utility wing, to that hard-used strip of dog-walk-lawn maintained there for our patients' excretory convenience.

Ha! Safe, for the moment. Above my head a raven circled but I ignored it; flopped down panting to nose about myself, exploring, trying my best to assess in full detail just what Coyote's magic had done to me.

Full four-footed canine, that was obvious enough. Wolf--timber wolf--classic dark-backed gray-muzzled variety, pureblood not a cross, could have been Ninja's brother by the look of me and horny enough to hump her in a heartbeat if she wandered by. Arrrgh! Gotta hump something! Still a male, anyway--not criticizing the female gender mind you, just acknowledging some things are easier when you're male--could I still reverse the transformation if I abandoned my scruples and found me a human female to molest? Kind of kinky but it takes all kinds and Las Vegas was not so far off, hardly an hour's drive... and there was always Craigslist. "Wanted: intimate female companion for highly educated, unquenchably fertile wolven lover who'll get you pregnant for sure and may well gift you with a fur pelt of your own in the process. Species of offspring subject to debate." Not a lie, and could be worth a try. I'd have to find a better place to hang out and gather my wits though. The dog lawn is a popular attraction during business hours and like as not I'd be getting company before too long. Maybe if I crept back to the truck and took up the keys in my teeth I could get the door open and somehow manage to--

"Dozer! Be nice! Just say hello and don't blow it like you did last time."

Huh? The wild schemes fled skittering from my brain and I whipped around to discover a pit bull stalking stiff-legged my way. Big one. Crop-eared. Too big to be purebred; looked like some sort of cross... Great Dane cross, most likely, by the long legs and steel-gray fur. Unleashed intact male with macho-red-neck-miner-type loitering empty-handed behind him.

Instantly I bristled, couldn't help myself, lips curled back and hackles raised high in grim warning. Never had hackles before. They tickle. Idiot. Can't he read the signs? All dogs must be kept on leash at all times! Never mind, never mind, take it easy now, pits and miners are sweethearts when you don't piss 'em off. Most of them. I turned away, half away, forced twitching black lips politely down over over gleaming white fangs. Feigned a friendly tail wag but failed entirely to smooth down that jitter-jacked fur along my back.

The pit stalked closer then hesitated, doubt clouding his heavy-jowled countenance. Tall he was but I was taller--a mature male timber wolf for pity's sake!--and larger all around. Fluffier too so I looked even larger than I was. The hackles help with that you know. That's what they're for. I wagged my tail harder and the pit wagged his stub-tail back for me, meekly polite now, who needs a death-match when you can frolic happily instead? We did that dog-greet-sniffing-thing and it was not so bad, really; not like I'm a stranger to dog butts. I'm a veterinarian.

So yeah, we said hello and I checked him out in my own way. Anal sacs probably healthy (no glove or fingers to check for sure) flea-free, condition and conformation excellent, nice disposition, ears and tail fighting-cropped but no fight scars. Fine strong specimen, all in all, clearly acceptable for... hold on, where did that thought...

Dozer bumped my shoulder and bounced away, daring me to chase him so I did, just a little harmless messing around, gotta let off some steam somehow! Swift-sprang after him and he wheeled back quick as lightning to mock-bite my shoulder before I had a chance to dodge. Too many feet to keep track of. Still clumsy. Good thing we weren't really fighting! Dozer's throat was exposed, on purpose I could tell, so I latched on and sham-snarled noisily until he fell over shimmy-wiggling and whimper-laughing and kicking hard at me with both hind feet. This was fun! Really fun. Never realized how much fun before, just watching. I released my neck hold and slather-gnawed his belly fur, couldn't help noticing the massive erection knot-locked tight in his sheath and I bit that too, not hard enough to hurt. Good luck stud, I gloated. Not your bitch today! Been there done that and I ain't goin' back no mo'. Dozer surged to his feet and I fled yip-laughing until he cut me off and I flopped down panting, too hot to run, four legs flailing and belly bared now to let him have his way. He mock-mauled me and nuzzled eagerly, felt so nice, closed my eyes and melted blissfully into the grass, hind legs spread wide in encouragement while Dozer's blunt muzzle worked tingling lower and... crap! That's the transformation tingle! Panic shook me and I twisted free, scrambled quivering to my feet, walked away or tried to but Dozer frisked wildly after me, deeply interested in my hind end now. Not a good sign. I trotted quicktime past the building corner but he followed quicker so I sat down shoulders hunched, grumble-growling, striving valiantly to suppress the strange raw feelings coursing within me--if I can just focus, focus--gather my wits somehow--maybe even now I might--Dozer left my tail end to cuddle amorously against my side, shattering my fragile concentration with snuffling ear-lick-kisses and--where's your dumb human, dog?

I stole a quick look but saw no human rushing forth to rescue me, snap-snarled at the pit but he thought it all in play. I should have bit him then; that would have done the trick. Should have bit them both.

Dozer wooed on and I hunkered head-down, loll-tongued and panting, striving desperately to focus somehow--to clear my muddled canine brain and feel non-bitchy feelings, think non-bitchy thoughts--thoughts like...

Er... like...

Dozer was nuzzling passionately now, beguiling, bumping hopefully sometimes to make me stand for him and... well...

I did.

Instantly he was at my tail again and--What? What am I doing? Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. Need to stop it. Er... need to stop it now. Ok, ok, not now but soon... yeah... soon--and I kinked it guiltily aside for him, too pleasure-drunk to protest as my lust-swollen lupine cock shrank beneath his tongue licks to a lust-swollen clit and Coyote's curse-gifts tucked themselves tight to my groin, tighter, triumphantly inside. I felt these things but I didn't look, felt other parts changing and didn't look at those either. Didn't even peek back at Dozer when he gave up on the licking part and slipped a shy testing foreleg across my back. Knew what he was up to but lacked the will to tell him no. Later I would do that. Later. When he was not so hot and close and horny and... uhm... available...

Didn't look, didn't think, didn't want to but--

--but I did look at Ninja when she frolic-skipped gayly by my nose.

"Ninners come back here this instant! Bad wolf! Bad, bad wolf!"

The she-wolf wheeled behind us then, smiling slyly, and did something to Dozer's tail end that made him yip in shock and spin quickly to face her. I spun around too, searching, just in time to meet Ms. Kingston's stormy gaze as she wrathfully rounded the building corner.

"Ninja! Stay!" she commanded, pouncing forward to embrace my neck and cinch a slip noose securely around it, "What's got into you, girl? You know better than to run off like that!"

I stood still in Ms. Kingston's arms, not struggling, watching lust-addled and still panting as behind her Ms. Davenport crept up to the real Ninja, coaxing, trying to lure her close, and Dozer crept up to Ninja's other side with similar intent, and his wayward owner at long last sauntered up to make his appearance.

"Dozer! Heel!" he commanded and his dog ignored the order, torn between my own reluctantly seductive self and the brazen new twin-bitch--also deliciously in heat!--who had so mysteriously manifested for him. Who'd have guessed a vet clinic visit could be so much fun!

"Heel, you dumb-ass!" roared the miner, stomping forward to retrieve his dog but chasing him away instead. Chased off the she-wolf, too, just before Ms. Davenport had a proper hold on her.

"Stop that, you idiot!" Ms. Davenport hissed. "If you can't be useful please stay out of the way!"

"Never mind, Meg," Ms. Kingston soothed, "let them go. I've got Ninja so it doesn't matter about the others."

"Julia are you sure? That wolf looks just like Ninja and... and it's a wolf running loose! A full-blooded wolf just wandering unsupervised around a vet clinic parking lot! Doesn't that strike you as a bit odd?"

"Yes, it's a wolf, but it's not my wolf. Its owner will show up soon enough. What's odd is this clinic you've brought me to. Can't fathom why in the world you're so fond of it! That vet--Dr. Kookamon did you say?--I don't think I care for him at all. Strange man. Strange, strange man. Did you notice how he--"

"Dozer!" shouted the miner, clearly enraged now, "Get your worthless ass back here you shit-eating son of a--er... excuse me ma'am. Pardon the language. Gotta go." Dozer had forgotten me and was flirting with the real Ninja now, clearly impressed, and when the miner's next rush drove her back around the building corner he fled gleefully with her, bold blunt nose hotly trailing her heat-kinked tail.

Ms. Davenport was looking after them, clearly perplexed. "Julia are you sure you have the right--"

"Look for yourself, Meg! Do you think I can't recognize my own wolf?" She gripped my head between her two hands and hauled it up nose to nose with her own. "How could I forget a darling sweet face like this? She's got those almond-gold eyes that look right through you and the cutest fuzzy ear tufts and that little white scar on her nose from--"

Ms. Kingston's words died on her lips and she froze still, staring openmouthed at my nose.

"Julia?"

No response.

"Julia, what's wrong?"

"This is not my wolf. Ninja has a scar on her nose from that incident with Taz the bobcat. This wolf does not have such a scar." Ms. Kingston rose to her feet and searched about, confused and troubled; tugged my leash and hurried me off in the direction Ninja had gone. I could have held her back but Dozer was close by that way, very close, and my tail-parts twitched wistfully at his fresh hot scent. A moment more, they wheedled, just a bit more time with him, is that so much to ask? A little tongue-tickle never hurt anybody and it felt so nice --so nice--surely it couldn't hurt to let him--

Arrgh! I forced my tail between my legs and compelled it to stay there, unwilling... but I did permit my nose to follow the lovers' rich scent trail to their hiding place behind the clinic recycling dumpster. Too late to make a difference, though. Far too late. The fugitives were together already, triumphantly knot-tied tail to tail, and Dozer's clever tongue was too busy bliss-licking his own smug snout to--hey everybody, look at me! I screwed a wolf!--to care about my poor neglected nether regions.

"Ninja! What have you done?" Ms. Kingston wailed when she came upon them, then, "Get your rutting horndog off my sweet-wolf-Ninja, you macho balls-for brains asshole!" she shouted out to Dozer's owner, who was seeking his lost companion among the parked cars across the lot from us.

"Pardon ma'am," he called back politely, "didn't quite catch that. Have you seen my--"

"Your dog's over here, you idiot, copulating with my bitch. What were you thinking, letting him run around loose like that?"

"My dog loose?" he protested, running over to join us but making no attempt to separate the happy lovers, "Your dog is the one in heat!"

"Ninja is not a dog. She is a full-blooded timber wolf and she can't possibly be in heat right now. Clearly your dog has raped her. Maggie hold this leash please." Ms. Kingston searched her pockets for writing materials, found them, turned belligerently to face the miner. "What is your name, young man?" she demanded, pen at ready.

"No need to get yerself all riled, ma'am, if there's vet bills to pay from this I'll pay 'em. And I'll take the pups too, if you don't want 'em. Heck I'll buy em from you! Does five hundred each sound about right? The name's Logan, by the way. Charles Logan but folk call me Chuck. Is she really a wolf? That's so cool! I thought they looked kinda wolfy but..."

The humans had forgotten me so I pushed up close to the mating pair, fascinated, nosed the hot pulsing place where they were joined; where Ninja's dark folds stretched slick-wet and bulging around the base of Dozer's enormous, deep-embedded knot--

"... thought they was both yours! And with the male that makes three, so go figure. Speaking of which, has anyone seen..."

--filled my nose with the heady fragrance while Ninja whined softly at my touch. She sighed and stretched long, pulling at their tie while Dozer's slow pulses grew faster in response, stronger, each pulse delivering a fresh new squirt of potent hot dog sperm to Ninja's well-filled womb. To my womb, it might have been; quite certainly I had one now! I clenched new muscles, testing them, and felt a sweet deep tugging I had never felt before, nosed low beneath my tail and found the slit-peaked lupine vulva lurking there as suspected, heat-swollen and lust-tense and quiver-touch sensitive. I felt a tingle--

"...of course he was a male! I saw his package clear as day when Dozer rolled him over, playing..."

--a soft tingling caress--and whipped around startled to find Dozer nuzzling my darling cute fuzzy-tufted ear. "Your turn's next, bitch," he was thinking, I know he was. I was thinking it too, and--

"... not stupid, ma'am, despite what you keep saying. Perhaps we should..."

--I returned his caress willingly enough, resigning myself to the inevitable. What a difference a day makes! Yesterday I was fretting about unpaid bills, today a very personal sort of unplanned pregnancy but Coyote's curse was just too strong to fight. He held all the advantage and it was only a matter of time until--

My neck snapped back as the leash around it jerked suddenly tight; tight enough to get my attention but not enough to hurt. "Come along, stranger," Ms. Davenport commanded, "This conversation's going nowhere and we need to get you scanned for a chip. Your owner's no doubt shitting bricks wondering where you've got off to."

We quickstepped toward the vet clinic entranceway and once again I went uncomplaining, but as we passed my truck I stopped short, ruefully regarding the clothing scraps and other personal items scattered on the pavement around it. Ms. Davenport noticed them too. "What's all this stuff here?" she muttered, toe-nudging a crumpled shirt-rag and stooping to retrieve my keychain then stopping in mid-movement, puzzled. She looked around herself, really looked, and backed herself carefully away. "Something's not right here," she whispered, clearly alarmed now, "come along, we need to call 911." She tugged my leash and I neck-snapped it away from her, plucking it easily from her grasp, then seized the keys in my teeth and tossed them awkwardly at the truck bed, missing first time but doing better on my second try. While Ms. Davenport looked on unprotesting I gathered my other possessions and tossed them one by one in the truck bed then jumped up myself to nose them together, in a corner, ragged cloth scraps on top and valuables buried carefully below.

"This is not a 911 sort of a problem, is it?" she asked of me as I sprang down from the truck bed and took the leash end in my mouth, then gently offered it back to her. I shook my head no and she accepted the leash and we proceeded sedately, but not at all calmly up to and through the stylish faux-oak clinic entrance doors.

No microchip was detected, of course, and a half hour of pleasant socialization revealed no hint of recognition from my puzzled but deeply sympathetic staff. I looked like Ninja, uncannily like her, but what sort of good did that do me? Job was taken already. "Looks like you've caught yourself a wolf," one staffer joked as she snapped a photo for the animal shelter website and the clinic's lost-pet bulletin board. "We're running about five percent recovery for un-chipped pets. If you decide you don't want her bring her back here! Your petting zoo is the best place for her but you can count on us for help if that doesn't work out."

"Thank you so much for your support!" Ms. Davenport told him, meaning every word, and we left the building just as Dozer and Ninja came trot-smiling back in, untied now but still very much wrapped up in each other. Their humans were smiling too--Dozer's human broadly, Ninja's human sheepishly, like she had embarrassing news to tell.

"Maggie," she began, "Mr. Logan and I have been discussing matters and--"

"Just call me Chuck, ma'am"

"Chuck and I have been discussing matters and we've agreed to... ah... we've agreed to..."

"She's agreed to sell me her wolf! Five thousand cash, right here right now. Don't you worry ma'am, she'll be happy with Dozer and me. Just as happy as she would've been at the petting zoo."

"Maggie I'm sorry but--"

"--but five thousand dollars is a lot of money for a shoestring wildlife rehab center? Tell me about it! The petting zoo was like that too until I got my specialty niche worked out. Take the money I say, but..." She turned on Mr. Logan, glaring fiercely up at his cheerful innocent face, "... if either of us hears a word about bad treatment I _promise_you--"

"Shush ma'am, don't you fret, I know good from bad and I promise you won't find cause for regret. Oh and by the way... any of your other wolves for sale?" He pointed a scar-gnarled index finger at me. "That one, for instance?"

"I am sorry sir," Ms. Davenport replied, voice tightly neutral and eyes fixed intently on mine, "but I am not at liberty to make a decision of that nature. It is agreeable to learn you and Ms. Kingston have come to an understanding and I wish you both the best of fortune. Good day." And that was that; she shook my leash and we were out the door without another word. Bye Ninja. Bye Dozer. Have a nice life.

In the parking lot we passed my truck and I lingered there, ears down and tail wagging uncertainly. "Did you need a ride?" Ms. Davenport inquired and I looked up quickly to meet her eyes, wagged some more and smiled shyly. Nodded yes. On the clinic roof a raven croaked chattily and I ignored it, or pretended to. No doubt I'd be encountering the creature again.

Ms. Davenport extracted my keys from their hiding place and drove us not to my place or hers but to the mountains south and east of town, up a sand-rutted arroyo road and through a battered ranch gate to a sheltered north-slope canyon smelling of junipers and piñon pines and desert-desiccated cow dung.

"You can stay here if--oof!--if you like--" Ms. Davenport informed me as she opened her door and I squashed her ungraciously against the steering wheel on my way out, not waiting for my own door to be opened. Such interesting smells! Sagebrush blossoms and rodent-gnawed piñon cones and... and packrat it must be, in this hole here beneath the dirt-mounded tangle of ancient brush twigs... or maybe ground squirrel. Still kind of new to the scenting business but close by was a massive burrow complex complete with frantic alarm-whistling sentinel squirrels. Nice ones! Lovely dark fat mountain squirrels, not the scrawny pale lowland kind. Stood to reason this might be an outlier tunnel of some sort. I poked my nose deeper into the entrance, snorting deeply to get a better scent, backed out and scrabbled at it with my front paws--

"--if you promise not to eat Uncle Stanley's cows--"

--yes, definitely ground squirrel... same scent as the burrow complex... and fresh! New one, just started, couldn't be more than three or four feet deep. Occupied, too. I could hear it breathing in there, trapped, waiting helplessly for its doom to come digging behind and--

"--nice little spring on the other side of the ridge and I'll bring you food so you don't have to kill anything. Or you can stay at the petting zoo, of course--"

--and what was I doing? I wasn't even hungry! Ok, ok, I was kind of hungry but I'd made myself a nice breakfast before... before things changed. Had my breakfast gone the way of those eighty pounds of surplus human body mass I'd somehow lost track of? Couldn't be over a hundred now but... never mind, never mind, hurt too much to think about it. Surely I could survive a few hours without hunting down small furry critters to devour messily before Ms. Davenport's accusing eyes. I turned away from the squirrel hole, pretending to lose interest. Frightening how fast I was slipping into the bloodthirsty predator role but I didn't have to give in! Of course I didn't.

"--are you even listening to me?"

"Oh! Uh... sure I'm listening. I was just distracted by--" I stopped mid-sentence, toothy jaws frozen in shock. "Wait. I'm talking!"

"You're talking!"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"Wolves can't talk!"

"Sorry, my mistake. I'll try to keep that in mind."

"You are Dr. Kurramon! Why didn't you say anything before?"

"Uh... I don't know... never thought to try... and my head was out the truck window so I couldn't--

"--couldn't--" I felt a tickle and half-snorted, twisted sideways and sneezed three times in quick succession, felt better. "Sorry about that. Dirt in my nose. So... ah... yeah. I'm Dr. Kurramon, I guess. Can't think of what else to call myself. Coyote did this to me."

"And your little... ah... gender adjustment thing? Coyote did that too?"

"Yes."

"Dr. Kurramon I'm so sorry! This is all my fault! If I hadn't demanded--hadn't asked you to--"

"Never mind, we all make mistakes." I sighed and eased myself down, to the ground, chin nuzzling deep in the gritty dust. This spot was as comfortable as any. Shaded for now, until the sun moved further west, and there was no place else I could think of to go to. No place else at all.

Ms. Davenport settled cross-legged beside me and rested a comforting hand across my shoulders, and I didn't shrug her away. Really wasn't her fault. The scrubbed-barnyard scent of her shoes tickled my nose and I snaked my neck closer to scent them properly. No doubt she thought them clean but some smells are slow to fade. The bare ankles above them were clean enough, certainly. Smooth and pale, too--much smoother than the skin of her hands and face. The desert sun does that to one, you know. Ages the exposed parts rapidly. This woman was younger than she looked...

...this woman...

...human female...

...Coyote's tongue-in-cheek cure to my curse...

I nose-brushed an ankle, hesitantly, and drew back quickly before she could move away. Too late to help me now but still... just a thought of course, only pretend but... I closed my eyes and sought within myself, sniffing out the source of Coyote's magic, and found it. Boiled forth eagerly at my touch. Yikes! Never thought it would come to me at all, much less so powerfully! Never mind just focus, focus... last chance here so don't blow it this time... dreamed myself human, and male, caressing that ankle with nimble-soft human lips and flicking over it, ever so gently, with the skillful quick tip of my thick human tongue. She would welcome that, in my dream, and the knee would shift helpfully sideways as I swept around to the inside calf, the fur beneath my tongue growing softer and... hold on, what was that... and thicker as my tail slipped seductively sideways and my muzzle nuzzled coyly upward along a quivering, rut-fragrant inner thigh. My lover would whimper and hip-buck then, passions mounting at last beyond control and... wait, wait, that's not right, something's not right here... and in one swift movement he'd gain his feet and seize me wildly from behind, hump-hooking tight with corded forelegs and probing deftly, masterfully, quick-slithering in then thrusting deep, and--no! Got to stop this! I shifted fretfully, meaning to twist away but brushing ankle skin instead and--

Wham! Coyote's lust-magic surged out from me through that contact point and sank instantly, avidly, into Ms. Davenport's unprotected flesh.

"Yikes! What was that?" she yelped, scrambling hastily to her feet.

"Oops. Ah... sorry about that. Are you alright?"

"Sure, I'm fine," she assured me after a moment's thought. "Felt really strange though. Almost like--" Ms. Davenport hesitated.

"Like what?"

"Like I wanted to--" Ms. Davenport eyed me strangely and shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "Never mind. We'll talk about it later maybe. Still feel kind of funny. Think I need to go... to be by myself for a bit. Don't follow me." She turned and stumbled off downslope, into the juniper-brush, and I didn't follow her.

Huh. That didn't go so well. Just cursed the crap out of my one and only human friend. I settled again and sighed, despondently. Still horny though, despite my foul mood. Horny as a she-wolf in heat. Why did I keep thinking I could prevail against Coyote's will? Movement flickered in the burrow entrance and I ignored it, or tried to. Stupid squirrel--why don't you just stay where you are? Sure your burrow stub's a death trap but it's a long way to the main complex and there's a wolf out here waiting for you! You know--wolf? Darwin's hit man? Eats you raw for breakfast and wants your mamma too?

Sometimes feelings are more powerful than good sense, and who am I to criticize? Claw-scrabble warned me and then the squirrel was making its move, darting panic-stricken from the burrow entrance, leaping right over one outstretched forepaw and landing right under the other. Couldn't help myself, caught it without thinking, just slapped it down with my free paw and stretched out my neck to finish it off.

Or play with it. Wolves do that too, you know. Just like cats. Clearly I was a wolf now so... no. Not that far gone yet. I lifted my foot to set the creature free and it just lay there, dead or unconscious. Oh, well. Looked like it wasn't much good for playing with anyway. I sniffed it over and it stirred, ever so slightly, so I lick-nuzzled its neck and sniffed it some more, flipped it with my nose and saw it was male--fuzz-furred dark scrotum still rounded and rut-heavy despite the lateness of the season. Must be the altitude. Spring comes later in the high country. You feeling lucky, little guy? Wanna hump me too? Everyone else does! I nudged him and the squirrel shuddered in groggy horror then curled himself tight, lost to all hope, awaiting his death as a soft small terrified ball. Nah, not in the mood, looked like.

I sniffed him again, licked him gently here and there. Smelled really interesting! Good enough to eat... but more than that. Coyote's magic had not faded with Ms. Davenport's departure and I felt it still seething restlessly within me: bored and powerful, powerful and bored, hungering for something fun to do. My tiresome fussing did not please it but... the squirrel was fun. The squirrel was interesting. The squirrel was... sexy.

Arrghh! No-no-no-no-no... not again! I leapt to my feet and fled the cursed creature but it was too late. The magic was making its move already, gleefully taking hold, triumphantly transforming--

--transforming me.

I ran this way, that way, crawled uselessly beneath the truck but... how can you run from yourself? How can you hide?

My wolf legs were the first to go, growing shorter but no less powerful, with chisel-sharp digging claws where wind-swift running claws had been before. I remember jaw-pops and gut-gurgles--and strange sweet shudder-twitches beneath my tail--but the changes struck me faster then and I grew dizzy with them, trembling, flopping down helplessly on the ground until they had ceased. I lifted my head at last, cautiously--cute blunt squirrel head now--quivered my darling round squirrel ears... and gnash-clicked my knife-like yellow squirrel incisors in helpless rodent rage.

The truck loomed larger above me, much larger, and the rest of the world was larger too. Larger and scarier. No surprise there! Ground squirrels are the favorite prey for pretty much everything out here that eats meat. Never mind, never mind, not a bitch no more so no more bitching. Tired of it. Time to track down Ms. Davenport and find what sort of trouble she had got herself into. Had my suspicions, of course, but--

Yup. Suspicions confirmed. Found her sprawled on the dusty bare dirt, shock-frozen, staring helplessly at her shoeless left foot. Shoeless furry left foot. Wolf foot.

"Ah... Ms. Davenport? Are you ok?" Dumb question but all I could think of to say. At least I still retained my ability to talk!

Ms. Davenport looked around herself, puzzled. I was haunch-sitting in plain sight but her eyes skipped over me to search anxiously through the juniper scrub behind. "Dr. Kurramon? Is that you? I told you not to follow me! But never mind that. I think I have a problem." She looked around again and called out: "Dr. Kurramon? Can you hear me? Your voice is very faint."

"I'm right here!"

Ms. Davenport's attention fastened on me and her jaw dropped slack in astonishment. "Dr. Kurramon?" she whispered, tilting her head to one side and peering closely with one eye open and one closed, and then switching eyes for a long moment before giving up on the project and regarding me sternly with both at the same time.

I hunched my back and drooped my tail down, uneasily. Tough news to tell her and she looked exceedingly large from my humble new angle of view. "You should call me Ernest," I stalled, courage running low.

"Pardon? Couldn't quite catch that; you'll have to speak up if you want me to hear you."

"Ernest!" I chirped. "Or Ernestine if that sounds better to you. Still having troubles with my... ah... my gender identity."

"Oh! Er... right. Guess you should call me Maggie, then. Or Meg. Margaret I'm not so fond of and Margaret Lynn means I did something bad. So what happened? Why do you keep changing? Is it contagious? Please tell me what's going on with my foot!"

"Foot? Did you say foot?" Meg nodded tight-lipped and I hunkered nervously, braced to flee.

"Well... ah... yes. The foot. I... ah... sorry about that but--" She twitched a hand and I sprang back squirrel-quick, unthinking, wasting no time when my fluffy soft hide was on the line.

"You're sorry? Is that sorry as in... you did this to me?"

"Please... let me explain!" I chittered, peering timorously down from the safety of a nearby juniper snag. My tail was lash-snapping in agitation, couldn't make it stop, and my chest clenched tight with the need to whistle out an alarm to the world.

"Never mind the explanations," Meg demanded, "just make it go away!"

"Meg, I'm not sure I can do that."

"Why not?"

"Well you see I'm not quite..."

"Not quite what? Spit it out, dirt-rat!" Meg rose to her mismatched feet and tottered closer so I braced myself to flee again, claws gripping tight to the splintered wood and--

--and monstrous dark wings whistled down from the sky behind, driving me chitter-screaming into her astonished arms.

"Not quite in control of the magic that's shaping you," Raven elucidated, pulling up hard from his dive to pinwheel elegantly above our heads and flutter gently to rest upon the snag-perch just vacated by me.

I cowered in Meg's arms, heart racing, and Meg's heart was racing too. "Who is this guy?" she whispered to me and "Raven," I whispered back, too softly for her to hear. I opened my mouth to try again and the unnerving bird saved me the trouble.

"Yes," he replied. "I am Raven, and my hearing is quite good. Now as I was saying, Coyote has cursed your companion with a part of his own very personal magic; that part which even he has trouble keeping under control, and by your kindness you've been caught up in it as well."

Meg looked from Raven to me and her hands twitched loose, spilling me gracelessly to the stony ground. I rolled and shook myself, irritated, drew a breath to protest and thought better of it. Raven's attention was on Meg, for the moment, and that was not a bad thing. Not a bad thing at all.

Meg was flummoxed, clearly at a loss for words, and who could blame her? She made to speak and only a single word came out.

"But--"

"No mortal can tame such power, it is true--"

"What--"

"--but it need not destroy you! Simply play along, don't make a fuss, and you may emerge unharmed from Coyote's game. Maybe. Mostly. If you're lucky. I've dropped by today to invite you both to try."

"Game? What game? How do we play along?"

"Seek him and beg mercy, of course! Amuse him. Bring food. Outwit him if you can. I'll even help you with that part!" Raven dropped down from his tree perch and flapped straight at me--he had not forgotten me at all!--stabbed true for my tail and--

"Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!" I kicked free and ran scrabbling for cover, found a dead branch to hide me and peered out trembling, tail-sore and suspicious. Raven had landed and stood now motionless, concentrating, a wisp of my fur clenched tight in his savage beak.

"You asshole!" I shrilled. "Why did you do that?"

He ignored my protests and held himself motionless, concentrating, then melted smoothly into a duplicate of me. Not some feathered black mockery but a true flawless copy: sensible gray-tan ground squirrel colored, safe-soft ground squirrel sized, earthy-rich ground squirrel scented...

Me scented.

Raven had copied my new scent along with my form. Female ground squirrel scent. In heat. He scampered close--she scampered close--Raven likes me to keep those little details straight--and touched me gently nose to nose. "How am I doing?" she purred. "Did I get it right?" She sniffed me carefully, testing, rubbed a furry-soft shoulder fondly against mine and... was gone.

Gone, or rather gone inside: hot wet skin touch and Raven was heartbeat deep within me, flesh-melded, surging fever-flush-hot through blood and lungs and bones.

I stood transfixed, paralyzed by a sensation not sexual this time just... different. Not different like in the transformation magic but different-different. Different in a different way. I felt a twitch and one foreleg lifted eerily, without my command, touched my cheek to stroke it softly then dropped eerily, by itself, to the ground. My spine tingled and I stretched, again without intent, then my senses swirled and I was myself again, or so it seemed, huddled by a squirrel-double indistinguishable from myself. She eyed me hard and nodded smugly, clearly pleased, then whipped around and nipped herself on the thigh. "Did you feel that?" she enquired, watching closely for my reaction.

"Ah... no," I replied. "Should I have?"

"Ha! Nailed it! Was that slick or was that slick? Just you wait 'till Coyote feels the business end of that spell! Don't tell him now, it'll spoil the surprise! Kindly hold still while I tidy things up." I held still while Raven meticulously examined herself, and me, then gently licked my nose and...

"... Ernest? Can you hear me? Ernest?" Hands came down softly and scooped me up, high up from the ground, and held me close. "Ernest are you alright?

Damn. Crazy-bird had knocked me out again. This was getting old. "Hmmm... Meg? Uh... I'm fine. I guess. Raven's been messing with me but nothing's changed this time. I think. Raven are you done yet? Please say yes."

He was back in bird form, no doubt male again but who can tell with ravens, perched upon the juniper snag and looking smug. "Nothing's changed, you say? Excellent! Excellent! Guess I'll be going now, in that case. See you soon and don't forget the food." He spread his wings to leave us and--

"Wait!" Meg cried.

Raven waited. "Yes?"

"What...uh... what kind of food?"

"Hot and greasy is best," he replied, wing-stroking powerfully straight up above our heads. "And salty. Coyote is at his best with a grain of salt."

"But where do we find him?" Meg called, and "Dr. Kurramon knows!" the irksome bird replied. He laughed a feathery black laugh in the white-bright sunshine and wheeled hard left, behind a rock spire, but failed to appear on the other side.

"Raven?" Meg softly called, expecting no answer, then lifted me up to glare at me a glint-eyed human glare. Those hard blue eyes were enormous to me, half the size of my head, and would have terrified me even without a cowardly small squirrel heart beating between my toothpick ribs.

"So what do we do now?" she demanded, massive rough teeth crashing inches from my quivering nose

"Ah... visit with Coyote?" I peeped, twisting my head away to avoid the horrifying spectacle. Pain-twinge distracted me and I nosed a sore spot on my right thigh, small fresh wound, still bleeding. Looked just like the nip Raven had inflicted on herself. Same location, too. Hmmpf. How did that get there? Even in my distraught state I couldn't help wondering.

"And..." Meg shook me gently but I curled up tighter and refused to answer. She could crush me in her hands but I was not going to look at that face anymore. Not from so close.

"Raven says you know where he is," she prompted, fingers relaxing and the harshness fading from her voice. Clearly my terror was evident even to her.

"He's... he's on the peak of Mt. Charleston guarding some sort of interdimensional portal. He says something's trying to break through and he wants to say hello."

"So you think we should follow Raven's advice and go there too?"

I uncurled myself and crawled up Meg's shirt to perch on her shoulder. Felt much better there. "Maybe. Maybe not. We're screwed but there's no trouble so bad you can't make it worse with a little inspired stupidity."

"But look at that!" Meg demanded, pulling back her pant leg to show the fur line creeping upward along her calf. "It's still spreading, I can feel it! When's it going to stop? Will I go all the way like you did?"

"Er... maybe. Can't tell for sure. When the magic transformed me it was a lot faster, so maybe... no. I just can't say."

"So what am I supposed to do about it? Are you saying I should just sit on my ass and hope for the best? And what about you? Do you like being ground squirrel? It's a short hard life the books say."

"Meg--how long did you have Coyote at your petting zoo?"

"What?" She hesitated a moment, counting days, then shook her head ruefully. "Only a couple months, now I think of it. Maybe three. Seems like so much longer!"

"Meg, please listen to me. You believe you know Coyote but you're wrong. He's crazy! I've talked to him and the dude's raving crazy! Suppose he decides a wolf's life is too good for you and makes you a dung beetle instead? Or just plain kills you? I'm the one who cut him but it was by your request. He might remember that, you know."

"Raven says we should go there."

"You trust Raven? He's crazy too."

"Well yeah, and so am I. I'm going there now while I can still drive. You wanna come along?"

"I..."

"Suit yourself. Best hop off now 'cause I'm in a hurry. Give my regards to the hawks and rattlesnakes and I'll come back to see you some time, if I can." She picked up her useless left shoe and--

"I... I think I'll come too," I squeaked, holding tight to my shoulder perch as she wobbled back to the truck, fired it up, and drove us crazy-ass fast down the rutted ranch road we'd come in on then bounced crazy-ass faster over a marginally better one before popping out on the eerie-smooth asphalt of U S Route 95. We drove faster then, screaming north near ninety on the straightaways while Meg's left leg grew shorter and she fidgeted constantly, trying in vain to find comfort on a bench seat never designed with her fast changing backside in mind.

"Fuck! I think I'm sprouting a tail," she muttered as we careened wildly northward, nearing Vegas now, past billboards and factory outlets and the first big outlier casinos. Close ahead the massive gilded monuments of downtown were already in clear view.

"Good thing this truck's an automatic," she growled, grizzled gray fur forming thick now on her neck and back and other places. Her clothes hid most of it but I could see the fabric lifting up puffily from the lush growth rising beneath. Face still not too bad. "Damn crooked wolf leg's too short to reach the clutch pedal if you had one. Don't know what I'm gonna do if the other one goes wonky on me."

"Meg slow down! There's a speed trap past that offramp ahead. And we need to stop here anyway to buy food."

Meg braked hard to make the offramp and I claw-clutched harder, striving valiantly to maintain my precarious shoulder perch. "Ouch!" she yelped. "That hurts! Do you really need to dig in your claws like that?"

"Yes, Meg. I do. And you're still going too fast. Is your plan to get us both killed now and save Coyote the trouble? I think it's working."

Meg ignored my snarky comments and slowed down smoothly, without skidding, even deigning to stop at the red light intersection that so rudely blocked her path. "So, little rat, you think that chicken place to our left is a good choice? It has a drive up window. I don't think I ought to be leaving the truck just now."

I peered down at Meg's loose-trousered but clearly lupine left rear leg with its sausage-like tail bulge tucked beside and agreed. I noticed another bulge higher up, between the mismatched legs, and scented a scent...

Wolf scent yes, of course... but not wolf bitch. Did she know yet? Don't mention it, not now, gotta drive. Driving crazy-ass-fast was perhaps not such a bad plan after all.

We chose the chicken place and bought a bucket of extra crispy thigh pieces, or rather Maggie did. I had thought it best to conceal myself since she--since he--was having troubles enough without a darling adorable pet squirrel on his shoulder to explain away. His face still looked near-human but the ears had grown distinctly pointy to my eye. And the teeth; they were sharper for sure. Credit card worked just fine.

"There you go, ma'am. And here's some water too, no extra charge. Sure you're feeling alright? You can stop and rest in the parking lot if you like. Until you're feeling better, that is. Or I could call for--"

"No! I'm fine! Thank-you-for-your-excellent-service-and-I-think-I'll-be-going-now." Meg pulled away not quite screeching his tires and we were on the road again, not so very far from our destination. The Mount Charleston turnoff is barely north of town.

And a good thing, too! We passed the city center gracefully enough but Maggie's right leg went wolfy soon after that so he was forced to unclip his seat belt and slouch way down to maintain contact with the gas pedal. His torso had grown longer so he could still see over the dashboard but the position looked distinctly strange to me, and not at all comfortable. Not that the other drivers noticed Meg's slouching posture, of course. It was the full-formed wolven muzzle and quick-twitching lupine ears that caught their attention as we rocketed madly northward. Such a real-looking costume! Dress rehearsal for some hot new Vegas show, no doubt.

South loop trailhead held several parked cars but no living witnesses to our arrival. That was convenient, exceedingly convenient, since Meg stopped our progress more by running my truck into a dirt bank than by controlled use of the brake pedal. Not blaming him now, I could have done no better. He killed the engine and withdrew the key with clumsy paw-fingers and we spilled out triumphant, laugh-snort-giggling with gleeful relief. "Maggie you dog-brain! How many times did you almost kill us? I lost count."

"Aw-roo... uh... er... hhrrgh--kruggh. Huh." Meg snapped shut his toothy maw and looked puzzled, then angry, then exceedingly sad.

"Trouble talking?" I asked, and he nodded glumly in response. "You'll get better with a little practice," I soothed, not at all sure the words were true. I had Coyote's magic to help me but Meg--

"Pffulll... ssshhhisss!"

--looked like Meg was on her own. His own. "Come on, Comrade, looks like you're losing your fingers so we need to get those clothes off while you can still work the buttons."

Meg nodded doubtfully, stripped off his useless human clothes and--"Hrruugh!"--grunt-gaped in shocked chagrin at the new male-style wolf parts residing between his hind legs.

"Uh... you didn't know?" I squeaked, backing nervously into the shelter of my truck's left front wheel well. "Thought you would have felt the changes and guessed by now..."

Meg ignored my words and gingerly touched himself with a paw-like furry hand. He sniffed the hand then turned on me furiously, glaring down growl-grumbling at my cringing small edible self.

"It's not my fault!" I squeaked. "Really it's not. Even Raven said so!" Meg snorted and growled again then shrugged and turned away to gather up his cast off clothes and tie them in a bundle-bag around our deep-fried peace offering and his useless pair of human shoes. And my shoes, he fetched those too, bless his wolfish grumpy heart. Trousers too. Dug them out from their hiding place on the pickup bed. Didn't bother with the clothing scraps. Meg's fingers were growing shorter now, changing even as he worked, and only his strong teeth allowed him to cinch the knots once placed. I longed to help him but lacked the courage to leave my wheel-well sanctuary and what can one itty bitty little squirrel do, anyway, with something so big and heavy?

Without a sound Meg took up his bundle and left me, commencing two-legged up the mountain but soon tripping on the rough path and dropping down to four. He rose up and tottered, just managed to pick up his bundle and--

"Meg I don't think that's going to work..."

--stumbled again. He eyed the tribute bundle sourly then snagged a tag end in his jaws and set off grimly four-footed, head raised high to keep the awkward thing from dragging in the dirt.

I followed him meekly. And silently. Folks say squirrels are chatterboxes but I didn't feel like chattering. Not just then. Felt no desire to draw more of Meg's attention.

I had to do that anyway, of course, before we'd gone so very far. What a big place the world is when you're a teeny tiny little squirrel! I was strong enough, had plenty of energy at first, but squirrels are not marathon runners. Wolves are, but not squirrels.

"Meg! Meg--huff--wait up! Please wait up! I don't think I can make it all the way."

Margaret Lynn set his bundle down and waited for for me, one hundred percent wolf now; a hot stud wolven lover I had made. Not so sexy to me now, definitely not sexy. You may trust my advice that squirrels just don't feel turned on by monstrous deadly squirrel-eating carnivores, regardless of gender or potential gender.

"Meg... huff... do you suppose I could... huff... like, ride a bit? On you back? Until I've had a chance to rest? I don't weigh much... don't weigh much now... so I thought..."

"Hruff," the giant wolf responded, mood clearly improved by a little vigorous legwork in the pine-sweet mountain air. A good walk in the open countryside always makes one feel better unless one is a ground squirrel, in which case a safe deep burrow is much to be preferred. I hopped aboard and fidgeted, settled myself nervously up high, between his thick-ruffed shoulders, and kept that perch warily, all the way to the top. When we reached it Meg was panting heavily but not from my weight nor from working hard. I really did weigh next to nothing and the steep hiking trail was nothing to a healthy wolf. It was the heat that did it. Direct sun-heat, mostly, from our exposed route up the mountain's sun baked southern slope. Could have been worse, though. A lot worse. The season was early and the afternoon late, and we had stopped several times to rest or hide from hikers coming down. Had some troubles with the hiding part but Coyote and Raven certainly didn't! As we cleared the slope and wandered up onto Mount Charleston's flat broad summit two rocks shimmered and melted to reveal the pair of them standing casually, waiting, obviously pleased to see us both.

Loud harsh greeting-caw from Raven and, "Ah! Visitors!" dripped from Coyote's sweet-slick silver tongue. "You would be Ernest, of course; I can sense our resonance--but who's this handsome fierce wolf come up to see me? You feel familiar too but I can't quite place the connection..."

"Hrupff yyoll-ssh!" the wolf snarled and "Margaret Davenport, Your Worship," I hastily clarified.

"Ah yes, of course. Margaret Lynn Davenport of Furry Friends Intimate Petting Zoo and Wedding Chapel. Home of the world-famous Plutonium Plus Rum Punch. Perhaps I remember you after all."

"Meg is that true? I never guessed you ran that sort of a petting zoo!"

The wolf drooped his ears and looked away, embarrassed.

"It all makes sense now!" I squeaked. "That's just the sort of establishment this trickster guy would be attracted to. Coyote tell me straight, did you really--"

"And how may I be of service to you today?" the tawny trickster interrupted, stepping forward to loom over me in a daunting predatory sort of way, monstrous grim squirrel-crushing jaws parted just above my head. Drooling.

"Er... never mind the petting zoo thing. We would like you to change us back please. Sir. If that's not too much trouble. Back to--yipe!--back to the way we were. And we brought food with us! Yes! Delicious succulent not-squirrel food! Fried chicken-extra-crispy-in-case-you-like-that-sort-of-thing-better-than..."

Coyote leaned lower and his toothy jaws parted wider and--

--and I passed out.

Yes I passed out but no, I didn't do it from sniveling rodent-brained squirrelish terror. Coyote had used his magic on me. The transformation magic, quick-strike version. When I woke I was a wolf again, fertile in heat wolf bitch with Coyote leering down enchantingly randy-scented and Margaret--

--and Margaret Lynn Davenport was human again, female, just the way she was.

In kindergarten.

"Coyote no!" I wailed. "That's not what we meant! We need to be--"

Coyote breathed out softly, laugh-singing a song that shiver-shook my bones, and when my senses cleared Meg was once more a wolf, female wolf this time and I--

--I was a ground squirrel.

Male ground squirrel.

In rut.

"No no no, that's not right either!" I chattered. "We need to be--you know--like we were before I met you. Just before. Just one day, let's say."

"Oh dear oh dear," Coyote purred. "that will be much harder, I'm afraid. You see I--"

"He doesn't want to!" drawled Raven, rattling his feathers in cheerful corvine glee, "He's having far too much fun to let you get away yet."

"Hmmpf!" Coyote snorted, flipping his flank to nudge Raven from his rock perch into a cholla cactus growing conveniently beside. "I shall not gift that vile slur with the dignity of an answer. "As I was saying--"

The big bird rolled tight and emerged miraculously undamaged, peck-plucked a cholla segment by its thorns and paused a moment strangely still, black-diamond-eyes pinched tight in concentration, then hurled the vicious thing arrow-straight at Coyote, who dodged smoothly sideways so it stuck in me instead.

"Yow!" I squealed, shaking it loose with a hard hind leg kick. "Ow ow ow ow. Thanks a lot, guys." Damn thing left thorns in me but they always do. My formidable new rodent incisors made quick work of pulling them out.

"As I was saying--" Coyote continued, unperturbed, "--that will be harder but not impossible. We must join together and attune our energies--touching noses will do--and you, too, Ernest! Quit your fussing and come closer now. I promise I will not eat you! Yes, yes, that's better. Now Ernest this is your time to shine; your big chance to show us all the stuff of which you are made! Simply focus your thoughts--carefully this time--and I personally shall make them real."

"You mean, focus on being human again and you'll change me back? I tried that and it didn't work."

Coyote cheek-stroked me gently, near knocking me off my feet, and murmured softly "Yes, of course you failed, but this time I'll be helping you."

Helping me how, I wondered, not trusting the trickster but having no better plan. I tried to focus, really I did, but those thorn punctures in my thigh skin were itch-burning oddly now--oddly tingling, too--and the bite wound was burning too--and focusing is hard when you're nose to nose with two enormous squirrel-eating predators and all you want is to burrow deep and dark, dark and deep, through safe strong earth where danger can not creep--

Maggie slather-licked to comfort me but it didn't help, didn't help at all, and Coyote's guileful grin grew broader as the magic rose and I cringed down in helpless prey-terror, failing utterly to control it. Meg caught my mood and shrank back whimpering and--

"I'll help too!" Raven cried, flapping up warble-croak-laughing at the exact moment Coyote's magic overwhelmed us all.

I regained consciousness with a squirrel in my arms--or... well... my forelegs, maybe, or... do squirrels have arms?--squeezing him tight like he was my very own self. The squirrel cuddled back and murmured, "Ernest! We've got to stop meeting like this! The others will suspect something."

Kind of hard for the others to miss their clue since they were tangled intimately around and beneath us--all four of us squirrels now; all male-musked but me. Thanks a bunch, Coyote. You're such a wit. Wiggled free and sniffed myself over and something was off. Not just the once-again-gender-change, but something different. Entirely different.

I was still a squirrel, of course. Scraggle-tailed ground squirrel. Female ground squirrel again. In heat. Again.

But...

The cactus-thorn-tingle was gone and swirls of pearlescent glowing... stuff... were streaming through and around me, and Meg, and Raven and Coyote... but especially me.

"Sorry folks," Raven murmured, slyly sniffing my way and sidling subtly closer, "got excited and spilled my godly ectoplasm all over but don't you worry, it's harmless and will soon dissipate."

"Cut the crap, Raven. Are you trying to hex me?" Coyote snorted suspiciously and moved to investigate his thigh--his right thigh, same side I had got my thorns in, and that funny bite wound too--but Raven was nuzzling my tail now, which flicked aside in eager welcome, and--have I mentioned yet that male squirrels in breeding season are very, very well hung? Well they are. And they smell nice too if you're a female squirrel in a certain frame of mind. Very, very nice.

"Raven stop that!" Coyote snapped, suspending his thigh exploration to leap up and bump the other squirrel away. He took Raven's place and sidled closer, shoulder-stroking my cheek, and his shoulder smelled of wolf spit. He cuddled forward and around, curling back sensuously to shoulder-stroke my other side, and his right thigh smelled of squirrel blood as it brushed by my nose. Squirrel blood and beneath that scent, not far beneath, lurked the dusty-straw trace of cholla cactus thorns.

I hopped away startled, and confused, throwing myself directly into Raven's waiting embrace. "You are not yourself, sweet mortal," he softly murmured, so softly I might not have heard him at all. Perhaps I merely imagined his words--

--or my thoughts--

--or his thoughts but no matter, the realization was certain in me now: I was not the squirrel I seemed to be, nor was Coyote. By Raven's trickery our minds had been somehow switched and that meant--

Raven caught the light of comprehension in my eyes and smiled a sneaky ground squirrel smile which I--

--Are you ready, brave mortal, for your true trial?--

--which I tasted, tested--

--Do you in fact possess that foolhardy audacity it takes to trick a trickster?--

--and sneakily returned.

And why not? Coyote had sensed a sweet shy slyness in my heart--or so he had said--and who am I to doubt the word of a god? The joke was Raven's not mine, I have no illusions about that, but by my own will I chose at that moment to be his pawn, and by my own will I held his plan safe, in my shy sly heart, as he seized my haunches and I raised my rump ready for him, tail kinked tight in quivering she-squirrel receptiveness, savoring the moment then forcing myself away or... er... trying to force myself... not doing so well here... legs on lock-down, won't budge an inch, twitching tail says now's the time and... and what if it is? One squirrel stud's good as the next when you're in the mood and--wasn't there something else to be doing? To be doing first, that is?--nah. Never mind. Nothing that can't wait. Nothing more important than--Raven pulled me close and I pressed back eagerly, desperately aroused, arching my neck to nuzzle whimpering beneath his fragrant-furred cheek. He pressed himself closer and I felt a probing touch--sweet quivering electric touch, penetrating--

--then nothing. Nothing on my backside but fresh clean mountain air.

"Ow ow ow ow!" came Raven's voice and I whirled to look: found him crumpled behind me on the rocky dirt, cradling his head between his paws. "Why'd ya hafta go an bite me like that?" he keened. "If yer tail kinks Coyote's way ya shoulda said so!"

Er... what? I hadn't bitten him! Far from it. I stared astonished at Raven's writhing form and he winked at me, just once, from an angle Coyote could not see.

Oh! Right. Plan; we had a plan, or Raven did. I snorted and shook myself, gathering shattered wits, then mock-squeaked and fled his presence to hide chittering behind Coyote's stalwart form. I pressed against him trembling--no faking that part!--and when Coyote pressed back my submission was quite sincerely real. We came together unthinking, not needing to think, his flesh not waiting but slipping easily inside mine, throat-catch deep, filling me joyful-taut as his shaft slid tightly yet smoothly into my body then stopped, thigh-clenched hard up against me, hilted as far as it would go. Coyote bucked once and withdrew himself slowly, teasing, paused an instant then slammed back jaw-click-quick and my body arched helpless at the sensation, transfixed, tight-stretched passage squeezing him flutter-fast beyond my power to control.

Coyote shuddered and hip-thrust urgently, his own control eluding him as molten electric pleasure surged tingling through my guts and... other parts. Parts a female squirrel is not generally considered to to have. I felt Coyote's thrusts both giving and receiving now, and both our pleasure, and Coyote's thoughts, or feelings; I sensed those too. Sensed his puzzlement and suspicion as the trap was sprung, his dawning realization and desperate attempt to stop his own lust-mad humping and pull out from me--from us--before it was too late. Sensed his failure, and chagrin, and rueful pleasure-drunk confusion as our seed flowed together sweetly, oh so sweetly, in mind-soothing silken waves.

Coyote ceased his struggles and held me silently, unmoving, hips pressed close and forelegs tight-clasping my haunches except... each moment the haunch-clasping seemed more like something I was doing, not Coyote, like the change in viewpoint one feels when waking from a dream.

Luscious-lust-vertigo lasted a moment longer, just a moment more, and it was over. I was a male squirrel now, sated and content, resting panting and triumphant across the rumple-furred rump of my well-mated mate.

Across Coyote's rump.

Crazy-weird Coyote. Wild-child totem of unpredictability. Infused now with his own unquenchably fertile seed... by my very own not-quite-innocent self.

Shit.

Shitshitshitshitshit. I hopped off terrified, bracing myself for the instant painful annihilation sure to come, and felt a comradely ear-snuffle instead. "Well done, mortal!" came Raven's ready congratulations and, "Hmmpff. Got me good this time," Coyote's grudging accord.

"Do you have any children, Ernest?" she inquired casually, twisting round to investigate her well-used nether regions.

"Er... no. Not to my knowledge. I--"

"In that case your firstborn's going to be a ground squirrel, looks like. And your second and third and fourth. Can't unmake a pregnancy you know. Against the rules. I suppose now you'll be wanting some sort of boon or reward for your cleverness. Or a wish. I do those too when I'm in the mood."

Reward? Wish? The only wish I wanted was--

Tell Coyote no, you would not presume to ask such a thing.

Huh? "I... I would not presume to ask such a thing. Thank you and--"

Tell her the game's been fun so far and you'd like to continue if you may.

"--and the game's been so much fun I'd like to... uh... I'd like to continue. If I may."

Tell Coyote it's her move now.

"And... and I think it's your move now."

"Thank you Raven, that will be enough coaching I believe." Coyote hopped up close and sniffed me appraisingly, muzzle to whiskered muzzle, breathed out sing-song-soft and I felt the power take hold of me gently filling, lifting and--

--and I swelled up smoke-puff-fast, gaining gargantuan human size as I lost my furry ground squirrel form. Soon stood towering over them human again and male, and barefoot-buck-naked in the setting afternoon sun. Looked down at myself and turned away hastily, backside toward the others to hide my raging erection.

"This is my move, Ernest: I've restored your human form and you are free to go. Is that your choice?"

"Uh, sure... thanks... 'scuse me a sec..." Knelt down to untie Meg's pack bundle and extracted my trousers and shoes, slipped them on and felt much better then. Turned to face them with a bit more poise. "Do you really mean I'm free to go? Just like that?"

"Yes indeed! You were always free to go. You came here seeking me, as I recall."

"But what about Meg?"

"I'm not done with Meg yet. We're talking about you now. What is your choice?"

"I can't go that way. Not with Meg still like she... like he... not with Meg still a squirrel."

"Oh, very well." Coyote waved a casual forepaw and Meg changed too, rising up swiftly to stand bewildered--and quite naked--by my side.

"There you are! Both of you human, more or less, restored to your accustomed gender and free to travel where you choose. Now Ernest don't forget that trick I told you to stabilize your current form! I've given you another chance but the curse is still quite active, I'm afraid. If Meg is willing you might deal with that issue here and now, before you begin your walk down the mountainside. No sense taking needless chances you know. What do you say, sweet Meg-y-poo? It's your move now; will you spread those well-used thighs of yours for the common cause?"

"Dr. Kurramon, what is this creature talking about?"

"Er... he's suggesting we... you know... have sex together. He says if I don't do that I'll turn into some sort of animal again."

"And what do I get out of it?"

"You get pregnant. Possibly with puppies. I'm not too clear about that part."

"Dr. Kurramon you're really not making yourself very persuasive. What happens if I say no?"

"Er... I don't know. Coyote! What happens if she says no?"

"Nothing happens. Both of you are free to go."

Meg sat herself wincing on the gravel shards and began to pull on her shoes and clothes. "In that case I'll decline your kind offer and get my unmolested rear end out of here." She eyed me sidelong and added, "Hope your game goes well but I'm not playing." I nodded and stood by tongue-tied as she rose to her feet and edged back nervously, no longer meeting my gaze, seeking and soon finding the rocky faint trail that had brought us to the mountaintop.

"You're withdrawing from our game?" Coyote called after her and Meg walked faster, shoulders hunched, not answering.

"Any parting requests... or wishes... before you go?"

"I wish to never see you again!" Meg snapped back, slipping quickly from view behind a gray-tan tumbled rock fall. Coyote rolled her beady black rodent eyes and looked shocked, and sad; trading commiserating glances with an equally shocked and sad Raven.

"Coyote what's wrong?" I asked, already guessing the answer.

"She accepted my wish. She didn't have to but she did."

"And?"

"She chose... poorly."

"Poorly as in--easy to twist her meaning?"

"Yes, that's the whole point of the wishing challenge. Mortal gets a taste of power and wish-grantor aims to make it go bad. Think of it as another game: a short one with but a single move. Meg has wished never to see me again. The quickest and sneakiest way to grant that wish is to blind or kill her. Without being seen, or course."

"That's not fair! She didn't know!"

"The wishing game is never fair. But enough of that; we're playing a different game now. It's called What do we do with the 'yote-nut mortal? Hey Raven! Your turn's next, I believe."

Raven nodded and shook himself then stood tall on his haunches and grew fluff-soft black feathers and gorgeous broad dark wings and all the other parts a well-dressed desert corvid ought to have. He hopped close and cuddled up against my ankle murmuring, "Lordy-be, ain't we a noble 'un here! Always wantin' the best fer yer friends, eh? Well what say we give you another chance at that! On the claw is a wish from me now, to be granted in good faith if in good faith it be asked. What do you say, mortal? Will you take it now and strive to undo Meg's mistake?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard my offer. What'll it be?"

"I... yes. I'll take the wish."

"And?"

"And I wish for peace, between us. All of us."

"Peace, you say! Crave ye now the bond of sweet harmony and trust, bidding us set aside our petty differences to work together for the common good?"

"Er... yes. Yes I do. Whatever it takes to make things right."

"Hmmm... that's a tough 'un sho 'nuff! Whadda ya say, Yoters, should we take him up on it? I'm game if you are."

Coyote scowled and scratched an ear with one blur-fast hind leg--the same soft-furred sinewy leg that had been mine to use then mine to embrace short minutes ago and--"Oh, very well," she grumped, "go ahead if it makes you happy... but don't expect me to remember the names and birthdays!"

Raven laughed a gravely soft laugh, spreading wide his sable wings and, "So shall it be!" he proclaimed. Instantly I felt myself shrinking down and--no! not again! what am I this time?--sprouting massive black dagger-beak and gloss-black strong wings and needle-sharp piercing, black backward-hooked claws. Lost my balance and fell over then struggled upright, propped up on stick legs by half-tucked wing tips flapping clumsily at the dirt. Raven hopped close and nudged me here, nuzzled there, guiding wings to proper alignment and legs to proper posture beneath me, touching more intimately than he needed to--his bold strong beak gently tickling my soft-feathered sensitive skin--

"There! That's much better, don't you think?"

"But--"

--distracting me, tingling sensuously like--

"And my word what a fine-looking raven you make! I've outdone myself this time and that's a fact."

"What--"

--like the quivering seductive touch of squirrel whiskers, or Dozer's wide wet snout.

"Must be all the excitement got my creative juices flowing... or those Coyote parts within you added mojo to the mix."

"Raven, I don't think--"

"Speaking of which--" Raven flutter-hopped to the nearby carton of chicken pieces and stabbed it savagely with his beak, ripping through the flimsy cardboard to snatch out a drumstick in one single practiced move. He brought it to me wings half-raised, trembling, and set it gently at my feet saying, "First courting gift to you, my love! May it be the first of many gifts shared in our time together. We will flirt with the fickle updrafts and each other, seeking out tasty tidbits to share while Coyote watches sourly from the safety of her burrow entrance, belly swelling big with squirrel kits quickened by her own potent seed. Coyote seed your clever trickery slipped within her!"

"Raven no! I never meant--"

Raven was bow-bobbing low over his offering now, mesmerizing, and despite myself I bow-bobbed with him, just a bit. Hard to resist the rhythm of it, like trying not to dance when the music beat gets in your blood. So this was the sweet harmony Raven's wish had bought for me!

"Raven I--"

He was bobbing faster now and I tensed myself stiff, resisting, head averted and--

--and why was I resisting him? What was the point? Raven had tricked me fair but it could have been worse. Could have been a lot worse and... who was I fooling, anyway? I was horny as a she-bird in breeding season and eager to give his plan a try. Tired of my old human life, anyway; just a rat race grubbing money to pay off school loans and alimony judgements.

"Raven I--"

"Yes?"

"I was just wondering--"

"Yes?" he crooned, gently beak-nibbling the rumpled feathers of my throat ruff, preening them back to glossy soft smoothness, "You were wondering what?"

"I was wondering... well... I've read the books and sort of understand but still... how do birds... you know... tell each other apart? Male from female, that is. You say you want to know me better but we both look the same to me and I can't tell if I'm even... you know... compatible..."

Raven smiled and sidled closer, dark wings tremble-half-raised again. "Oh that's simple," he began, but Coyote cut him off.

"My move now!" she squeaked, rushing up to nose-bump my neck then dart off madly laughing while Raven recoiled in shocked chagrin. The change-magic took me hard this time, roiling my guts hot and deep and quick. I hissed furiously, eyes pinched shut and--

"Coyote you son of a bitch!" Raven squawked. "That was a low blow even for you!"

"Why thank you sir!" she purred, gentle soft squirrel-voice singing sweet-squeak-sneaky low, "I do try. And I think perhaps I'll call a time-out in our game now... give us all some time to sort things out a bit."

--opened them to find... nothing changed.

Nothing changed, still a raven but...

"Don't be shy, Comrade," Coyote coaxed, "it's time now for you to deliver on your wish!"

"Damn." Raven rattled his feathers and hunched low, concentrating, then relaxed and replied, "It is done."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And were you not preparing, just now, to show Ernest how male and female ravens tell each other apart?"

"We dance together! Everyone knows that."

"Yes and when the dancing's done, come time to mate... please tell our friend who'll be tail-tuck-fluttering up on top."

"Well, er..."

"Yes?" Coyote coaxed again, the single word dripping like syrup from her lips.

Raven sighed and eyed me with an inexplicably submissive eye, cuddled closer and--

"He will," she replied.

*****

And... that's the whole story Meg, more or less. If it sells you can give me half the royalties payable in shiny bright bird bling. Gotta wing it now, though. There's a squirrel on the mountain gets cranky if she's neglected and Raven... well... Raven's a dear, and much more fun than my first wife but she gets bored too, you know, sitting too long alone on our clutch of lovely Coyote Eggs.