Plowing the Fields by McFan
Story by Mech on SoFurry
For his part of the trade, McFan drew up my druid, Skjall getting into a bit of trouble with his wild shape. Whoops.
Skjall’s tongue flicked as he peered from the hedge. The lizardfolk craned his head out and took a slow low. It was early morning, fog still heavy on the ground. It’d be burned off in a couple hours, but he could make use of it while he had the chance.
Keeping low, the reptilian druid scurried through the fence and darted over the open field towards a somewhat ramshackle building.
He’d been in the ‘civilized’ lands for months now. The folks back in Phandelver liked him well enough. Well, they seemed to. He helped out with crops, kept them healed, and was pretty good in a fight. As such they let him stay in one of the town’s many abandoned buildings. Discounts at the shops were great and they were always ready to barter. Food, a warm place to sleep, and rules he could barely comprehend. What more could a guy ask for?
Well, he was still a male and he still had needs.
There were folks back in town that liked to be ‘adventurous’ now and then. Except there was only so far they were willing to go. Heavy petting and kissing could only do so much for a wild-blooded lizardman like him. He swore his lower scales were gonna turn blue at this point.
He had options though. Being a druid had it’s perks, don’t you know?
Less options when they’d reinforced the barn door. Skjall huffed and sat back on his tail, eyes narrowed towards the lock. Glaring didn’t help, it never did with locks. He’d seen people stuff bits of metal into them they’d pop open. He didn’t have keys, nor did he have picks so that ruled out the normal way of getting in. Which meant he could go back to town or he could choose plan be.
Skjall stretched and yawned impossibly wide. The sunlight glistened off his greenish scales before his body began to change. Clothing and gear pulled into his form as he called upon nature itself. Limbs split and eyes crawled over his face.
In a matter of seconds, the lizardfolk druid was gone, and in his place was an ordinary spider. Though a spider with a strange shock of orange down it’s back. A shock of orange that had matched his scutes. Now that he was much smaller, it was easy to crawl in between the ill-fitting boards and scamper over the walls. His spider eyes glittering as he looked over the barn while dangling upside down. No one here but the animals. Good, things got awkward then.
Back down to ground level and he reverted back to his natural, scaled self. A horse snorted at him, but calmed as Skjall hissed, “Shhh, is okay.” Druidic magic whispered over his words. “You lonely, Bud? Need a little…” he grinned at the draft mare.
Her ears swiveled as the magic flavored his words. Weary brown eyes looking him over before snorting, “Well, certainly a bit larger than the farmhand, but not really my type.”
Skjall eased into the stall with her. Being the farm’s pride draft horse, and the only horse in the stable, she had an extra large stall. Certainly big enough for her, though… “Slip outside and we can have some proper fun, eh?” He winked with a toothy grin. The latch he could handle and nudged the door open for her.
It didn’t stop the large mare from snorting at him and stomping, “So long as you keep those teeth away from me.”
“Promise,” he rumbled a purr as she swung around and strode from the stall. His eyes locked on that wide, sexy haunch of hers. Licking his lips, the druid followed out and dropped down to all fours. The mare stopped her trot around the field to look at him. Eyes widening as the druid’s form grew. Muscles rippling as his form changed. Green scales going to a smokey gray. Hard, reddish orange scutes growing to a flowing mane and tail of rich auburn. Though his mane kept a somewhat scaled look to it.
The mare breathed out a quiet, “Well,” and leaned in to sniff at him. “Certainly look a lot better now.”
“Ah ha! There ye be.” Was all the warning before a sturdy bridle was pulled over Skjall’s head and pulled tight. The druid grunted and turned his head, spotting the farmer with a gap-toothed grin, “Folks kept talkin bout an odd horse. Figgerd I’d stick around and here ye are. Warned ye last time ye were ‘bout here.” The farmer wrapped a heavy hand about the reins and pulled. “Com’on, Druid. You wanna fuck like a horse, yer gonna have’ta work like one first.” He turned to shout, “Boys! Get the straps for this’un.”