Okay but seriously, that urge was starting to freak me out, fam.

Finally, I left the north—but there was nothing down here but cold too, just a different kind, a more brittle brand that tingled and snapped especially hard in the mornings. Like, maybe there was a burnt autumn sun to sweeten some things for a little while in the afternoon, but nah, winter was on its way and there was nowhere to hide from it.

Except…sand-places, but. We’re not talking about those yet.

It didn’t matter that we left the deep-freeze of the north, though. Because there was still some weird shit going on with you, mentally anyway—or viscerally, because it wasn’t something you were thinking, but stuff you were feeling that felt right and wrong at the same time, all the time. And I didn’t know how to handle it and you wouldn’t say what is was and even though I could’ve let it go, I still gnawed on it, fretted over it, whittled it to nothing as I gnashed it between my teeth along with the other mouthful of stuff I had weighing on my head.

Try not to mess this up, hmm? echoed in my head. Amongst other things.

And all the while you just sat on my face, butt squished strategically over my eye, thinking me an idiot. And loving me for it.

So here we were—some place removed from a chilly, howling wind and probably even chillier eyes. The edges of the water were crusted with fragile ice—morning freezes, probably, but it didn’t stop the rest of the gentle churning of the pool as we came up on it. I huffed my fat ass on the ground, crashing against stiff, frosted grasses as you wiggled your way down my neck, my shoulderblade, my leg and finally onto the ground, pit-pating your way to wherever you wanted to go. Which was fine, I guess. I was getting better at letting you go; I only slightly missed the feeling of you slithering around my ears.

Well, anyway. Since I was on the ground and my body was in the position for resting, something pulled in the back of my head, beckoning my eyes to lower—and yeah, they kind of sat heavy anyway, lulled over eyes that weren’t even really seeing what was in front of them. It could have been so easy, too. I could’ve just….dropped off like I usually did, dead to the world, letting you frolic as you saw fit while my lazy ass sat in the frost and mud gathering cobwebs.

I didn’t though, obviously. Because there was that little whisper of things that jolted me every time I lowered my defenses. A whisper that wasn’t really a whisper at all—more like a siren, a blast to rattle me to the core and wreck my shit well and truly. I told you once I was gonna be fine—I was gonna be cool. I still ain’t sure who I was really talking to at the time.

So…yeah, I didn’t fall asleep. I just laid there, an exhausted, fleshy log laying in the frost—while you waddled away from me, and in the back of my head I could feel that urge again, even as I peeked into your mental eye and saw a thing that interested you as it bounced before you.

A frog.

Hmm, kinda cold for frogs, I vaguely wondered, my eyelids fluttering slightly as I breathed mist. And it would have been the only thought I would have spared on the matter; I mean, fuck, I wasn’t the one stalking a frog, watching that shit like it looked delicious, regardless of the fact that it was ten times larger than you, almost. It wasn’t apathy, I swear, I was just too exhausted to keep up with your silly-ass games at that moment.

Well.

You watched the frog as it sat around, definitely feeling the cold I guess, as though it were considering its mistake and wondering what to do with itself, now that the pond was slowly freezing over. And you, well, you had that urge again, and it was spiking along with a kind of hunger I’d never felt from you before and my ear cocked curiously but my eyes were still half-closed and I was slipping into something that could’ve been a doze if it weren’t for the whisper and the shout and the eyes and the Are you happy to hear now that even though your mother was rap--

SPRKCRACKLE!!

And I jumped to my feet, eyes wide and wild and heart jumping fast and ”SHIT” coming out of my mouth like a bullet—because that urge in you had suddenly sky-rocketed and something had burst and for a moment of time you had—

—combusted—

—in a shower of sparks, a ball of lightning, and by the time I was registering something was wrong you were already emerging from it—

—but you weren’t—

—you were—

—different.

You weren’t tiny ‘n cute anymore! You were this—this white mass of something feathery and excited and you were making so many squeaks and squeals and hoots--

—and you were leaping for the frog, your wings (WINGS?!) flapping happily, your mind a release of euphoria that blinded the fuck out of me as I made it to my feet, everything too tired and sluggish to figure out what the flipping fuck was happening—

—and you dove for the frog, nipping the poor, near-frozen bastard between a tawny beak, and you were flapping like you were about to take off with your prize—

—but even though you had wings I guess you didn’t know how to use them.
So what really happened is that you barreled into the frog—and kept barreling, losing your grip as you tumbled and slid across the small panes of ice, shooting straight for the water—

—and by the time I was making my way to the shore line, you had already splashed your ass under the waves—and something dropped like a stone in me and I stomped through the ice and pounded my way into the freezing water and I was knee-deep screaming “CHEEK, CHICO” again, because you make me do that all the time—

—but all I was feeling from you was laughter.

I paused—trembling from the cold and the confusion and the tired. I tried looking for the white shape you had been, that feathery thing that was too familiar and too strange at the same time to process. But it wasn’t there--you weren’t there.

No, wait, scratch that. I peered into your mind—and it felt different somehow, like, your thoughts were the same but the physical cues I felt from you felt entirely too weird for me to handle—

—and I looked in your eyes and I saw the murky water pass by you smoothly, and I could see you swim (SWIM?!) up to something white and stocky and blurry—my legs as seen from under water.

I looked down—and sure enough, there was a glitter of scales that sparkled too close to the water’s edge to be entirely believable.

Somehow, you were a fish.


….like, the fuck.






"talk"
For @[Vadim], but open to anyone!