My dreams were rough that night. I must have been thrashing because I woke to Jayce yanking on my fur.

  “Dude—you’re having a nightmare.” His voice was groggy and full of sleep.

  “Oh,” I said. “Thanks.”

  It must have taken courage to wake me up. You don’t just grab onto a sleeping lion and start shaking. But he did.

  Jayce laid his head back down. I followed his lead and soon drifted back to sleep.

  I opened my eyes when light atmospheric blue tinged the horizon. To me, mornings had always felt cold. But this morning was different. Warm. Welcoming. Strangely whole. The sun peeked, bathing the mountain tops in a soft, orange glow.

  Then I smelled it.

  Berries.

  The sweet smell flooded my nose. I loved berries. Berries were the best. Jayce and I would eat our bodyweight in blackberries while hiking. And I was hungry. Berries seemed as good as anything else.

  I leaned up and swiveled my head, trying to spot them. Jayce stirred beside me. He hadn’t slept well. He sat up, slowly. His hair stuck up at awkward angles and his shoulders didn’t hang square.

  “What’s—oh right.” He rubbed his face. “Kind of hoped that was a dream.”

  “Nope. I’m still a lion,” I said, still sniffing. “And I’m hungry.”

  That woke him up faster. He gave me a strong side-eye.

  “Not for you.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Hundred percent. Well… ninety-nine. You don’t smell great—”

  He punched my shoulder. I barely felt it.

  The smell of berries lifted me up on all fours. My first steps were like a baby lamb—stumbling around trying to keep from overbalancing. The aroma pulled me toward the line of bushes near the clearing’s edge.

  “You look ridiculous,” Jayce chuckled. “Big lion, stalking berries in bushes.”

  “I’m hungry,” I said.

  “Lions don’t eat berries, bro,” Jayce said.

  “Says who?”

  “Everybody.”

  “They sound good,” I said.

  “Maybe before, but now—”

  “Bingo!” I said. “Blackberries. An entire vine of them.”

  My taste buds got ahead of my brain. I knew blackberries had thorns, but I leaned forward anyway.

  “OUCH!” I sprang back. The skin on my muzzle near my whiskers was incredibly sensitive.

  I gritted my teeth. If I were human, this would be easy. I wanted to reach out and pick the berries from the vine. They were huge and juicy and smelled like heaven. But my big clumsy paws weren’t made for that.

  Jayce popped into my field of view. He saw me drooling, fixated on the berries.

  “Oh. You want these?” He pulled a few off the vine and tossed them into his mouth.

  I shed a single tear.

  He laughed, then pulled a few more off and tossed them into my mouth. I crushed them expecting the sweet tartness to light up my new senses. But instead, I tasted nothing. Maybe a mild bitterness, but no sweet sourness whatsoever.

  Jayce’s face dropped. “You look disappointed.”

  “I can’t taste them.”

  “Told you,” he said. “I wish I was wrong, but lions are carnivores, not berry-vores. Do they at least take the edge off?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Jayce frowned, tossing one of the larger berries between his hands like a ball. Then he smiled. “Hey. Go long.” He grabbed a handful of berries and took a few steps backward.

  I grinned. I could go long. Tossing food into each other’s mouths was a lifelong game we’d perfected. We regularly turned all kinds of food into projectiles. I knew this game, and I was sure even with a lion-mouth, I’d be great at it. A shiver of excitement ran through my body, and that’s when I felt my entire backside start to wag. Jayce saw it. He paused mid-aim, toying with me.

  “Someone’s happy.”

  “Quit stalling and throw,” I said.

  He wound up and threw the first berry. My eyes locked on and tracked it from his hand to my mouth. The berry rotated through its arc and I anticipated exactly where it’d land. Snap. I caught it, crushed it and swallowed it. It was still nasty, but I wasn’t eating for food.

  He threw again and I caught it effortlessly. Then one made it past my tongue and went straight down the wrong tube.

  I started wheezing and hacking—trying to get the berry back up. It was somewhere in my chest. I coughed, hacked and spat.

  Jayce ran over and started smacking my back.

  “Dude, what—” I hacked, “—are you doing?”

  “Trying to help.” He slapped my back as hard as he could.

  “I don’t think that’s helping.”

  I heaved and hacked until I coughed up the mucus-covered berry. A squelching wet sound shook my ribs.

  Jayce heard it. “You sure I’m not looking like a ham bone yet?”

  “I’m sure,” I said.

  “We have SPAM.”

  Another guttural squeal came from inside me. “Couldn’t hurt to try.”

  He ran to the backpacks and peeled open a can. It slurped into the cast iron skillet. He diced it into smaller chunks, added salt, pepper and a few mystery spices, then started stirring.

  My brain played tricks on me. The SPAM should have looked terrible raw. It was a gelatinous messy food. I couldn’t handle the consistency unless cooked. But looking at it now, I wanted to ask Jayce just to toss it down my throat. Raw.

  Raw.

  I leaned closer and Jayce poked me with the spatula. “Don’t get too close. You’ll burn your delicate nose.”

  I gave him a look but backed off. He flipped the food as it sizzled, then poured the cubes onto a plate and put it on the floor.

  I looked at him and he looked back at me.

  “What? Eat.”

  “I feel stupid eating off the floor like an animal.”

  “You are an animal.”

  “Can you… maybe… hold it?”

  He groaned, then grabbed the plate. “This better?”

  “Perfect.” I licked and the boiling cubes bounded off the plate onto Jayce’s lap.

  “GAH!” He yelped and brushed chunks back onto the plate.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “It’s alright. Just go slow.”

  He turned the plate upside down on my tongue. I swallowed the chunks whole. My stomach didn’t even react.

  I shook my head.

  He shrugged. “It’s all we had.”

  Then I realized he didn’t save anything for himself. “You should have eaten.”

  “I’m fine—the berries will tide me over.”

  I scanned the clearing and saw the place I’d slept last night. The clothing I’d worn on the hike was split open like a busted cocoon. John’s boots had survived with only broken laces. Thankfully, I had a change of clothes in the pack.

  I watched as Jayce rolled up his sleeping bag and stowed the small camp stove back into the backpack.

  I stared at the ground, thinking. “How am I supposed to go home like this?” I said softly.

  Jayce paused stuffing the stove into his pack. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “I mean we don’t even know what’s going on with me. Or if there’s a way to undo this.”

  “Yeah, I’d try to Google it but we don’t have any reception up here.” Jayce paused. “Any chance you want to walk back like this?”

  “What if we ran into somebody?”

  Jayce shrugged. “I’d just tell them I’m out for a walk with my pet lion. Simple.”

  “How fast do you think you’d get arrested? And I’d get a can of bear spray in the face. Not a good plan.”

  “You have a point. Well, can you change back?”

  I hadn’t really considered trying. I mean, I didn’t try to change into a lion. It just happened.

  “If you shifted one way, you should be able to shift back the other,” he said.

  I closed my eyes and tried to feel my way around inside my new body. Everything felt alien.

  “It’s okay, bro,” Jayce said as he rested his hand on that spot between my ears. That small touch helped. I closed my eyes, then took a breath and held it.

  That did something. My circulation shifted and the throbbing in my ears relaxed. My body started to go numb. I shook my left leg and I swore it had gotten smaller. Then I looked and it had. It kept shrinking.

  Then my other leg joined. Then my tail. Then my back. My strength drained away, along with every physical sensation. Numbness spread across my body. As I shrank, a deep pressure in my chest started to build. The closest thing I could relate it to was holding a deep breath. I hated the feeling.

  “You okay, bro?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  I felt crammed. Stuffed. Jayce turned away to give me privacy as my human form took dominance. My limbs and head shrank unevenly as pressure built behind my sternum. My eyes changed, the bright, vivid colors taking a softer, faded hue.

  Now that my limbs were roughly human again, I pulled my pants on. I had to really tug to get them over my feet and legs, which were still not entirely human. Once I had my clothes on, they felt wrong. Too tight, not that they fit any different than I was used to. I swallowed and rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the discomfort. Nothing I did helped.

  Jayce grabbed my elbow. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Everything feels… tight.”

  “Like the clothing?”

  “No. Like… my body. I don’t know, it’s weird.”

  “You think you can get yourself home? Need me to carry you?”

  “No!” I snapped.

  Jayce stared at me.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Just processing a lot right now.”

  “It’s okay.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

  As I put on my backpack, I realized it felt lighter than before. Camping packs were huge, and ours were both full to the gills. Climbing up, it had dug into my shoulders, leaving invisible bruises. Now? It was half as heavy as before and didn’t hurt to carry. In the moment, I chalked it up to my body not knowing entirely what just happened.

  I’d done what I could to salvage the laces, but my feet still clopped side-to-side in John’s boots. I kept reaching for a non-existent collar, then realized it wasn’t my collar that was too tight: it was my body.

  I’m not usually one for bad moods, but I slipped into a terrible one, and Jayce could tell. He’d give me space, occasionally dropping a joke or punching my arm. But all of his normal tricks to cheer me up didn’t work. The sounds, nature, feelings, sights—all were dull. Like watching an old black-and-white movie. I’d been enjoying full HD, now I was wearing a human-suit that didn’t fit. The one sense that didn’t change was smell. I could smell everything, which wasn’t a good thing. Both Jayce and I stank.

  If I had taken a few more minutes right then, I would have realized how different I had become. I wasn’t a human who had turned into a lion, then back into a human. I had always been the lion. And now I realized the full scale of what had been missing.

  I didn’t pay much attention to the rest of the hike. I was too focused internally. The tightness in my chest began to feel like balancing on a tightrope. One wrong move, and I’d lose it. And then I didn’t know what would happen.

  When we got home, I went straight to the fridge. I grabbed an ice-cold Gatorade, cracked it open and chugged. The liquid stung my throat and I spat it out, covering myself and the counter. “This can’t be right,” I said, flipping the bottle over. “Did they change something?” I saw the faucet. Water was a sure-fire win, so I turned the bottle upside down in the sink and let the orange drain away. I filled it with water then guzzled. I repeated this several times before I felt relief.

  Jayce leaned against the counter, focused on me and my Gatorade crisis. He pulled his phone from his pocket and started thumbing through it.

  “Got reception now. There’s got to be something about whatever’s happening to you online. What would you call that? Random… animal transformation? Spontaneous fur eruption? What do people call this?”

  “I don’t know.” The pressure beneath my ribs grew, almost painful now. Heat crept up my face as I tried to breathe and remain calm.

  Jayce huffed as he thumbed his phone, swiping faster and faster. “Dude. Unless you’re a fan of random shapeshifter dramas and serialized fiction, there’s zilch out there. There’s a few researchers who investigate weird stuff. And whole sites dedicated to people who have animal… spirits… or something? But this? I can’t find anything saying stuff like this happens in real life.”

  I swallowed and cupped my hand against my throat. “Keep looking. I’m going to take a shower.” He nodded and I walked off to the bathroom. I turned on the water as hot as it would go, then peeled out of my soiled clothes. I turned and sat on the closed toilet seat, leaning forward, planting my head in my hands. I blew out a few clearing breaths. The pressure kept building: threatening to strangle me from the inside.

  I shook my head and forced myself to stand. My two feet looked so small. I stepped beneath the showerhead and let the warm water run down my back, not moving, trying to find some sense of comfort in my own body. I couldn’t.

  Jayce knocked on the door. “You doing alright in there?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I didn’t want to worry him. I let the water run and breathed, but it didn’t help.

  The hot water eventually ran out. As I toweled off, my thoughts turned to relief. I could probably shift back to lion. And with the intense pressure building against my skin from the inside, I might not have a choice. The room shrank around me. I knew it hadn’t changed but the walls pushed in on me from all sides.

  I quickly did the math. John wouldn’t get home until after the mill closed at six. It was barely three. If I could just shift back for a while, I might find some relief.

  I pulled a shirt and some shorts on then walked back into the living room. Jayce had made sandwiches. Ham and cheese: my favorite, or at least it was. He popped open a bag of potato chips and dumped a few on my plate.

  “Hey. Made food.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Jayce had always taken care of me. Maybe it was the fact John was never around, but years ago he had started making my food, pulling out clothes for me. I’d never felt it was awkward—he was always there. But something about him making the sandwich for me today felt like it crossed a line. I didn’t say anything. I was probably just grumpy.

  I pulled the meat away from the bread, then stuffed it into my mouth. “You find anything more about rando shapeshifting online?” I asked between bites.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Ordered you a teen romance novel about them. Other than that, no.”

  I stifled a laugh, then went back to stuffing my face.

  “You okay?” Jayce asked.

  “Why do you keep asking me that?”

  “Just… wanted to make sure.”

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  He nodded back, but he knew me too well to believe me.

  “You think you can handle yourself for a few minutes so I can take a shower?”

  I stopped chewing. “Yeah, sure,” I said.

  “Okay. Just… stay in the house. I’ll be right back.”

  I nodded. Jayce walked away slowly, looking at me multiple times before disappearing into the bathroom. The moment the door closed, I sprinted to the living room and pulled the curtains closed. There was one large bay window that looked out over the driveway and the trail beyond. Anybody driving up could see everything going on inside—unless the curtains were closed, which they now were. The living room was the largest enclosed space in the house. It had a once-luxurious rug spread across the floor. An old leather couch sat next to a recliner—John’s throne. The flatscreen TV was on the other side of the room, free-standing atop a glass-surfaced coffee table.

  I locked the front door, then snuck down the hallway far enough to hear water running.

  I was clear.

  I pulled my clothes off, then wrapped myself in a blanket. Everything in the room was watching me. The pictures. The old animal busts from John’s hunts. The rifles on the wall eyed me with curiosity. The room was cold, causing my skin to prickle, but Jayce had started a fire in the wood stove in the corner which was just getting its legs.

  I lay on the floor, head toward the fireplace. The pressure beneath my skin was overwhelming. I closed my eyes, then let go.

  A warm stream of liquid honey flowed from somewhere in my chest. My skin began to tingle. The tingle deepened into my muscles and bones. My breathing slowed; each breath deeper than the last. I lifted my hand to my face and flexed my fingers. Pads emerged on my fingertips as they shortened and grew bulkier. My nails slowly shifted, growing pointy and dark, then lengthening and disappearing beneath yellow fur. The hair on my head slowly faded into a straight, dignified mane. The coolness of the room changed to warmth as the fire heated my fur. The pressure in my chest melted into full-body relaxation.

  I stretched—paws to tail, pushing my back against the couch. Little bits of sweet-smelling smoke puffed from the fireplace. I didn’t plan to fall asleep, but as I drifted there in a dreamy daze, the feeling of fire heating my head and the perfect warmth of the living room rug warmed my heart. Everything was perfect.

  It didn’t last long.

  Jayce came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. His jet-black hair dripped onto his face. I couldn’t tell if he was happy or disturbed. He scratched behind his ear. “Thought you’d want to do that again,” he said.

  “It’s hard not to,” I said. “Holding human… it’s like holding my breath, but way worse.”

  Jayce frowned, then walked back toward our shared room. At least I didn’t smell fear. He emerged from the room fully dressed and walked to the kitchen. As he milled about, something offensively floral curled my nose hairs.

  “Are you wearing perfume?”

  “I’m not,” he called. I heard the fridge open and bottles rattle.

  “Whatever that smell is, it’s terrible,” I said, pawing at my nose.

  “Maybe it’s the shampoo?” Jayce walked in with cans of soda in both hands. “Didn’t know if your delicate lion-stomach would let you partake.”

  “I think I know how this is going to taste, but I’ve gotta try,” I said, shimmying across the rug. He grabbed a bowl from the kitchen, cracked open a soda and poured it in. Then he placed it before me. I dipped my tongue into the liquid. The flavor was revolting. The carbonation burned my tongue so I pawed at it frantically. My paw knocked into the bowl splashing soda everywhere.

  “Crap.”

  Jayce jumped up and grabbed a towel. “Don’t sweat it.” He pressed the towel against the carpet, soaking up the vile liquid. He worked with an amused grin. “Nasty?”

  “Fizzy puke water,” I said.

  He sighed. “Oh well. It’s not good for you anyway. Never was.”

  I glanced at him then looked down. “No. Guess not.”

  I dragged myself back to my spot. Jayce and I spent many afternoons chilling on that couch with our feet up. We’d make popcorn and disappear into a video game. Just as I’d managed to get comfortable again, two legs thudded against my side. I opened my eyes to see Jayce using me as a footrest.

  “What?” he asked. “You’re gonna take up all the foot space, I’m going to use you as a fluffy footrest. Deal?”

  I chuckled. “Fair enough.”

  Jayce sat on the couch scrolling through his phone as I enjoyed the warmth of the fire. A few minutes later his phone dinged.

  “Dad just texted. He’ll be home in ten with steak. Asked if you can grill it.”

  “Home in ten?”

  “Yeah. You know how to… undo this thing. Right? You did it once.”

  “Not really,” I said.

  “What did you do?”

  “I just… held it in. It sucked. Felt like I was going to explode.”

  “Well,” he said, standing, “you should probably get started. Like, now.” He glanced toward the door. “You want privacy?”

  I pushed myself upright. “I’ll go to the bedroom.”

  At least steak was on the way. That was good. And John would be home tonight. That was better. We didn’t see much of John. He loved his job and obsessed over the craziest things—number of logs processed per hour, diameter of raw goods. After a thirteen hour workday, Jayce and I would regularly sit at dinner listening to him drone on about the mill. Rarely would the conversation turn to what Jayce and I had done that day.

  With a hind leg, I pushed the door shut and tried to do what I’d done before. Once again, that shrinking sensation started then spread across my skin. My lower half went numb. My insides folded in on themselves. Everything began to feel tight. My heart pounded in my ears as my senses slowly died back.

  I hated this. So much.

  About ten minutes later, I was human again, at least on the outside. I emerged from my room, wearing a faded graphic tee-shirt and dirty blue jeans.

  Jayce met me in the hallway. “You okay, bro?”

  “No.”

  He nodded, then stepped forward and hugged me. I stood there in shock. Jayce wasn’t much of a hugger, but as he squeezed me tight, a lump formed in my throat. When he eventually pulled back, I had to wipe my face.

  “It’s gonna be okay, bro,” he said.

  I nodded and sniffed. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  The pressure beneath my skin was still there, but somehow it felt more manageable now. The sound of gravel crunching beneath tires heralded John’s arrival.

  Jayce looked me over once more. “You ready for this?”

  “I think so.”

  Nothing within me felt ready. He knew it. I knew it. But John was home. And steak was waiting.

  How long do you think Alex and Jayce will be able to keep this a secret?