Weekly Pawmpt 37
The Furry Writers Guild has weekly pawmpts, and I had a cute idea for this one, so wrote something up quick.
The pawmpt was: “Damn it… my face got stuck again.”
“Damn it… my face got stuck again.”
“Do you need help?”
“No, no, I’ve got it.” Chris squinted at himself in the bathroom mirror. The face had always been the hardest part. There he was, body fully furred, big paws, pointy ears, a wagging tail, but a pale human face staring back at him. It was uncanny seeing it stare out from all the fluff, as if he were wearing some sort of mascot costume.
He focused, but soon he felt lightheaded and had to brace himself against the sink. He realized he had been holding his breath, trying to force a muzzle to push out from his face. That’s not how it even worked. What was he doing?
Carmen heard his gasps for air and appeared in the open doorway. She had taken her form for the night—a white furred marten with a black nose and striking blue eyes. A dark pattern traced around her eyes, impressively intricate in its design. Most shapeshifters struggled with that, apparently.
“Was it really this hard for you? For this long?” Chris asked.
“Yes. It took a few tries.”
“What’s a few?”
Carmen shrugged. “Five or six.”
“Five or six?!” Chris threw his hands—paws—up. “I’ve done it so many times I’ve lost count! And I still can’t get it on the first try.”
“You will,” Carmen said. “Just have to get to know yourself a bit better. Hard to shift when you’ve looked one way your whole life and suddenly get the chance to be something else. That pesky human in us just doesn’t want to let go.”
Chris looked at his very human face in the mirror. “Go awayyy,” he droned at it, but the very human face face just stared back at him with its very human eyes and its very human frown.
“Here,” Carmen said. “There’s a trick I use with the pups sometimes.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“Oh hush.” She took his paws in hers. “Here’s what you do. First, you stop staring at yourself in the mirror, because clearly that’s not working.”
Chris huffed and tore his eyes away, staring ahead at Carmen. He was amazed, and thankful, that she managed not to burst out laughing at the sight of him.
“There. Now close your eyes and just listen to my voice.”
Chris took a deep breath and obeyed, feeling stupid.
“Think of the best place you’ve ever been. Somewhere you feel happy, and free, and safe.”
“That’s just my room.”
“I mean when you’re not being a shut in. Where’s your favorite place?”
He thought long and hard about that. There was a spot up north where his family used to go camping. It had a big blue lake, and though the hills surrounding it weren’t exactly mountains, his young self hadn’t been able to tell the difference.
“You got it?”
“Yeah,” he said, imagining standing on a cliffside above the crystal clear waters.
“Good. Now imagine you’re wherever you are, but that there’s one little thing wrong with it. One thing that’s not quite right.”
Chris imagined himself looking up. A fiery asteroid popped into existence, careening through the clear blue sky, roaring straight at him like an enraged dragon.
“Asteroid coming to blow it up.”
Carmen paused. Probably to roll her eyes.
“Sure. Okay. Let’s go with that. You see it there?”
“Yeah. So what, you want me to stop it?”
“No, I want you to let it come.”
“Oh,” Chris hadn’t expected that, but he didn’t question it. “Okay then.”
He imagined the asteroid slamming into the lake. In slow motion, everything exploded around him. The asteroid sent cracks scattering through the earth that overflowed with lava, and then the whole world blew apart into space, leaving Chris floating there with a grimace.
“I just blew up the world. Is my face a dog’s yet?”
“Hush. Now, here’s the important part.” Carmen squeezed Chris’s paws tight. “I want you to put it all back together.”
Chris squinted with his eyes shut. “The whole world?”
“Yeah, you can do it. But make it the way you want it this time.”
“Oh, I think I get it.” Chris finally thought he had a handle on the theme of this little exercise. In his head, he imagined all the pieces of the earth flying back, as if time had rewound. When all the cracks on its surface disappeared, and the sphere cooled, he pulled up mountains and filled in lakes and oceans, let plants grow, fish swim, animals wander about.
But a few things he didn’t let happen. First, he got rid of crabs. (He was afraid of crabs). And he made the season around his home always be Fall—his favorite time of year. When people came about, he made sure they weren’t human, but a whole bunch of humanoids of all different species instead. He made them so they wouldn’t fight or get too greedy or break things, and when he was satisfied with that he settled in with a small village and took a deep breath.
“Alright, now what?” he asked.
“Nothing. You’re all done.”
Chris opened his eyes and blinked away the world he’d created. In front of him, he saw his muzzle sticking out, his brain still not used to it enough to ignore it. Chris smiled at Carmen, showing some fang and wagging his tail.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Any time.”