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All pages and content copyright Wolphin, 2004
Please do not use without permission
Sheep go baa; Cows go moo.
Keywords: Transformation, Magic
Species: Rabbit
The White Rabbit
I wrote this story as part of the SSExchange system
which was a story exchange between some of the authors who have a bias
towards transformational type stories. We each presented something brief
along the lines of what we'd like to see written then got someone else's
brief back and had to base a story on that.
This is my story based on Dragon's request. I think I'll just
call it "The White Rabbit"
------------------------------------
The White Rabbit
By Wolphin.
Datric muttered, cursing the cold for the hundredth time that
night.
"Sol," he scolded to the apprentice huddled in the corner. "Throw
another log on that fire."
Sol looked up, blinking a few times to rid his eyes of the dozing
state his brain remained in.
"There is none," he said after his brain finally registered the
wood-box was empty.
The wizard looked up from his work bench and rolled his eyes.
"Well, go to the store and get some more then," he sighed. "Then
you can have the rest of the night off."
The boy nodded. "Thank you Master" he said as he grabbed the
wicker basket and scampered down the stairs, closing the large
wooden door behind him.
Datric watched him go, stifling a smile, still not willing to
admit he was fond for the lad despite the aptitude he had shown
for the art. He pulled his clock around him and peered at the
archaic writing in the book before him. It outlined one of the
more dangerous spells he had ever attempted. The caster had to
summon a being from another world, then siphon off part of their
power and trap it in a vessel. This power could then be harnessed
by whoever used the vessel correctly. He had read the summoning
spell and was sure the foul weather outside was being caused by
the spirit trapped within the small tower room.
The mage reached across the table, placing the ring he had chosen
as a vessel, onto a bedding of soft rabbit fur marking the centre
of a chalk outline that had been sketched on the thick oak boards.
He began to recite the last words of the spell while making the
correct hand gestures. Unfortunately he had his eyes closed and
did not notice the back of one hand strike the flask of clear
liquid. He opened his eyes just in time to see the ring glow for
a brief instant before the thin oil struck the stone floor.
The accepted story of the castle's distrustion was Datric had
somehow summoned a demon which vented it's rage on the poor
wizard. This fitted with the tales told by survivors pulled from
the rubble. The deafening boom of an explosion, followed by the
ominous rumble of the stones being shaken from within, punctuated
by the frightening sounds of walls falling. Unfortunately, the
truth is less entertaining.
The flask that Datric managed to knock off the table contained
what would be known as nitroglycerine. When it hit the floor it
promptly exploded, this caused a chain reaction where most of the
mage's highly volatile chemical store ignited. Having such a
large concentration in such a small area lead to a devastating
explosion. This, in itself, was tragic, but coupled by the poorly
designed castle, which had the tower as a load point for two
walls, lead to almost complete structural failure for the entire
building. For the survivors who emerged from the rubble, it
looked as if the demon's wrath had been absolute.
Many centuries later the ruins of the castle became the site of an
archaeological dig, run by the University of Edinburgh
archaeological department. Alice was one of the lucky students to
be dragged out to the dig site. Even though it was summer, the
isolated highlands were still cold, but she could not help
admiring the enchanting scenery. There was not much left of the
castle itself, mainly various large piles of stone scattered
amount the grass and rocks.
Alice had her own section to dig away at. It was not the most
challenging of digs, so far she had excavated down two feet and
found a few pieces of bone, two shards of clay and some rusted
piece of metal all of which were duly tagged, bagged and sent away
for examination. She was lying on her stomach, gently chipping
away the bottom of her grid with a tiny hand pick and brush when
her eye caught the gleam of silver.
Taking a gasp of surprise she carefully began to brush away the
area around the metal object. It took her a while, but eventually
she uncovered what appeared to be a silver ring lying on the
ground. She took the required photographs, then pulled out a
dental pick and eased it around the loop of metal. Delicately
picking it up and looking at it closely.
The dirt fell away almost immediately, leaving the polished ring
on her palm. She gave a gasp of surprise at it, noticing the
ornate Celtic pattern. At last she had found something worth
finding. Alice stood and looked up to where the professor was
cataloguing the items. Slowly she began to walk over, still
studying the ring.
It looked pretty and would be almost the ideal size for her.
Without thinking she slid her finger through the loop, admiring it
for a second before realising what she had done. She gave a
panicked gasp and tried to pull it off, but it appeared stuck.
"No," she moaned, reaching the table.
"What was that Alice?" asked the professor, looking up from her
work.
"Ummm, I'm just after a small trowel," bluffed the stressed girl.
"Got any around here?"
The professor nodded and reached into her bag of tools, handing
her one before going back to her work. Alice took it and moved
back to her dig, a plan already forming in her mind. There was
three days until the bus would take them into the town. When they
got there, she'd visit the doctor and have him remove the ring, it
probably just needed some coaxing, after all it went on easily
enough.
Alice spent the remainder of the day attempting to look busy while
also trying to pull the ring off her finger. Neither worked very
successfully. That night she tried to hide her hands as much as
possible from the rest of the group. This turned out to be harder
than she expected mainly because she had forgotten about the
communal dining tent and that night they were having hamburgers.
Alice lined up with the rest of the crowd, taking her bun, then
moving to the line behind the grill. Strangely the scent of
cooking meat made her stomach turn and she found herself refusing
it and filled up the bun with just the salad. That caused a few
stares and there were a few more when she joined the queue for
seconds and then thirds and she was quite relieved when she
managed to sneak away from the usual evening shenanigans to the
safe haven of her tent.
Her sleep that night was restless, she found herself waking up at
the slightest noise. Often jumping in the confines of her
sleeping bag only to find it was the snapping of a tent flap or a
loosely tied rope. When dawn finally broke she felt as if she had
not slept a wink. Somehow she managed to climb out of her tent
and stumble down to the makeshift bathroom.
The tent village was still silent and she had the luxury of a hot
shower all to herself. It was not until she began lathering the
soap onto her skin that she became aware of strange feeling on her
arms. Blinking the last of the sleep from her eyes she turned off
the shower and dried herself off, tilting her body to examine her
reflection in the small mirror. Her first response was she looked
pink. Not normal pink, but too pink. Then, when she looked
closer she found it was because all the hairs on her body seemed
to have turned white. Not only were they white, they were also
thicker and longer.
Like most people in the morning, Alice did not fully comprehend
what her eyes were telling her. She simple dismissed it, put it
down to some weird medical condition and made a mental note to see
her doctor, probably at the same time she got the ring removed.
She dressed slowly, then wandered over to raid the kitchen,
tucking into the stash of fresh fruit before moving up the dig
site. The rest of the crew were just beginning to stir, by the
time they joined her at the excavation she was already covered in
a healthy layer of dust and dirt. If any of them noticed
anything, they did not say it to her.
For Alice the day passed much like any other. She dig at her
hole, diligently sifting through the soil before discarding it.
She did not notice how she slowly stopped using the pick, trowel
and brush. Ending up instead crouching in the hole, clawing at
the soil with long dark nails.
That night she did not join the test of the crew in the mess tent.
Instead Alice raided the kitchen again and moved to her tent with
a large pile of fruit, vegetables and bread which she made short
work of. As she was undressing she noticed how long the hair
covering on her body had grown. It had passed the point of being
hair and was now thick enough to resemble fur. A pleasant white
fur she decided, her mind not appreciating the gravity of the
situation.
She wrapped herself in her sleeping bag and prepared herself for
the night's rest. Like the previous night, she did not get much.
Instead Alice spent most of it in a strange crouched position. At
first it was uncomfortable, but then as the night progressed, it
seemed to become more bearable until it was almost natural.
Dawn broke slowly, the orange glow easing into the eastern sky.
Alice noticed it and moved out of her tent before the day had
truly broken. She scampered down to the bathroom, balked at the
idea of a shower and decided instead just to was her face. It
took her a little fumbling with the taps before the water flowed,
the cold liquid seeming to cling strangely to her face.
She looked up at the mirror and gave a squeal of surprise. What
looked back was not her. It was large, white, furry and ranked
incredibly high on the cute scale. She moved a hand over her
face, exploring slowly, watching the figure in the mirror move
what could only be described as a paw in exactly the same actions.
Her ears had grown longer. Much longer. They now arched over her
head, pivoting around to face the slightest noise. Her face had
been pushed out slightly, a pink nose, punctuating the white fur.
She lifted her lip, exposing a lagomorph's mouth. Two long
incisors and a decidedly cute pink tongue. Long whiskers picked
up the sensations of her paw-pads as she craned her neck to look
at herself.
Her body had grown in size, her legs changing their shape, her
feet now the same length as her calves. She pushed herself off
the sink, suddenly aware how uncomfortable it was to remain on her
hind legs. All fours felt much more natural and she wrinkled her
nose as she examined the small button tail, her short claws easily
digging into the earth floor.
There was noise form outside and she tensed. Her head slowly
turning to look at the door. A few moments later she relaxed and
hopped slowly to the opening, poking her head out slowly. The
maze of tents and trampled paths greeted her. Cautiously she
nosed forward, nibbling occasionally at a crumbled piece of grasp.
Another noise and she turned, recognising a human. The woman let
out a gasp of surprise at the huge beast and stepped backwards.
That was too much for Alice and she leapt forwards, knocking over
tents as she weaved her way to freedom.
Once in the open Alice's mad scamper slowed to a gradual hop which
eventually eased into a leisurely graze. Her life as a human only
a distant dream, her life as a rabbit only just beginning.
Back at the camp many blurry faces were grumbling at the professor
who spent most of the morning mumbling something incoherent about
a rabbit the size of a person with a small silver band around one
paw...
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Legal Stuff: All pages and content copyright Wolphin, 2004 Please do not use without permission Sheep go baa; Cows go moo. |