By Elanna

Thenyr felt anxious as Kawheek spoke to the farmer’s widow, and his constant shifting stance made his heavy armor clank. There was a bad aura throughout the whole area, one that kept his feathers ruffled and his muscles unable to relax. Even inside the simple farmhouse, he wasn’t completely away from it. Of course, an evil threat was the entire reason the two avian warriors were at the farm to begin with, so it was hardly surprising. Thenyr made himself put his uneasiness aside and listen to what his smaller companion was saying.

“You should evacuate with the farmhands, just to be safe. It’s nearly dark out, there’s no more time to argue.” Kawheek sounded a little annoyed, and Thenyr couldn’t blame him. There’d been far too many delays already. They should have had the farm evacuated and been readying some sort of defense well before dark, but the frightened farmers had slowed everything down. Annoyed or not, Thenyr knew his unarmored friend would stick to the bargain. Even aside from keeping to his word, the avians had their own reasons for wanting to take care of a few werewolves.

“Can’t I just stay here? They could be out there already, and I can stay locked inside. I don’t want to be caught out in the woods!” The human woman looked around nervously, gaze lingering on the darkening sky seen through the window. “I promise I won’t get in the way!”

Thenyr sighed when Kawheek started to open his beak. “It’s fine, Kaw. She’s right, it is kind of late, and we have other things to worry about.” He smiled at the human, though he wasn’t sure if she could read the expression on his beak. “I can talk to her about our defensive options a little more, it might be helpful.”

The woman brightened, nodding. Kawheek let out his own sigh, but nodded too. He reached over to grab his spear, his expression grim. “Fine, but don’t take too long in here. I’m going to scout around a little, and I’ll come back immediately if I spot any trouble. Come join me once you’re ready, Thenyr.” The avian bowed his head respectfully, a motion returned by Thenyr, before he tucked his wings and headed out the door.

Thenyr waited for the door to close fully before turning back to the woman. He wasn’t too happy about splitting up, but Kawheek could handle himself. And might need the time to himself after a frustrating day. “So, is there anything useful on the farm? I haven’t had a close look at the other buildings yet, but a good ambush spot would be handy. Or just somewhere to retreat to if things get too hectic.”

The woman tilted her head, considering. “Hmm. Well, maybe? What sorta thing do you need for ambushes? I’m not much of a tactician or anything. There’s the barn and stables. . . Oh, where are my manners, would you like a drink?”

The armored bird already had a feeling he was wasting his time with her, but he could afford a few more minutes. He also realized that with the day’s activity, it had been a while since he’d had anything to drink. He nodded. “Actually, yes. Just water please, but that would be great.” He pulled over a heavy wooden chair to give his legs a little rest. He’d be exercising them plenty all too soon. “Hmm, tell me a little more about the barn. Is here a hayloft?”

Thenyr watched the woman pour water from a pitcher, and he quietly cast a simple disease ward on himself. Best to be safe around humans and their well water. She brought him an earthenware mug. “Yeah, there’s a hayloft. Oh, right, guess that would be good, huh?” She beamed as he accepted the mug. “Yeah, you could really get the drop on those nasty wolves. But can’t you just do that by flyin’?”

He took a sip. It tasted clean enough, so he took a larger gulp before answering. “Thank you, ma’am. And that’s true, we could, but the wolves know to look up, and they’d have plenty of time to do so if we were in the air.” He swallowed another beakful. “Inside, we wouldn’t have that problem, though we’d have to lure them in.” He felt a little gurgle in his stomach and sighed inwardly. He probably should have tried a stronger spell. He set the mug down carefully, deciding not to risk any more.

“Hmm. I don’t know, they just come for the animals usually. I don’t like using the poor things as bait, but I guess they’re safer in the barn than outside anyway. . .” She was watching him, a sort of distracted look on her face.

Thenyr felt another, stronger gurgle, and placed a taloned hand on his blue cuirass. “I though we already moved the animals to somewhere. . .” He glanced down as he felt something stranger than the gurgling. His armor was feeling too tight over his gut, and when he checked around the edges of the plate with his fingers, he could actually feel a swelling there, his own flesh bloating out. He stood up in alarm and looked back up at the woman just in time to see her ears growing pointed and fangs starting to protrude from her mouth.

She grinned, showing a row of sharp teeth. “Whoops, you’re right, we did move the animals. Don’t worry though, birdy, we’ll have a few more very soon.”

***

Kawheek perched on top of the barn, taking in a full view of the farm and its surroundings. Fields stretched off in one direction, but there was a forest not far from the farmhouse and other buildings. That was the obvious direction for the wolves to come from, and it made him uneasy. He didn’t detect any movement so far, and after a little internal debate, he decided to take a closer look. He adjusted his grip on his spear and leapt from the roof, gliding over to the edge of the forest.

He landed lightly, making almost no noise. Wolves could be pretty quiet too, but they still had to move along the ground, and they tended to be pretty large. Even in the dim light he would be able to see them approaching before they got the drop on him. He shook his head as he examined the nearby trees. He was starting to doubt this whole plan, and wasn’t even completely sure how they got talked into it. The trees didn’t look strong enough to support him, and they were denser than he’d hoped as well. They’d let the werewolves get pretty close before they had to reveal themselves.

Kawheek took a deep breath and sighed. The farm wife had said there were usually only two of the wolves, coming regularly to feast on her remaining animals. He sympathized with her need to protect her livelihood, and the recent loss of her husband to the beasts, but the more he thought about it, the less he was sure what good taking down two wolves would be. They always had larger packs nearby, and it would probably just incite the rest. He was always eager to cull a few more, as they’d menaced his own friends far too often, but it still seemed. . .

He froze, sensing something. The avian narrowed his eyes. Something was up, something more than just a small werewolf attack. He’d let himself get too addled by the farm wife’s delays and chatter, he should have known there was something fishy. He whirled around and raised his spear, not surprised to see three werewolves leering at him from the direction of the farmhouse. They were wearing the tattered remains of the farmhands’ clothing.

They snickered at him, approaching slowly, their long tongues lolling out. Though they didn’t look armed, their claws and fangs were more than enough.

Kawheek shifted to a more defensive stance, but spread his wings as well, ready to fly if needed. He didn’t like his odds against three alone, and was just considering the best way to regroup with Thenyr when something struck him from behind. It wasn’t a physical force, nothing that sent him staggering, but he did feel the sting of energy strike him between the wings. He managed to keep his composure and turn enough to face both directions, warily looking for the new threat.

A tall, armored gray werewolf stepped from the shadows of the trees, dressed in dark plate clearly made with his lupine form in mind. He held a twisted stick in his right hand, its pointed tip still glowing faintly. Kawheek recognized him immediately. Fenrir, the leader of the werewolves.

“Getting ready to flee already? The fight hasn’t even begun! Then again, you’ve already lost, bird.” The wolf growled in amusement, advancing a few feet more before stopping, still far from striking distance. The other three held a similar position to the other side, none making any move to strike.

Kawheek glared at the wolf lord. “Just looking for a fair fight, something you’re not familiar with. I see you even brought a new toy.” As he readied his wings for a quick escape, he felt something odd about them, but couldn’t afford to look away from his foes. Wolves could move swiftly when they wanted, and if one charged while he wasn’t watching, he wouldn’t have time to defend himself.

Fenrir laughed, and the others joined in, snorting in amusement. “Oh, a fair fight would be easy enough, but far less fun. I went to quite a bit of effort to acquire this ‘toy’ just for you, Kaw. Not that adding a skilled witch to my pack was a bad bonus. But go on, try and fly away birdy.”

Kawheek eyed him a little more, wary, but unable to see anything he could do but what Fenrir prompted. It grated, but that was probably the intention. Without another word, he flapped his wings in a powerful downstroke, leaping as he did to gain some air. The results were less than impressive however, and came to little more than a feeble hop and a rain of his own feathers fluttering down around him. Unable to help himself, he looked back at his wings, and was aghast to see they were molting rapidly, and the flap had dislodged a good half of his primaries.

“Trouble with your wings, Kaw? That’s a shame, your paladin friend could probably use your help right about now.”

The avian tried to ignore the snickers, his scaled fingers clenching the shaft of his spear even tighter. He could feel the molting elsewhere too, far faster than it should be even in season. He was almost too distracted to notice, but as his fingers shifted on the spear, a weirdness in their movement brought them to his attention as well. He hesitantly lifted one hand from the spear, then watched in horror as he tried to spread his fingers. His digits were stuck together as if glued, both pairs bound together. The howling laughter of the wolves only grew louder.

***

It was clear to Thenyr that the drink had been enchanted, probably placed some curse on him. Something powerful enough to get through his divine protection. It was equally clear that he needed to deal with the wolf woman now baring her fangs at him before he focused too much on his own body. Her change had ripped her simple dress, and he could only hope the remaining cloth would trip her up. With his gut pushing uncomfortably against his armor, he wasn’t feeling nearly as agile as he usually did.

He stood with a slight wobble, his legs losing some of their strength as they thickened. He noticed some of his feathers on the floor, but couldn’t waste time worrying about that. He grabbed his spear and circled, watching the wolf intently. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but I won’t go down so easily.”

She sneered, brandishing her claws and hunching down. “Maybe you should look again, porky. Been stuffing your beak a little much lately, hmm? I bet I can just wait for your own armor to tire you out, chubs.”

Thenyr’s armor was feeling tighter every moment, starting to edge on painful. And though he tried to move gracefully, on guard, each step brought a wobble from his hips, and he discovered he was already sweating. He realized that she might actually be right, and he needed to strike while he still had some energy. He didn’t respond, he just lunged right for her.

Though his extra bulk added to the strength of his stab, his normal balance was thrown off by a jiggling movement all through his body, rolls of new fat making his spear dip, wildly missing the wolf and skewering a table leg instead. He squawked in alarm as he was carried right along with it, smashing into the teetering table before it crashed down along with him. His beak smashed into the floor, but squished down at the impact rather than simply clattering. He could hear the wolf howling in amusement as he sprawled in the wreckage.

The bird slowly rolled himself over, panting as he tried to regain his breath. His spear was trapped by the table wood, and he could feel his armor straps straining. Between the spread plates, he saw pink flesh with only sparse feathers covering. He knew he was probably doomed, but he remained resolute, rocking back and forth in an attempt to stand once more. The wolf stopped that easily by placing a paw on his chest and pressing him back down.

She leered down at Thenyr, removing her paw and licking her lips. She leaned over, cruel eyes looking over his bloated form. “Mmm, you looked delectable before, but I think I’ll really enjoy some roast pig. Bet you’ll cook wonderfully in that metal oven you’re wearing.”

Thenyr tried to reach for the knife he kept strapped under his leg platting, but he couldn’t get his arms to reach around his own hips. The straps were getting unbearable, and he was just about to lose hope when they finally snapped. His chest plate burst off at high velocity, clonking the wolf right in the muzzle before clattering to the ground. Both of them stared at each other for a moment, dazed, and then she toppled over with a groan. Out cold.

He blinked, staring at her comatose form. He nudged her feebly with a talon, but she didn’t move. He was sure she wasn’t dead, werewolves were resilient monsters, but she seemed out of action for a while. His remaining feathers ruffled at the indignity of his victory, but he’d make use of it just the same. He cast a baleful glance at his bare belly, seeing with only a little shock that it had grown pink and fleshy, just like that of a pig. And very flabby: he could feel the weight dragging him down.

He took a deep breath, knowing his next quest would be managing to stand up. He had a feeling it wouldn’t be an easy one, but he had to succeed. He only hoped Kawheek was managing a little better outside.

***

Kawheek could still hold his spear, and that was all he cared about for the moment. He knew he might not get a better chance than when the wolves were distracted by their own amusement, and he took it, rushing their leader. Though his body wasn’t moving as nimbly as he was used to, he adjusted after a few long strides, and set his spear to charge Fenrir. He screeched a battle cry as he ran.

Fenrir’s mirth subsided to a chuckle when he noticed the angry bird. He had to leap to the side to dodge Kawheek’s thrust, narrowly avoiding the blow, but once he did, Kawheek found his own momentum hard to compensate for. He skidded to a halt, and when he tried to use his talons to grip the earth, they failed to bend. He stumbled forward several more feet before using his spear to stabilize, well aware his back was now turned to his foe. He felt his altered fingers slip on the spear shaft, and clamped down tighter. He readjusted and spun to find Fenrir already upon him.

The wolf lord grabbed his spear. Kawheek tensed for a struggle, but when Fenrir tugged, the spear slipped out with ease. Kawheek stared at the grinning wolf, then at his hands. He hardly had fingers any more, the digits nearly fused into something more like black hooves.

As Kawheek swung a hoof at his enemy, the wolf caught his wrist easily, his movements slowed too much to be a threat. Fenrir examined the spear while he held Kawheek, then casually snapped it between his teeth, shattering it and letting the broken pieces fall to the ground. Kawheek growled, his voice sounding deeper than normal. He sunk slightly into the ground, limbs bulky and all but shed of feathers. He could feel some sort of growth pushing against his loincloth as well. He tried to prepare his lower talons for a raking kick, but he couldn’t move them either, and settled for a clumsy strike with his new cleft hoof.

Fenrir redirected the hooved bird’s energy harmlessly to the side, then swept his own leg, toppling Kawheek. Kawheek found himself released completely, and fell forward hard, landing roughly on all fours, groaning. His belly sagged beneath him, and as he stared down at his arms, he saw they’d become thick and furred. White and black spotted fur. He looked back with a rumbling growl when Fenrir knelt beside him.

“Cows aren’t very good fighters, are they? Too big and slow, and hooves aren’t any good for wielding weapons. Not to mention. . .” He reached between Kawheek’s legs and tugged the straining loincloth off. The changing bird watched in dismay as a half-formed pink udder wobbled out, swaying lewdly between his furred thighs. “You never know when the udder’s going to get in the way,” Fenrir finished with a smirk.

***

Thenyr finally made it out of the house, only to find Kawheek on his hands and knees, surrounded by four wolves. He barely recognized his friend, who’d nearly doubled in size, and had spotted fur in place of his handsome plumage, but the tattered clothing was distinctive enough. Thenyr’s spear hadn’t survived the destruction of the table, and he still couldn’t reach his knife. The weaponless paladin gingerly adjusted his bulging weight, realizing it was going to be up to him just the same.

The situation was grim, but he had no choice. A testing flutter of his wings revealed how diminished they were: the tiny, atrophied things were no where near enough to lift his new bulk. He tried to reach for his connection to the divine, but whatever curse was upon him seemed to have diminished that too. Gods didn’t answer to livestock, he supposed. He snorted unhappily, and was made aware again of the flattening of his softened beak, the growing nostrils.

That was it then, nothing to do but hope for the best. Not even a weapon. He gave a soft prayer to his silent deity, then awkwardly adjusted his new weight. He could feel his talons stiffening below him and decided he’d better go for it before anything else happened. Thenyr lowered his head and ran for the wolves, wobbling wildly back and forth with every step.

It was only about a hundred feet, and he got a good pace going initially, relying on his momentum to keep carrying him forward. He was even picking up speed. As he drew closer and realized the lead wolf was Fenrir himself, he tried to shout out a challenge, but it came out as a porcine squeal instead. The wolves turned at the sound, then merely watched him approach with unconcerned amusement.

As Thenyr got closer, his energy sagged. More straps were getting tight, and he felt one of his leg plates pop off, then one on his arm. Soon it seemed like he was shedding armor with every step, his breath coming harder as more and more pink flab burst forth. Once he actually reached the four wolves, his energy failed him completely, and he had to lean over, breathing hard and able only to catch his breath. A single greave remained on him, hanging by a creaking strap.

Fenrir walked over and patted his head, earning a tired oink from Thenyr. “Poor piggy, that was quite a run for a porker like you. Easier on four legs though, you’ve got hooves for a reason.” The wolf simply increased the pressure on his head, pushing down, and Thenyr lacked the energy to hold on. He fell forward in relief as much as anything else, landing fully on new hooves and feeling much more stable, though mortally embarrassed.

Before he could recover, he felt Fenrir’s hand on his tail, and looked back past his own bare body. The wolf held his few final tail feathers, and once the paladin was watching he gave a tug, yanking them free. When his hand released, a curly pink tail sprung into place on Thenyr’s wide rear. Fenrir smiled, baring his fangs. “There you go piggy, had something caught on your cute little tail.”

***

Kawheek felt increasingly helpless as he watched Thenyr’s rescue fail. There was little of the noble avian paladin left, his beak nearly reformed fully into a flat pig snout, and little ears were growing in atop his head. Kawheek knew he wasn’t much better off, but at least he was feeling more stable as his own changes progressed. He refused to think of himself as female, despite the growing weight of the udder between his thick thighs.

He took a cautious step forward, and found his hooves bearing his weight well. The ground was around the same distance away that he was used to, and at least the basic instincts of being four-legged seemed to come as part of the curse. His confidence lifted ever so slightly as he stepped closer and closer to his friend, and to their antagonists. A good bite on Fenrir’s tail would at least make them both feel better, or maybe a kick to his crotch. Hooves could still be solid weapons.

It was only when the wolves looked over at him without concern that he realized how slow he was actually moving. When they moved out of the way, he mooed angrily at them, wincing at the sound of his voice. Fenrir reached out and grabbed him by an ear he hadn’t had a few minutes ago, dragging him painfully forward. The cow had no choice but to step up to the wolf with another strained moo.

Fenrir smirked. “You’re a cow now, Kaw. You can try something if you want, but you’re just cattle. Don’t expect it to come to much. I’m not planning on sticking around anyway, I have better things to do than run a farm. More conquests, more visits to friends of yours, that sort of thing.” He laughed when Kawheek angrily tried to bite, blunt teeth chomping down on nothing. Fenrir had always been a quick opponent, and Kawheek just no longer had the speed to keep up.

Thenyr oinked at him, still tired out and laying on his fat belly on the ground. Kawheek lowed at him hopelessly, and was sure the moo didn’t make any more sense than the oink. It was hard to believe the pig had been his friend Thenyr just moments before.

The wolves all turned as a swearing female wolf staggered out of the house, holding the side of her muzzle in pain. Fenrir tilted his head slightly, and she looked nervous when her leader met her gaze, then relaxed when she noticed the pig with the pieces of armor all around him. Fenrir spoke as he absently stroked Kawheek’s broad back. “I take it you know what to do with these two now?”

The female eyed the new livestock and her lupine eyes lit up. She wagged as she responded. “Oh yes, I’ll take excellent care of them, Master.”

***

Fenrir returned a few days later, a few new females at his side. The furred farm wife eyed them with jealousy before inviting her lord in to tour the animal pens, eager to show how she’d been doing.

The normal livestock had been returned, and the farmhands were continuing to care for them as they had before, though with a little extra drooling around those soon for slaughter. Fenrir didn’t spare them so much as a glance though, interested only in the new acquisitions. He had some trouble finding the pig he wanted among the others, until he spotted a fat male with a second brand on his flank, one in the shape of a paladin’s holy symbol. He was rolling in the mud along with the others up until he spotted Fenrir. Even as a pig, Thenyr managed to look mortified.

“They’re settling in very well, Master. There was a lot of squealing during the branding, and he refused to eat or sleep with the other pigs at first, but it only took a few days for instinct to set in. We like to catch him when he gives in like that, he makes the cutest squeals of shame when he realizes what he’s been doing. I still haven’t decided if we’ll eat him or not, might depend if he makes a good stud. Your pack ate our last decent male.”

Fenrir smiled at the pig, who looked away, ears down. “Keep him alive for a while at least, but I don’t care much in the long run. In the end he is just another pig. Where’s the cow?”

The farm wolf gestured. “She’s being milked, just over here.” Fenrir and his women followed along until they came to the spotted bovine amidst several plain-coated ones. She bore the farm’s new wolf mark prominently, and also had a large bell hanging around her neck. One of the wolves was busy milking her, squeezing her teats while the cow looked absently into space.

“Hmm, looks like she’s enjoying herself.” Fenrir commented, walking closer, though not yet into her view.

The farm wolf grinned. “Well, not too surprising. If it’s anything like my. . . equivalent experiences, I’m sure it does feel very nice.” One of the other females giggled. “I have a feeling that finding herself looking forward to her milkings more and more will do more harm than good though. We’ve been letting her graze in the open too, and she’s tried to escape a few times. She doesn’t get far with that bell on her though, and looks even more hopeless each time.”

Fenrir nodded, giving her a pleased smile. She’d come along well too, he’d have to find something more exciting for her eventually. Or maybe she’d just enjoy some time in his harem. He swished his tail at the thought, then stepped in front of the cow.

Kawheek’s dark eyes slowly focused, and then she let out a plaintive moo. With the wolf still milking her, she wasn’t able to fully concentrate on her old foe, and she stamped in distress, tail flicking.

The wolf lord just reached out and patted her pink nose with an almost warm smile. “No need to worry, girl, I’m just passing through. I won’t keep you from your important dutys any longer, I’ve seen exactly what I need to see.”

The bovine tilted back her head, a long low coming from her soft muzzle, echoed by a far off squeal. Fenrir just shared a smirk with the farm wolf, then walked away and on to more important things.