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<div><br></div><div dir="ltr" data-setdir="false"><div><p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“What is the Kings Hunt?” Aldwin asked. “Isn’t
that a Lightbringer celebration?”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“It is,” Trey answered. “On that day the Duke
and his entourage ride out and go hunting for the largest buck. In celebration
of Artela. Once captured the buck cleaned and covered with ointments and put in
horse tack. Then its released back into the wild as a Mercy offering to Artela.”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“So they go to the effort to catch a buck,
wash him and clean him up. Just to let him go?” Aldwin asked. “Sounds kind of
weird.”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif">“The idea is the give back
to Artela a gift for the bounty she gives us,” Rita explained.</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“That makes sense,” Alwin responded and took
a sip of his porridge. “But isn’t Duke Thomas a horse? They don’t eat meat. How
does he feel about hunting something. I mean some places still hunt and eat
horses.”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>Trey shrugged. “Never given it much thought
to be honest. But the Duke does it every year.”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“How does the change effect a person? What
if the Duke had been a Buck and not a stallion,” Rita asked. “Makes it hard to
hunt one of your own kind.”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“I know that certain nobles have been excused
from the ceremony,” Trey responded.</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"><span> </span>“The curse has changed more than just bodies,”
Trey said. “It’s changed everything.”</span></p>
<p class="ydpcab8d15eMsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in"><span style="font-size:18.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family:Times New Roman,serif"> </span></p></div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>***********************</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>
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On Wednesday, January 10, 2024 at 11:52:27 AM EST, Rimme the Weasel <ontherimme@gmail.com> wrote:
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Having woken up so suddenly, it wasn't until Kasaima sent them out to
make breakfast that Reed finally examined what had happened to his own
body overnight. His muscles were sore and awkward, though that was as
much from training as from the curse. His hips were tight against his
trousers, and as he sat down, he could easily feel the now-forever
vacant throne where his manhood once sat.</div><br>"You can have some of
my pants, Reed," Aldwin said. "I don't know if I'll be needing mine
anymore, soon." Aldwin's feathers had not yet spread above his chest and
shoulders, with a few light layers of down crossing to his upper arms
and the back of his neck behind his ears. The biggest change was to his
feet, which had stretched out a few more inches overnight, so that his
toes were now spread outward like webbed fingers, and his heel now a
thick nob on thin feet. Aldwin was still scraping the mud off himself
after he had bolted up earlier. His walking was still wobbly, and he had
now resigned himself to sitting on the bench, shifting his around to
get a feel for a digitigrade stance.<br><br>"Thanks," Reed said. "I
think 'Rita' would be more appropriate, though." She sighed, distinctly
more feminine than it was last night. "I should start getting used to my
new name, as soon as I can."<br><br>"You know," Trey said as he lifted a
pot of water onto the fire, "everyone would understand if either of you
sat out a day or two to adjust. You don't want to strain yourselves."<br><br>"I'm
fine," Rita said, giving her limbs a stretch. "I've had years to
practice controlling my breathing and relaxing my muscles." She smiled
as she remembered the starlit nights she had stood, half-watching,
half-meditating, as a boy. "Besides, I think the worst of my changes has
passed. Better to forge the metal while it's still hot."<br><br>"Hot
metal is weak metal, though," Aldwin said. He held open a bag of grain
for Trey, who was adding several cupfuls of grain into the pot. "I'm not
a smith, but I know metal can snap when it gets too hot too fast."<br><br>"I
don't think muscles work the same way as metal," Trey said. "But she
does have a point. The Curse can be very fluid during the transition
period. Using magic now can have very strange effects on your body. Are
you able to shift yet, by the way?"<br><br>"Shift?" Rita blinked. "I thought only animal morphs like you could shift."<br><br>"All
Keepers can shift. It's just that us animal morphs can make more
practical use of our full forms. Probably better if you didn't shift,
actually. Your clothes are tight enough as-is, and Aldwin doesn't have
enough spares for experimenting."<br><br>"Wait," Aldwin said, "does this mean we can shift, even before we've finished changing?"<br><br>"Hmmm,"
Trey thought. "Well, back when I had my change, all I wanted to do was
lie in bed for days afterward. Shifting was the last thing on my mind.
Yours seems to be happening much slower, but I still wouldn't shift if I
were you. You might end up bending your arms in the wrong direction,
and be stuck with a backwards arm for the rest of your life. Wicked as
it is, the Curse knows what it's doing. You can practice your magic, as
long as you don't try to manipulate the Curse."<br><br>"How long have you lived in Metamor, Trey? Have you always been an adventurer?"<br><br>"All
my life. All I've ever known was the Keep. To be honest, mostly inside
the Keep. Down in the dungeons where rats and mice have made their own
homes. Clean areas filled with fairy lights and comforts. I was about
nine or ten when the Curse hit. I'm still not sure why the rats and mice
decided to hide away. No one seems to mind us much. My father is a
carpenter and my mom's a seamstress, but I've always had a sort of
wander lust. I can do some really amazing things with wood, though."<br><br>"Oh?" Rita smiled. "What sort of things?"<br><br>Trey
reached into his side and pulled out an item from his purse. From
within, among the chinking of coins, he withdrew something and placed it
in Rita's hand. It was a finely carved figure of a rat morph, miniature
sword held high, shield in on his other arm. "Matthias. Or so I've
heard him described."<br><br>"Ah, he's one of the Long Scouts, isn't he?
Oh, yes, the one who was half-turned into stone," she said, turning the
sculpture around, admiring the curl of the tail, and the subtle muscles
beneath the wooden jerkin. "I've heard other scouts down south talk
about them. Their deeds are legendary, especially Misha's. I even heard
George the Cutlass lives here with them."<br><br>"I've heard of them all
too, but never really met them until we met Misha. I still haven't met
Matthias or George." Trey held something else in his hands, not as fine
as the statue, but just as precious. It was a set of wooden beads, tied
together into a loop, with the cross of Yahshua on one end.<br><br>"Oh, are you a Follower too?" Aldwin asked.<br><br>Trey nodded. "I've gone to Mass ever since Hough came. I try to pray my rosary every morning."<br><br>"Ah,"
Rita's eyes shifted. "My family raised me to be Lothanasi. They often
told me about Patildor attacks. My parents... weren't consistent,
though." She squirmed, reluctant to reveal more. She could still hear
the outraged screams, the squelch of a sword. The fires crackling. The
charred skin on her uncle's white skull. She shuddered. "I've since
learned better, though. We both want what's best for our souls. You two
may pray to Eli, while I pray to Kammoloth."<br><br>Both Aldwin and Trey noticed the change in her manner, and with a silent look, agreed not to ask further questions.<br><br>Soon
the porridge was ready, and the three set out a bowl of nuts, some
dried berries, and some salted pork for their companions to add as they
wished. Talo looked down at the tiny bowls. He could swallow half the cauldron in one gulp. "Talo need to get own food?"
Talo asked.<br><br>"I see no other option," Nyein said. "We'll have to
build up a stockpile of meat for you." A thought came to him. "Today is
June 3rd. The Day of the Duke's Hunt. He'll have to go outside the
valley to get something to eat."<br><br>"Talo not too hungry now. Talo worry may be very hungry soon."<br><br>"We
have three people whose bodies have changed overnight," Kasaima said as
he lifted the magic wards that had protected their camp during the
night. "Let's start with getting reacquainted with them."
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