Becoming A Myth

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

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Becoming a Myth

I didn't know the day was to be any different when I set out on my hike. I loved hiking. I still do, but it's hiking of a different kind now. I shouldered my pack, which was probably altogether far, far too much for a day trip, but you know what it's like to want to be prepared, and set off into the mountains, the rocky trail disappearing beneath my boots as minutes ticked into hours.

I knew the trail and setting off alone with the sun shining and a clear, blue sky streaming above me. There was barely a cloud in the sky and my spirits were light as I strode along my way, a familiar route that was one of my favourites for a weekend jaunt.

That is why I will never know how I ended up at the spring.

My feet must have led me wrong, but, somehow, the trail changed beneath my feet, rock disappearing as I dipped down into a valley, the path lined with pine trees with swaying branches. The wind had picked u too, but I did not cotton on to it as an ill omen, although there was nothing but good that came from that fateful day.

I paused and inhaled deeply, the aroma of moist, rich moss filling my lungs. There was something different about that valley, something very strange, something surreal. I don't know how I knew, but I did. I don't think I would have turned back if I had known the truth of the matter. My pace might even have quickened.

Pushing aside branches, I forced my way through, curiosity getting the better of me as the undergrowth thickened. Once I'd begun, there seemed to be no sense in turning back and I was at least a little interested in seeing just where this trail led. It was probably my undoing, but I could not see that as I stepped up to a small pool, which seemed to be fed by a natural, burbling spring.

And there, there was peace. All was quiet, bar the tinkle of birdsong and the sound of the water. My breath seemed too loud in the serenity of the moment and I had to push down the urge to hold my breath, an act that would have done me no good but to tighten the band that was already around my chest. It would have only allowed me to not interrupt the simple beauty of the hidden spot, but sometimes things like that had to come behind a man's comfort.

Without thinking, I dropped to one knee and scooped up a handful of water in my cupped hands, bringing it slowly to my lips to drink.

The moment the water touched my lips, everything changed.

It was not painful by any means, but it was sudden. My skin prickled as if raked over by a thousand fingernails and I reeled back from the edge of the spring with a gasp as a coat of silvery hair burst to life where there had only been the usual light covering of arm hair before. I held out my arms before me, mouth agape, and tried to brush it away, but it spread further and further, slinking up beneath my sleeves as nothing I did stopped its inevitable encroach.

Dampness seeped into my trousers as they grew tighter and tighter. I remember thinking how very strange that was as they were loose and comfortable and perfectly suited to hiking, but all that went out the window when they split across the backside. My buttocks swelled as my spine pushed out, forcing me onto all fours as my fingers pressed together, turning dark and grey where the silvery coat of hair ended.

What was happening? Oh, such an useless question, but it was one that went through my mind on an endless loop as my back end shot up before my front, bones grinding achingly against one another as my body was forced into a new shape entirely. I could not, dared not, look at myself as bone pushed against skin, not that I could have discerned the shapes as clearly with the hair thickening all over my body. Beyond my control, it twisted and bucked, muscle yanked into new position as it pulsed and drove me on.

My arms became legs, horrifyingly so, but there was the knee and I gasped as my head pressed in, nose and lips shooting forward as if made from putty. I tried to talk, to say something, to scream, but nothing came out but a pathetic gargle. It wouldn't last long, that lack of sound, but it was terrifying in the moment as my ears itched, migrating irritatingly to the top of my head. As my neck lengthened, longer hair spilled down the side of it, falling into place so naturally that it was as if it had always been there.

My transformation was so close and yet so far, my chest heaving as I settled myself onto new, hard hooves, belly swinging and pulling up to the join of what I would later learn was my stifle. Parts like that, words for anatomy, didn't come easily to me, but that didn't matter. Nothing like that mattered as my body shifted, slowly becoming an animal that I had admired from afar in green fields and arenas, but never had the good fortune to meet.

But that was not all. I snorted and heaved a breath, eyes undoubtedly wild as I scrabbled about on four hooves, a wither bump at the base of my neck and forelock falling heavily into my eyes, a darker silver than my coat. My spine tingled at the base as a tail shot out too - that I felt, falling down over my hocks and fetlocks, a shimmering waterfall of hair that would have been simply glorious to run my hands through if I had been human. My private parts were, embarrassingly, not spared the change either and I shuddered bodily as my maleness pulled back into my body, something warm and fleshy wrapping around it as my body settled itself, entirely intact and virile still.

Churning up the soft ground at the edge of the spring, I spun and tried to rear, but struggled as my ribcage expanded, become the strong barrel that would protect my innards from harm. The change was not complete, although it must have looked so, my reflection shimmering and leaping in the water before me. I panted, snorting through twin nostrils that flared with each ragged breath, and my back ached just behind those rounded withers. I could not have anticipated what was to emerge and yet part of me still thinks I could have done so.

It seems so simple in hindsight.

Slowly, a pair of wings emerged from the front part of my back, bone swiftly coating itself with muscle and sinew and skin, the feathers following in a brilliant, gleaming arc of white. I could not help but spread them wide, testing their reach even as they grew as new muscles became apparent to me, all within the realm of my control.

And it was done. The sense of change left me as suddenly as it had appeared and I stood gasping, ears back, in a mess of mud and torn up moss as if I had been there all along. My clothes - I hadn't even realised they'd been shredded from me as I changed, but they and my backpack were the only remnants attesting to a life as anything other than what I have since become.

But one cannot mourn a life that was never truly their own, sliding out of their reign and command on a daily basis. It's much better to be under my own rule and do what I want when I wish to. And it's not as if there are any predators that can take down a full-grown stallion on the wing.

As a pegasus, the skies were at my command.

And so, I spread my wings and took flight.