From Lucrezia's Bedroom to the Preserve, Saturday, Late Afternoon / Early Evening
All day, Lucrezia had felt not herself. All of her clothes were constricting; something itched beneath the surface of her skin. Something was new. Something had changed.
She tried to quiet her raging mind with composing some overdue letters, to her dearest intended, to her mother, to Cesare. The words would not come.
She had lifted her needlepoint and discovered, to her astonishment, that she no longer remembered how to weave the needle through its intricate dance. She could no more perform a simple tent stitch than she could have bent the needle into a knot.
At last, Lucrezia had given up. She had pinned her hair up to her head in a simple knot -- less distracting that way -- and changed into the gown she had worn the night of Cesare's masquerade. A style much like her friend Dany might wear; free, and with no need of a corset or heavy layers.
Wrapping a simple cloak around herself, she had intended to take a walk, but her body had had other ideas. She had shed the cloak at the edge of the Preserve and begun to run.
She could not say when she had stepped out of her shoes. She had never run like this before, breathing the cooling air and allowing her feet to fly. She did not know how or when she had lost her dress.
But Fandom was spared the sight of the Pope's daughter as Lady Godiva. Almost as soon as the air hit her exposed skin, it began to change, to morph into something new. Fur grew protectively from her pores; her nose lengthened itself into a muzzle, and the day had never smelled so sweet. Or so fascinating.
As Lucrezia padded to a stop, she was astonished to discover that she was running on all fours; that her thighs had become haunches, and her hands, strong paws with which to grip the soil. She whuffled and shook her head, enjoying the way the fur rippled along the length of her back.
She was Lady no more. She was beast. She was free.
Lucrezia tossed her head back to scream, a feral cry of spontaneous joy that her new body translated into a defiant, proud howl.
And then the girl-coyote began to run once more. The woods were enormous; may they keep her forever.
(Lucrezia lost her needlepoint skills and gained Mercy's coyote-shifting ability! Open to anyone who might be lurking in the preserve that wants to play.)
She tried to quiet her raging mind with composing some overdue letters, to her dearest intended, to her mother, to Cesare. The words would not come.
She had lifted her needlepoint and discovered, to her astonishment, that she no longer remembered how to weave the needle through its intricate dance. She could no more perform a simple tent stitch than she could have bent the needle into a knot.
At last, Lucrezia had given up. She had pinned her hair up to her head in a simple knot -- less distracting that way -- and changed into the gown she had worn the night of Cesare's masquerade. A style much like her friend Dany might wear; free, and with no need of a corset or heavy layers.
Wrapping a simple cloak around herself, she had intended to take a walk, but her body had had other ideas. She had shed the cloak at the edge of the Preserve and begun to run.
She could not say when she had stepped out of her shoes. She had never run like this before, breathing the cooling air and allowing her feet to fly. She did not know how or when she had lost her dress.
But Fandom was spared the sight of the Pope's daughter as Lady Godiva. Almost as soon as the air hit her exposed skin, it began to change, to morph into something new. Fur grew protectively from her pores; her nose lengthened itself into a muzzle, and the day had never smelled so sweet. Or so fascinating.
As Lucrezia padded to a stop, she was astonished to discover that she was running on all fours; that her thighs had become haunches, and her hands, strong paws with which to grip the soil. She whuffled and shook her head, enjoying the way the fur rippled along the length of her back.
She was Lady no more. She was beast. She was free.
Lucrezia tossed her head back to scream, a feral cry of spontaneous joy that her new body translated into a defiant, proud howl.
And then the girl-coyote began to run once more. The woods were enormous; may they keep her forever.
(Lucrezia lost her needlepoint skills and gained Mercy's coyote-shifting ability! Open to anyone who might be lurking in the preserve that wants to play.)