Chapter #3…an otter. by: atc   You just stood there and stared in the mirror. Those were your eyes, but everything else was... wrong.
On top of the whole hairiness thing, your ears were tiny little bumps. Your nose was flat and black.
Your mouth felt weird as it was now pulled forward into an animal muzzle. You moved your tongue around in your mouth and recoiled as your teeth felt like needles.
“Otter,” you said in flat disbelief. You looked like a sea otter.
You felt heavy with the water soaked in your... fur. You scratched at it with the short, blunt... claws where your fingernails should be. The pelt was so thick you couldn’t feel all the way to the skin underneath. It looked the same color as your hair. Maybe a little sandier, but still definitely blond. Is there such a thing as a blond otter?
Okay, calm down, you thought to yourself as to took a few deep breaths.
You’d spent more time than you’d care to admit thinking about what would you’d do if were an anthro, so this shouldn’t be too shocking; even if that was just fantasy and this clearly wasn’t. Plus, you’d always wanted to be something cool, like a wolf, not those things that swim on their back at the aquarium.
Looking down, Your hands barely looked like hands. Thick webbing connected your fingers together up to about the first knuckle, making your digits look look like cute little nubs.
In fact, that was the that could be used to describe all of you: cute. You hate cute. With your tiny ears, big black triangle of a nose and plush pelt you looked like a giant stuffed animal.
Looks like that plan to get a tattoo when you graduated was out.
You wrinkled your brow and curled your thin lips into a fierce sneer, showing dozens of small pointy teeth...
Nope, still adorable. Dammit!
Physically, you look to be about the same height at around 5’9”, but definitely in better shape. Round shoulders and a wider back give you the lithe build of an olympic swimmer.
Makes sense.
A loud pounding on the door made you jump into the air and emit a little surprised squeak.
“Jesse? Are you in there?” Your dad’s voice echoed from the other side of the door.
“Y-yeah?”
“Finish up and get dressed. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Your mind raced as the real implications of your inexplicable transformation hit you. How do you explain this? You can’t! How will they react? Will they freak out?! Will you?
“Um... okay, I’ll be right out.”
You run your towel roughly over your body, trying to work the moisture out of your thick fur. This leaves you looking like an adorable ball of fluff (raaaaah!)that you struggle to smooth down.
“And don’t forget to dry off your tail,” your dad’s voice called from a few steps down the hall. “You know how your mother hates it when you get the carpet wet.”
You froze. That sentence soothed your anxiety some, only to raise all sort of new questions. Does that mean everyone somehow knew you were an otter? How? Does that mean everyone else was a furry too?
The board shorts you were wearing before were still laying rumpled on the bathroom floor, but now had a slit in back that someone, presumably Mom, had lovingly sewn into a tail hole. It took some fiddling, but you got them on easily enough.
Your t-shirt, on the other... hand had been replaced with a baggy Hawaiian shirt that you only buttoned up part way to avoid being too tight on your pelt.
You poked your head out the door looking for any other family members. Turning to look down the other end of the hall, got another start (and squeak) when you found yourself eye to eye with Kira, your older (and completely normal human) sister.
“What?” Kira said coldly as she walked away down the hall.
Okay, you thought to yourself. Kira’s still human, but she’s not freaked out that you’re not.
“Hurry up. Everyone’s dinner is going to be cold waiting on you,” she said as she kept walking.
Weird. Wonder what’s got her in such a bad mood.
You walked down the hall to the dining room as nonchalantly as a boy who’d just been turned into a giant anthropomorphic sea otter could be. Looking at the numerous family photos that lined the walls you saw one glaring difference; you weren't in any of them! You lean in to look closer. The shots and poses look the same as you remember, you’re just... not there; human or otherwise.
At the end of the hall, you finally find one picture with you in it; the newest one on the wall from last Christmas. The whole family was piled around a grinning otterboy wearing an ill-fitting santa hat that was slipping over his tiny ears.
Dammit! I hate cute!
The dining room looked the same, except the tall, stiff chair where you normally sit was missing its back. You took the cue and sat down, trying to act natural while avoiding sitting on your tail.
You failed.
You were about the say something to break the tension and maybe get a hint as to what the holy hell is actually going on, when your nose was hit by the most amazing smell you’d ever experienced. You closed your eyes to better focus on your enhanced sense of smell and the amazing aroma coming from the kitchen.
“Careful, hon. It’s still pretty hot,” your Mom said as she set a whole cooked trout down in front of you.
You could feel your tail wiggling behind you in excitement. The notion that you don't usually care for fish evaporated as you couldn't keep from drooling and wanted nothing more than to tear into this magnificent meal. Except for one thing...
“um... can I get a fork?”
Four blank faces stare back at you.
“Please?”
It was another couple seconds before Mom broke the silence.
“Of course you can, dear,” she said handing you a spare fork.
“It’s just that for as resistant as you've been in the past, we’d sorta given up on that. I’m proud of you,” Mom said as she kissed your forehead and gave your ear a scritch.
...
It’s good to remember priorities. Sure you may have taken the form of a humanoid bipedal sea otter, and have no explanation why or how your family doesn't find this odd, but dammit that trout was amazing. And it’s hard to have an existential crisis with a full belly.
The fork was a bit of challenge with the webbing and such. You could see why you’d avoided them in the past... the past you don’t remember.
Kira still shot you the occasional angry glance at dinner. Need to figure out what that’s all about.
After dinner, you spent an hour or so playing videogames with your little brother Andy, who unlike Kira, was thrilled to spend time with you.
The controller was awkward in your new webbed... let’s face it, paws, but you still managed to put your little brother in his digital; place before dad came in and sent Andy off to bed.
“Okay, furball. You too," Dad said turning to you. "You've got a big day ahead of you.”
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