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Chapter 4: Hard Truths

Chapter 4: Hard Truths

The squirrel explained as best he could to the fox what he and the crow had experienced since waking up in these bodies. The panic, the lack of functional instincts or muscle memory, learning to follow a scent on the fly and barely being able to crawl back to this hole in the dead of night. The loss of their names.

For their part, the fox patiently listened, never chiming in to ask difficult questions. But he could tell that his story was unbelievable. There was a palpable tension building between them as he spoke, the fox’s posture stiffening and relaxing as they tried to calm themselves. Eventually, this tension boiled over and they spoke up.

“Stop,” they growled. “I know that you aren’t trying to deceive me, but these creatures you claim to have been… They don’t exist.”

“You’ve never seen a human before? Bipedal, mostly furless mammals with opposable digits?”

“…That is the most ridiculous combination of features I have ever heard a creature described with,” the fox stated after an uncomfortable pause. “And whatever you have named it is as lost on me as the name you claim to have had is on you.”

“Oh.” He tried to think of things from their perspective, that of an otherwise ordinary animal born with self-awareness and intellect. Of course they wouldn’t know what “a human” is if they’d never seen or heard of one. It’d just be an empty term referring to… something vague. And humans were kinda silly looking, relative to the rest of the animal kingdom. The more he thought of the fox’s perspective, though, the more his thoughts drifted to another subject.

“This body. It belongs to someone you knew, doesn’t it?” the squirrel squeaked. “We’re not just transformed or inhabiting the bodies of unintelligent animals. That’s why you asked what had happened to us.” He looked over to the crow, who lay slumped over on the ground nearby. He had finally passed out after his sleepless night and the excitement of the earlier misunderstanding and argument.

“If you truly do not remember,” the fox whined softly, “then it may be best not to say any more. You are damaged, and I do not want to risk further harm by overwhelming you.”

“Please. I need to know what is going on.”

“Very well,” the fox huffed, a knowing sorrow overtaking their tone. “Your name is Forager Keen-Ear. You have lived in our village for your entire life. You gather food to supplement our stores, to feed those who cannot feed themselves. The crow is your life-mate, Scholar Ink-Talon.”

The squirrel stared and blinked for a few moments, the names and jobs feeling far less important in that moment than the other new term they used. “I’m sorry, life-mate?”

“So you really are that far gone…” The fox huffed in apparent frustration before standing up and gently lifting the sleeping body of the crow in their jaws. It was clearly awkward for them, the crow’s body was just a little too big to be held comfortably. “Come, we need to return to the village as soon as possible. You need help, maybe there is still a way to fix this.” Despite their vocalizations being muffled by the muzzle full of crow, their words were still completely intelligible. They began to walk back the way they came, turning back to make sure the squirrel was following.

“I’m serious, what did you mean by ‘life-mate?’” the squirrel asked as he followed behind as best he could, barely able to keep up with the fox’s much longer strides.

“Ink-Talon is your mate, you vowed to spend the rest of your lives together. To build a family together.” The fox picked up the pace, their muffled growls audibly becoming more frustrated. Not at the squirrel, but at the situation. “You are both important to our village, so I will do everything in my power to bring you both back.”

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A vow to spend their lives together… So they were married? Or a rough equivalent, at least. The squirrel declined to press for more details, this was clearly rather hard on the fox. Instead, he focused on improving his strides to keep from falling behind, letting his mind wander as he did. Love is love, but how would a squirrel and a bird build a family? Adoption? Do they have the infrastructure for that? It occurred to the squirrel that it was odd just how readily he was able to take this idea of an animal society with towns and inter-species life partners seriously. It was almost saccharine. Like something you’d see in the adorable queer children’s books that obsessed bigots back home kept trying to get banned from schools and libraries. But he was talking to one of them right now, with their words and emotions feeling very real. And that only made what was happening all the more horrible. If we’re inhabiting their bodies, what happened to them? Are they locked away in some deep recess of their brains, or did we…

“So, what is your name?” the squirrel asked, trying to talk about anything else to get his mind off of that possibility.

“Seeker Silver-Tail,” the fox answered flatly, no longer surprised by all the things the squirrel didn’t remember.

“Thanks for putting up with me being so-Ah!” The squirrel’s attempt at showing gratitude was cut off by his left-hind leg hooking in front of a foreleg, causing him to trip and skid to a stop on his stomach while his legs on the opposite side flailed uselessly. A series of stabbing pains shot across his torso where it made contact with the ground, as if he were re-injuring a bunch of bad bruises. “Ow ow ow ow ow,” he squeaked pathetically as he drew in sharp, shallow breaths and tried and calm himself.

“Keen-Ear!” Silver-Tail let out a muffled bark before they carefully set down the crow’s unconscious body and rushed to the fallen squirrel’s side. “Are you injured? What happened?”

“I’m fine, I just tripped,” the squirrel chittered. “I’m not any good at moving faster than a leisurely walk just yet. I tried to pick up the pace and my legs just got tangled up.” He pushed himself to his feet and waited for his heart to slow down. He knew it never would completely. Even calm and at rest it beat almost twice as fast as his human heart ever did. A constant reminder.

“Apologies. I let my emotions get the better of me without considering your… condition.” Silver-Tail’s ears pinned back as they expressed the idea, as if they didn’t want to think about it any more than they had to. “That is not all, though. You are in pain.” They whined as they lowered their head to the ground and examined the squirrel for any injuries.

“I’ve just been sore since last night, and it’s gotten worse. This is the first time it’s ever hurt like that, though. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Technically, yes,” the fox answered as they stood back up, clearly relieved that it wasn’t something worse. “But it is to be expected. You have been away from home for over almost a day longer than expected and have not had any opportunity to alleviate it.” The moment they finished expressing that thought, Silver-Tail cringed, having said something against their better judgment.

“It’s okay. I’m not going to press you for any more details,” the squirrel gently placed a forepaw on the fox’s leg and looked them in the eye, trying to calm their frayed nerves. “I trust you. If you think it is best that I don’t know just yet, or if explaining it is too hard on you, then I won’t ask. This is clearly as stressful and unnerving to you as it is to me. If it is as you said, I will just find out on my own when the time is right anyway.”

“…Thank you,” the fox nodded and turned to pick up the crow once more. “We will be at the village by midday, even if I take a slower pace so that you can keep up. Follow me.”

The pair plodded on through the forest in silence, crow in tow. Unfortunately for the squirrel, learning about that last detail Silver-Tail didn’t wish him to know wouldn’t be able to wait. He had already figured it out.

Parallel points of soreness across my underside. A vow to be a family. To build a family. Very specific anatomy that I really, really was hoping wouldn’t matter… The squirrel trembled and took a deep breath, ready to acknowledge the rest, painful as it was. Keen-Ear was a new mother. She and Ink-Talon had children waiting for them to return. But they won’t.

Because they’re gone.

Because we’ve killed them and taken their place.