author note: the original idea for this come from Defective Tomato.
«I have to go now. Thank you for saving my life.»
I twitched my ears to show her I understood what she meant – since I had met her, I had been able to learn the twoleg-speak fast enough to have a basic idea of what she was trying to say. I didn't know how I was able to do that, but I knew it was thanks to the twoleg calve in front of me.
«You are good.»
I knew it would the last thing the twoleg would say to me.
The friendly twoleg.
The she-twoleg who had freed me from the mean-twolegs that kept me prisoner inside their roaring beast and probably saved my life by doing so: very few returned from those strange creatures.
The she-twoleg who had shown me how I could transform into a twoleg and a strange deer-twoleg to protect my herd.
The she-twoleg who cared about me while every other twolegs in her herd wanted to kill me even if I had helped – and saved – them many times.
She had even begun to teach me how to speak twoleg and had only stopped when she had no choice but to leave me behind in order to protect her herd – even then, she still hated herself for doing that.
But she didn't have to feel that way. She shouldn't feel that way!
She didn't have any choice. She had to protect her herd before protecting me; just like I had to protect my herd before protecting the friendly twoleg.
Before she could answer, one of those wingless flying beasts buzzed into sight and I realized I would never know if the friendly twoleg understood that she didn't have to feel bad for me. I realized I was living my last seconds of my short life.
I saw a straight line of light – brighter than a thousand lightnings in a moonless Dark – appear next to me.
I'm not sure what happened next. I was too confused, tired and stunned by the flash of the silent lightning to be really conscious of what was happening. All I know for sure is that had been thrown in the air and that I fell asleep soon after crashing on the ground.
It was already the Dark when I woke up.
Well, to be more accurate, regained consciousness.
More or less.
It was like if my mind was trapped in a fog so heavy I could swim in it.
How did I end up like this? No. It wasn't important for now. I had to look on my herd and make sure the mean twolegs had not attacked it.
I stood up and looked around before making a tentative step forward – even if the "fog" had become a little lighter, it was still there, nonetheless – and fell loudly on the ground as I felt a sharp pain in my front left leg. A quick look showed me that it was bend at the wrong place in a weird angle.
Broken. Badly. No way I could walk back to my herd with a leg in this state.
Or maybe I could do it if I transformed into a twoleg? Unlike us, they only walked on their rear legs: going back to my herd with my front leg broken wouldn't be a problem.
I closed my eyes and pictured the twoleg I had attacked in my mind – just like the friendly twoleg had shown me. I pictured the weird fur they all had, their weird hooves they had on their rear legs, their hornless head and their tailless body.
I heard some weird noises coming from my body as it gradually changed to the mean twoleg I had rammed this Sun.
Soon after, the noises stopped and I was a twoleg.
I slowly stood up and looked at my twoleg body with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Apart the fake hooves and the weird coloured fur, I was a perfect copy of the mean twoleg. Like him, I had that weird head with eyes that only allowed me to see what was directly in front of me but allowed me to see colors that were unknown to me. Like him, I had their pathetically soft hooves they walked on (No wonder they always wore fake ones!). Like him, I had the peculiar front hooves able to take what I wanted. Like him, my rear knees bended forward and not backward, as they should. Like him, I had a funny pointy nose that wasn't able to smell anything. Like him, I had ears that barely worked. Like him, I lacked a tail. And, finally, just like all twolegs, I lacked horns.
No wonder they always ran to their beasts as soon as I walked too fast toward them. With no horns, no (real) sense of smell, no (real) sense of audition, no ability to see behind them and no hooves worth of the name, it was a miracle they were able to live long enough to make calves! Even a young crippled wolf cub would beat the strongest twoleg of their strongest herd without problem!
The two ends of my twoleg mouth went higher on my face – I think twolegs called that a "smile"; they did that when they were happy or found something funny.
Anyway. Now wasn't the time to wonder how twolegs managed to survive. I had to go back to my herd. And, for that, I had to walk as a twoleg – something that was quite hard since they could only use two of their hooves.
Cautiously, I started to walk like the friendly twoleg had shown me before. I made one step at a time while focusing on my balance – which was much harder than it sounded like since it was Dark. It was even too hard to walk like this at Dark. I was more used to walk as myself (duh) and, really, why would I care about a broken leg? I was a buffalo! I didn't care about a little pain when I had to protect my herd!
And, on that, I started to transform into my real self – just like the friendly twoleg had also taught me.
Once I was done, I had the very pleasant surprise of discovering that my leg wasn't broken anymore, as if the mean twolegs had never attacked me at all. This changed everything. I was faster than a twoleg and, with my mighty horns and hooves, would have no problem defending the herd from the mean twolegs if they attacked.
I crossed the path the twoleg's beasts travelled on and ran toward the place where my herd was as I realized how sad it must be to be a twoleg. With only two legs, how could they know how it felt like to run without constantly paying attention to your balance? It ruined all the fun of running!
Maybe I could teach the friendly twoleg how to run on four hooves like a real buffalo? That way, she could stop worrying about falling down while running. I'm sure she would like it.
Shortly after having this nice idea, I noticed what appeared to be a wooden barrier in front of me. HA! Did the twolegs really think it was enough to stop me? Let's show them how pathetic their "barrier" was! I accelerated until I was running as fast as I possibly could and lowered my head so my horns pointed at the so-called barrier. I didn't care if the noise would wake up any twolegs. I wanted to send a message to the mean-twolegs: mess with me, and you will end up like your little barrier.
No, that wasn't a good idea.
The twolegs – both the mean and the friendly one – thought I was dead. If I destroyed their barrier and went back to my herd, they would know I was still alive and they might decide to attack me again.
And if they did, they could accidentally hurt the other buffalos in my herd.
I quickly turned to my left – barely avoiding the twoleg's barrier – and headed for the forest I had noticed during Sun. I had to hide from the twolegs. As long as they thought I was dead, they wouldn't try to find me or attack my herd. I had to deal with the lightning-twolegs alone. Without my herd.
No. Not alone. The lightning-twolegs were too strong for me: the only way I could beat them was to find the only twoleg I could trust and ask for her help; I knew her herd fought the lightning-twolegs.
But, before doing that, I had to learn how humans behaved and talked to each other. And, to be able to learn it, I had to find out how I could transform. For now, I could only transform into one twoleg and the deer-twoleg – I had already tried, without success, to turn into a bird when I wanted to find the friendly-twoleg after I had lost her.
So, what did the deer-twoleg and the mean-twoleg shared but didn't share with the other? Both of them had attacked me? No. Plenty of other twolegs had done the same. Both of them were strange? No. All twolegs were weird. I had attacked both of them? No. I had defended the friendly-twoleg from every treats I had seen – which included a lot more twolegs than the one I could transform into.
Wait… I had attacked a lot of twolegs but I had only rammed the deer-twoleg and the mean-twoleg. Was that the common point I searched? Did I need to touch something if I wanted to transform into it? Now that I thought about it, the friendly twoleg had touched me before transforming into a buffalo.
It was worth a try. If all I had to do was to touch something, it would be easy for me to transform into something twolegs would never suspect: the beasts they used to travel. If I transformed into one, I would be able to go everywhere they lived and none of them would suspect me. And the best thing was that these beasts were so stupid that they didn't even think of fleeing when they were attacked. All they did was calling for help and hope their twolegs would come to help them before it was too late.
By the time I had reached this conclusion, I was already walking casually in the forest while I tried to find a nice wallow where I could drink and eat some tasty grass.
"Screaeeaeae"
I saw – and heard – a bird watching me from his hollow. I had never seen one like that. He didn't have any feathers on him. Strange. All birds I had seen so far were covered in feathers.
Maybe I should try to touch him and see if I could transform into a bird? If I succeeded, it would prove I was right about the "common point" and it would also allow me to fly in the air to find the perfect place to live in the forest as well as making it easier to spy on the twolegs if I couldn't find a way to touch their beasts without being seen. I turned around and faced the bird in his hollow. He didn't appear to be happy about my presence but it didn't matter: even if he managed to hurt me, I could always transform into a twoleg before going back into my normal form.
I approached his hollow – trying not to look like I was going to touch the occupant – until I was close enough to touch the bird with my head. I wasn't sure what to expect from him; unlike most birds, he hadn't flown away. Was he waiting for the perfect moment to attack me or was I so good at "ignoring" him that he thought I hadn't seen him? Anyway, it was too late for him. Even if he wanted to fly away, I knew I would have the time to bump him with my head.
Unfortunately, a white-faced bird attacked me before I was able to touch the small bird in the hollow. It had happened so fast! I had barely noticed a blur in front of me before feeling the bird's hooves on my head and heard no sound coming from him.
I turned my head away and shook it as hard as I could to make the whiteface go away. Without much surprise, it didn't take long for the whiteface to become tired to the point where he fell down on the ground as if he wanted to sleep there: when you're that small, you can't have a lot of endurance. I didn't waste time and continued my search: I would find another bird to touch later.
Or not.
I had already touched the whiteface so, if my assumption was correct, I would be able to become a whiteface just like I could become a deer-twoleg and a twoleg.
I walked away for a few moments so that the whiteface wouldn't attack me as soon as I would become one and pictured his body in my mind.
I heard the same strange noises I had heard the few times I transformed before and noticed myself become smaller and smaller.
I was right.
I could become anything I touched, and I was about to fly.
Finding a new wallow would be easy.
Spying on the twolegs would be even easier.