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You are standing by a tree star star star emptystar emptystar

There are 3 paths.


One appears to go to a jungle,
one appears to go to a cave,
one appears to go to a beach,
you could try and climb the tree,
there is a nearby shop you could go in,
or you could do something else.


So what's its going to be?

Illustrated by Catprog

Written by catprog on 01 April 2003

Climb the tree star star halfstar emptystar emptystar

You climb up the tree and sit on the branch.


The first sign that something is wrong is when your skin becomes itchy. You scratch at it but it feels different. You look and notice the feathers growing on your skin.


When you're completely covered in feathers, the next changes start. This time your mouth and nose stretch out to form a beak. By the time that the beak is finished your head has completely changed into a bird head.


Soon the changes are complete and you are now a bird. You look in amazement at your new sense of vision.

Illustrated by f0xyme

Written by catprog on 01 April 2003

Whodunnit? star star star star emptystar

   You preen yourself experimentally as the sky fades linty grey and cool rain patters through the tree's waxy leaves.


   Questions fall as thickly as the droplets of cold water.


   Where are you? Where will you go now that you're avian? What exactly just happened here? As far as you can recall, you ate dinner last night, went to sleep, and woke up standing by this bloody tree. You didn't come here by yourself, so you must have been brought. Why bring you here, then? Was someone using you for a pawn, a tool of amusement? ...Or did you know something that someone wanted to keep secret, something someone who knew that animals couldn't talk wanted quiet, someone driven up against a wall, where abduction and subsequent bodily alteration was the only solution?


   What did you know that someone didn't want you to know?


   The answers are sparse as sunshine. You know your old neighbor goes through your trash sometimes looking for contraband--he's paranoid; maybe he came across some reality-warping item and had you at the top of his "get-rid-of" list. You ratted out some fellow employees for stealing ice cream some years ago, anonymously of course, but what if they found out your name, found someone to hex you, remove you from the workforce? Apart from that, you don't know many secrets at all.


   ...Or is it that you're being kept from knowing?


   One thing's for sure: if you're wanting to get to the bottom of this, it's time to start gathering clues.

Written by Mr.Peaches on 05 January 2007

The Fall emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

Well, since you are a bird, you might as well try to go on your quest for answers by flight. It's not
like you have anything else to do, don't you?
You spread your wings for a quick test. A gentle breeze passes though your feathers. You feel that
this is a good idea. You breathe in slowly and close your eyes to give yourself courage. It can't be
that hard, can't it? Birds – real birds that is, not humans changed into birds – do this all the time. No
worries, right?
You jump of the branch, your wings spread wide. You fell gravity pull you down and your stomach
climbs into your throat. And before you know it, you are flapping your wings uncontrollably, trying
to start flying… but you can't. Gravity pulls you down.
You crash though a branch that cushions your fall before hitting the ground. You feel a sharp pain
climb up your right wing and cry out in pain. You roll over into the grass and lay on your back,
unable to even move from how much it hurts… but apart from what was once your arm it seems
that you are intact. Great work, Sherlock. Now what

Written by Clayem on 16 March 2016

The Convenient Savior emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

Wait, screaming? Now? You're not in shape!
You take a moment to slowly breath in. Tears pool in the corner of your bird eye but there is no way
you'll cry. You don't dare looking at your broken limb either, you know it will be slightly bent and
starting to get purple and swollen (and you really don't want to see that).
You can't hold the pain in anymore and you know it. You start screaming incoherently, playing that
someone would come and save you. Do they even speak proper English around here?
Luckily for you, everyone understand pain, for a few moments later someone is standing over you.
They seem human enough… The only thing is that you can't tell if they are male of female. Big
purple eyes stare back at you in a juvenile face that could be the one of a girl, but the chest is flat
and the hips have a gentle curve to them. They stand under a large, bright lila umbrella that also
protects you from the rain and they are wearing an old fashioned robe that isn't without reminding
you of what a magician would be wearing. You stop screaming and ask in a croaking voice:
“Please! Please, help me, I fell and I think I broke my arm!”
Or so is your intention, because you end up babbling the whole things and the tears you have been
fighting back stream down your face and into the grass, drowning your own words in sobs.
The newcomer frown and tuck a strand of black hair behind their ear. “Oh my,” they comment in,
thanks to any divine force that rocks your boat, understandable English. They kneel next to you in
the grass. “Are you okay? That looks like it is hurts.”
No, really? Thanks, captain Obvious.
“Please help,” you reply. Explanations can wait for when don't have a wing that hurts so bad it
makes you cry like some big baby.
Your new savior nods, bends over your wounded limb and blows on it lightly. You suddenly feel
cold and lose all sensation in it. Your head shots to the right and you gape as your wound slowly
disappears, surrounded by a purple light. It completely vanishes after a while and sensation comes
back in your wing, that you lift and shake with no more pain then a light strand.
You already observed a supernatural event – hence the beak and feathers – but real but purple
healing magic is something to behold. You stare up in amazement at the passerby, that laughs.
“Aren't you the adorable one,” they say and you notice a strange sizzling accent. “Why don't you
tell me your name?

Written by Clayem on 17 March 2016

Under the Umbrella emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

You sit up and open your mouth, but nothing comes to your mind. Oops, seems like you have
forgotten your name. Somehow, that makes you uneasy. If you forgot your name… What else could
you have forgotten? Maybe the precious truth whoever got you here didn't want you to know.
Maybe the way you got here. You make a test.
… Yup, last night, you ate spaghetti and tomato sauce, with a large piece of chocolate as a dessert.
Is it a good sign when you can remember these sort of details but not your name? Does it meant that
it has been deliberately erased from your memories?
The eyes of your savior sparkles in the shade of their large umbrella. Seriously thought, this thing is
like a flying saucer it's so huge. Turn it around and fill it with water and you got your own basin to
raise barracudas.
“Oh, so it's you…” they mysteriously reply. They stand up and lend you a hand. You discover that,
despite the kid's face, they are quite tall and you stand with ease under the umbrella. “I have been
coming to get you. Sorry I was a little late, I forgot it was today… if I would have been on time
none of this would have happened, I’m sorry.”
“What?” Your head shot up. “You were waiting for me?”
“Why of course. Come along, I got a warm bed and a meal waiting for you at home.”

Written by Clayem on 18 March 2016

Of course! A chipmunk! emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

You smile brightly and nod, which makes them laugh. They turn around and lead the way. You are
careful to follow then closely so that you don't get rained on. It occurs to you that you don't know
their name, and that it may be an indication to their elusive gender. You ask them.
“My name? You can call me Blurred.”
Is that some sort of joke? To be blurred, their gender is definitely blurred. You don't dare ask them
directly what they are, afraid to appear rude towards the person who just mended your broken arm.
It's not like it's that important anyway, is it?
Instead, you ask them if they know why you are here.
They suddenly stopped and faced you, swinging their umbrella over their shoulder so that they stay
protected but you get soaked. You raise your eyes to their face with stupor and find them narrowed,
the purple of them pooling between their thick dark lashes as if they were going to strike you with
an angry lightning bolt any moment. And yet, they still have a smile on their lips.
“Aren't you a curious little chipmunk?” They ask with a tone that says 'be careful what you ask
“I…” you try to reply, but you run out of ideas.
Their eyes become normal again and their smile become wider. “Of course! A chipmunk!”
But before you can ask of even protest, they poked you on the beak and you suddenly shrink.
Feathers change into fur, beak into pink nose, and seconds after, you are the most adorable little
thing sitting on the pavement. You don't think it's fair, but the only sounds of protest you can make
seem to enchant Blurred. They crouch next to you with a huge smile.
“Oh, look at you squeal! Do you know you are the cutest thing in a ten miles radius?” They pick
you up from the skin of the neck and bring you up to their face. From this angle, they look like a
giant that could eat you in one bite.
And let's not glance down quite yet, shall we? Your new paws paddle in the emptiness as the only
thing preventing you from falling and breaking, this time, every single bone in your little body is
the pair of fingers that are pinching rather painfully right above your shoulders. You soon grow still
and hope they will not let you go or even think about it.
“There, so much better. Let us go home now, shall we?” They chuckle at your predicament and get
up. You are now suspended in the air at a distance that it equal, now that you are small, to a seven
store building.
A glance downwards only emphasize how you do not desire to be dropped. Your dismay must be
visible on your face, for he starts laughing.
“Oh, don't worry, I'll take very good care of you...”
He lays you on his shoulder and start walking again. You lock your claws in the fabric of his clothes,
very keen on keeping yourself alive, and close your eyes. Now would be a good moment to start
praying if you have anything to pray too.

Written by Clayem on 19 March 2016

Skippy emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

Never had a simple walk been so terrifying in your life, but when Blurred lays you on the table of
his kitchen, the world seems like a brighter and better place to be: you're alive. You're well. You
breathe slowly as the magician – because he obviously is one – walks though the room. He waves
his hand a little which makes pots and tools move around in the room before he sits down at the
table and smile down at you. You can't help but notice there is something of a cat that caught a
mouse in his smug expression. You don't like that one bit.
You scurry through the table in search of a hiding place, hopefully taking Blurred by surprise. As
you reach the far end you hear a chair rattle against the floor as they get up and, in fear, you jump
off the table and on a chair. Luckily you land without damage… but you don't manage to get very
far as two large hands scoot you up and hold you to their face.
“Oh, why the rush?” They offer you a large smile. “I was only going to give you a new name. But
since you seem so keen to run away… How about Skippy?”
That is a ridiculous name. You try to protest, but you only make the most adorable squeals.
“Skippy it is, then! Now stay quiet and I will give you a bigger form.”
They lay you once more on the table and goes back to whatever they had been plotting to make for
dinner. You sit there and wonder what is they are planning to change you into next. Whatever it is,
you hope you will soon be able to ask a few questions.
After a while, he lay two smoking plates on the table, one large one, and one smaller one filled with
bits of meat in front of you. Apparently, they are planning to change you into some sort of small
“You'll see, Skippy, you are going to love it. I planned this appearance just for you.”
He snapped his fingers and purple tendrils surround you for nowhere. You feel yourself being lifted
in the air…

Written by Clayem on 20 March 2016

Flying Feline emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

Your bones grow and your flesh stretch, but you feel nothing but a distant tugging as your body
transforms once more. You don't even notice you have wings until they flop at your side. Wait, that
makes four legs and wings – again stupid wings?
“And don't break them this time, all right?” Blurred hums at you.
You try to ask them a question, but you only manage to meow. In annoyance, you flatten your ears
and hiss. What is the point of being a winged cat changed by a magician if you can't even talk?
“Oh, but I thought you would like this shape,” they continue. Their tone tries to sound annoyed but
hardly make an effort. It seems that everything you do amuses them immensely. “Since you were a
bird when I found you I thought you liked flying. I put a lot of thought into it, you know? Well, it's
not like you have a choice. After all, you are my pet.”

Written by Clayem on 21 March 2016

Life Isn emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

Their pet? You tilt your head to the side and give him a cat frown, but they ignore the questions in
your eyes and push the smaller plate towards you.
“Why don't you eat while it is still warm, my little Skippy? It's better like that.”
You frown at the nickname – because it can't be your real name, whatever your real name is – but
you are hungry… so you bend forward and start eating. The meat is delicious, and with your new
heightened sense of smell you discover a taste to it that you would have never suspected. You end
up purring happily.
Maybe being a pet wouldn't be that bad after all. Blurred seems to be the one that has an answer to
your questions and he is bound to give you one day an appearance with speech, right? Even if he
doesn't look like he wants to tell you right away what he is up to… and that his behavior is highly
suspicious… it can't be that bad, right?

Written by Clayem on 22 March 2016

Live on your life as a winged cat.

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