{"id":416,"date":"2012-07-24T09:48:42","date_gmt":"2012-07-24T12:48:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/?p=416"},"modified":"2012-07-24T09:48:42","modified_gmt":"2012-07-24T12:48:42","slug":"new-opportunities","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/one-shot\/new-opportunities\/","title":{"rendered":"New Opportunities"},"content":{"rendered":"

The sound of Luke’s own footsteps sounded foreign to him, now \u2013 claws clicking on the linoleum despite his efforts to the contrary. It was a constant reminder of what he was now \u2013 and thus of what he’d lost. At least he could<\/em> walk, now; it had been weeks before he could do so at all, and weeks more before his balance was steady. Reaching for the refrigerator, and seeing a hand clad in soft grey fur, was still jarring.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, hey.\u201d<\/p>\n

It was a familiar voice, and it wasn’t like there were more than a half-dozen people with access to this house, but there were elements to it now that he’d never heard before. Yet another reminder that he didn’t need… \u201cHey, Monica,\u201d he sighed, grabbing the jug of filtered water.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry I didn’t hear you come in. If I’d known the doctors had let you go, I’d have come pick you up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Luke bit back a twinge of irrational pique. She only means well, he told himself sternly, turning to the counter and reaching up for a glass. \u201cHonestly, I needed something<\/em> I could to by myself. Finally.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I can see that,\u201d she said cautiously, hooking an errant curl of brown hair behind her ear. Then, with a brighter tone, \u201cIt’s good to see you around again, anyway \u2013 in one form or another.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf I actually had a choice in the matter…\u201d He bit his lip.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, I know.\u201d She reached up to touch his shoulder, fingers sliding along his arm. \u201cHow are you feeling? Health-wise, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

Luke finished pouring and set the jug down, taking up the glass instead. \u201cWell,\u201d he sighed, \u201cI can walk around properly. I’m past the synaesthesia. I could drive if I didn’t keep catching my claws on things \u2013 balance is fine, reactions are better than human normal. I’m not short of breath, I don’t gag at the least bit of scent, and thank fucking God<\/em> I’m not itching<\/em> anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n

Monica winced. \u201cYou know, with the entire list of symptoms you just rattled through and everything else, I guess it really says something that the thing everyone<\/em> who contracts PMV remembers most is the itching.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe other things I could do something to ease. The itching never stopped.<\/em>\u201d Luke glared down at the fur he now sported. \u201cIf I was still human,<\/em> I might feel like I could have a normal life<\/em> again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShh…\u201d She reached up to his cheek, tracing the outline of his musteline muzzle. \u201cYou’ll get through it. It’ll be okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Luke blinked in spite of himself. \u201cYou… never seemed to be the touchy-feely type, Monica. Not that I mind,\u201d he hastened to add.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I, uh…\u201d Flushing a bit, she looked away. \u201cAt least you got a very, um, nice-<\/em>looking form of proteomorph.\u201d<\/p>\n

Suddenly he felt dizzy, and it wasn’t a complication from having his body regrow itself like a mink’s. \u201cMonica? Are you saying…?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI’m saying,\u201d she said, turning back toward him, \u201cthat if you’ve had enough of being alone at the hospital… you don’t need to be tonight. You’re a good guy, you deserve better than that, and… honestly, that looks really<\/em> good on you, and I’m… curious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you were pretty much asexual,\u201d Luke objected.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo did I.\u201d Monica shrugged. \u201cGuess I’m just not into your everyday human.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then she leaned in, tucked a hand behind his neck, and kissed him.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

After suffering a disease that rewrote the very pattern of his body, a man finally returns to his home, lamenting the loss of what he was, only to find new possibilities in what he is.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[25],"tags":[84,73],"class_list":["post-416","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-one-shot","tag-flash","tag-transformation"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=416"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":417,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/416\/revisions\/417"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=416"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=416"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=416"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}