Math 100 is a huge class. Easily 200 students in a big lecture hall. Even in that sea of people, she stood out to me.

Long jet black hair, black nail polish, black lipstick, lots of real leather both on her clothes and for her accessories, knee high black boots with a heavy sole. No one dressed like her and no one looked like her. She did her own thing in a room bursting with conformity.

She asked sharp questions, in a soft but commanding voice, in class. Her questions brought clarity to everyone who listened.

She sat in the same spot every class but didn’t mingle with those around her. She was alone but didn’t come off as lonely.

I occasionally saw her on the campus quad, usually under the shade of a big elm tree. Never doing anything, just sitting and basking in being outside.

It’s not that I was stalking her or anything - I just always seemed to notice her when she was about. Just about her, always captures my attention.

—————————

“Dude,” Justin says as we are walking through the quad, “you are staring at her again.”

“I am not staring. I am just…. noticing her… sitting there,” I said defensively.

“You need to go say ‘hi’ already. Your noticing is starting to get creepy.”

He was right. I was staring too much, too often.

“Fine! Fine! I will go talk to her,” I said, trying to convince myself this wasn’t a horrible idea. I walked across the lush green grass of the quad. There were students lounging around, some playing frisbee, some just goofing off. It was easily my favourite place on campus.

I walked towards the tree she was under, I could still veer off, I could still bail out - should I? Fuck I am getting close I gotta -

“Hi,” she said simply as I got close. “I was wondering if you were going to get the nerve to talk to me.” She was smiling a bright genuine smile that lit up her face.

I awkwardly sat down opposite her.

“You noticed, huh?” I said, running my hand through my hair.

“You aren’t exactly subtle,” she says still smiling.

We chat the afternoon away. Little things - our majors, what dorms we are in, our professors… all of the usually university chit chat. She was easy to talk to. So comfortable in her own skin - in who she is.

We talked through my 3pm class and through her 4pm class. We were both enjoying ourselves in a way that I have never had while talking to someone else. It just all felt so right.

“I should get going,” I finally said, glancing at my watch. “I have volleyball practice and my coach will tear a strip off of me if I am late.”

I stand up and offer her a hand up. She takes its. Her hand is warm. It is unexpectedly calloused, like someone who does lots of work with their hands, and much stronger than I expected. I pull her up.

“See you tomorrow, in math class,” she says with a wink. She takes a step and then leans against the tree, letting out a little grunt.

“Hey, you ok?” I am instantly worried for her.

She hangs her head and takes a couple of deep breaths.

“Fine. I am fine,” she lies.

She is clearly not alright.

“I will walk you to your dorm. I have time,” she starts to protest, “Don’t. I will walk you. Can’t have you passing out half way there.”

She takes my arm in hers and we walk to her dorm.

The chit chat has died out and she looks apprehensive. Scanning the quad - she is tense and on edge.

The sun is dipping behind the campus buildings, casting the quad into premature twilight. The lamp posts flicker and come to life - one by one.

I keep trying to get her talking but I am just getting one syllable answers. Something has her preoccupied.

We are almost at the dorms. There is a rustling over by the dumpsters. She freezes. Tension runs through her body and I can feel it in her arm. Her breathing speeds up.

“It’s ok, we are almost there. It is just a couple more metres,” I say reassuringly.

A shadow separates itself from the dumpster. Must be someone dumpster diving. Seems harmless. The shadow starts coming towards us, walking then running.

She brushes my arm off and squares herself to the shadow.

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. She drops her backpack and stand with her legs shoulder width apart and her arms loose. Her hands start to glow in a bluish white light.

The shadow is clearly a man, about our age, running towards us. His face is covered in messy rotten food.

“Die! Witch!” He yells.

She swirls her hands around and then suddenly pushes them out from her centre. A ball of bluish white light blasts off from her hands and hits him in the chest. He staggers and then falls to his knees.

She runs to him, spinning her right arm, windmill style. The bluish white light gathers on her hand. She leaps at him - just as she is about to land the light from her hand lashes out like a blade - slicing him in half.

Stunned - I shake my head and walk over to her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she says panting.

Looking at the guy, sliced cleanly in half, lying on the ground in front of her and then back to her.

“What the hell is going on?” I say, terrified.

She takes a knee in front of the body. “Ghoul,” she says. “It was rooting around in the dumpster for rotten food. They usually feed on dead animals and people but anything filled with decay will do in a pinch.”

Her eyes never left the body as she spoke. A soft light emanated from her hands. She pressed them to the ground in front of the body. The grass started to glow. The glowing spread and enveloped the ghoul as well. Then the whole thing gets swallowed up by the grass.

She stood up and looked into my wild eyed face. She smiled slightly.

“I am Angela and I am a witch,” she gave a slight tilt to her head, “I don’t usually tell people in such a dramatic fashion but ghouls are an abomination that have to be dealt with. They will corrupt everything they touch. It had to be dealt with.”

“Ok,” I said simply. Somehow I wasn’t bothered or even phased by this. I handed her the backpack she dropped and we walked to her dorm.

I open the door for her.

“You good?” She asked as she went in the door. “You have been awful quite since…. Since the ghoul.”

“I am good,” I said with a smile. “You didn’t need me to walk you back at all. Did you?”

“No, but it is very sweet,” she said with a smile. “See you tomorrow?”

“You know it!”

She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and headed into the dorm.

It was going well until she found out I'm a furry. But we're getting ahead of ourselves, aren't we?

It was your average Monday, and I kept sneaking glances at Laria who was sitting a couple rows over from me. She was our resident goth when goth as a style was dying out, and there were rumors she was a witch. Arthur, noticing my furtive glances, dared me to take her out on a date, and despite my insistence that I couldn't - I didn't even drive a car - he and a bunch of other guys insisted, and transportation would not be a problem since one of them volunteered to double-date with his girlfriend.

So now it was Friday night, and we skipped out on the football game to go to an Italian place, which Laria and I decided on. The four of us got our orders in, and then it was time for conversation. Gerald, the guy who was dating Hannah, let slip the fateful remark, and I felt a chill in the air as Laria fixed me with a strange yet powerful stare, and I felt electricity flow between us as something clicked in place.

The rest of the date proceeded without incident, and we went out separate ways as Gerald dropped each of us off. Laria gave me a kiss as I stopped at her door, and the sparks seemed to intensify.

That night was the most painful one I ever had, and I passed out at some point for the rest of the weekend, even missing church that Sunday. When I awoke early Monday morning, I was thirsty above all else, and so I went to the bathroom for a drink of water.

Turning on the light, I was grateful I held a plastic cup, the strange sensations from my proprioception making sense now as I beheld the body of an anthropomorphic bassarisk, and I realized Laria had turned me into what I now knew to be my true fursona. Odd, I thought, looking up what I had become. I've always thought of myself as a wolf, but...this 'ringtail' fits me to a T.

I suddenly grew a big self-conscious, noticing I was naked, and shuddered as I thought of the fright I must have given my folks. Only then did I realize all the time I had lost as I glanced at the date on my phone, and got to work right away on the homework that would be due later that day.

When I got to school that morning, I noticed that despite how different I was, people were treating it as though it was...normal? Then I realized that they were whispering not about me, but about Laria, and I turned around and beheld the most beautiful bassarisk woman I had ever seen.

First period was awkward as the teacher seated us next to each other, muttering something about the consequences of wish fulfillment and curses whilst offering congratulations, and Laria mentioned to me that the teacher is her father. With a common name like Smith, I wouldn't have guessed. She promised to explain everything to me at lunch, and I reluctantly agreed, though I wanted to know right then what was going on and why both of us were bassarisk people.

The explanation took the whole lunch period after we got our meat-laden meals, and now I understood why her dad was both upset and elated. Apparently if a witch or wizard transforms someone into something else by a curse or fulfillment of a wish, that person's soulmate is transformed as well in order that no barriers be erected in the way of true love. And so, when she transformed me into my true fursona, she became her true fursona as well, and since we were soulmates...

Years have gone by since then, and after graduating from high school and college, we are the proud parents of many children, all bassarisks as well...at least until they meet their soulmates. Then they become their soulmate's true fursona. Having this "curse" be passed down and propagate through further generations does not concern us; after all, humanity needs to speciate, as 8 billion of a single species is too much. And it turns out we weren't the first to undergo such a transformation, as descendants of other such couples from throughout history have come out of the woodwork to help us find jobs and other things necessary for functioning in society. You know those mascots you see at sports games and theme parks? A good number of them actually have actual furries underneath.

As I lay here with Laria in my furred arms, making love once again, I once more thank Gerald for mentioning that small detail about me. Without that remark, I would be a lot worse off in life right now. That sly fox...

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

[removed]

[removed]

[removed]