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Description
Matthew sighed as he slipped the pack off of his back and laid it next to a log and rubbed his shoulders before sitting down.
The young man looked around the ancient forest and ran a pail hand through his dark hair, damp with sweat. This was his first trip to Japan, and so far he had enjoyed it, save for Tokyo. He was not one for the city, or even school tips such as this, though the one to France was nice, he much rather preferred the quiet of park or forest. That is how he found himself there, on solo day-hike around Mount Shindainichi, Studying the flora and fauna. Though the 'solo' part was something he regretted. A forest tends to lose most of its serenity when you are lost in it.

Once more, he looked at his compass, he was still heading East. If he kept going, he thought, he was sure to run into a road, or at least a trail, maybe he would even stubble back into Kiyokawa. But he knew one thing, he had to get back before it got dark. Being lost in the woods in one thing, being lost at night is another.
Thought, that would make for an interesting paper.

He sighed again as he stood and turned to pick up his pack, but as he did so his foot struck something hard in the dirt. Glancing down he expected to see a stone or root, but instead he saw something red sticking out of the ground. Curious, he stooped down to look at it. It looked like forked piece of wood that had been smoothed down and painted a dull red. "Strange." He thought, as he reached out and grabbed it, only to find it was not wooden, but smooth stone, or maybe bone.

He decided to take well-needed mental break from his situation. "What could it be?" he thought, "A small statue, like an Idol?" He gave it a tug, but it barley moved. He looked around and picked up a thin stone which he used to scrape away some of the soil like a make-shift spade.
"How old is it? How much would it be worth?" He thought, maybe, if he brought back some artifact of historically note, he might not get in as bad of trouble for going off on such a trip alone, or at least he hoped so.

After removing about an inch of soil, he sat the stone aside pulled on the rod again, the soft ground around it began to give, a large oval of dirt lifted up around it like a mole hill. It seemed as if it was attached to something larger buried in the earth. He pulled harder, and felt the thing shifting more. "There we go." He said with a finale tug as the object came lose from its earthen prison. Matthew gasp and almost dropped it when he saw what he had unearthed. It was skull.

Though, not a human skull, but one of a horse, or something like a horse by the looks of it. The fear quickly passed, and confusion set in once again. He began looking over the aged head. The odd red thing was protruding form the forehead, like a horn, with two stripes carved near the base, both in an inverted 'V' shape. "Some kind of odd decoration?" He said, puzzled, as he wiped the wed soil from around the base, only to find that the 'horn' was indeed just that. There was no seam between the horn and the skull, it was not a separate piece been attached to the skull, like he though, it was part of it.

His mine ran back to something his teacher had said during one of his rambles, the tale of a mythical hooved creature called a 'Qilin' or 'Kirin'. From what he could remember, they were a chimera-like thing, a mix of deer, horse, and dragon. He regraded not listening, ever more so then when he got a D- for that assignment.

His confusion was suddenly cut through by a thought that made his eyes light up. The Kirin is myth, or at least thought to be, yet here in his hands he held proof that they were once as real. The thought swelled within him, that of fame and of money.
He began to rub the dirt from his prize as he fantasied about interviews and large checks, but he did so, failed to notice the stripes of the horn as they began to faintly glow.

He was soon snapped out of his thoughts when the skull sudden burst into flames. Panicking, he dropped it, only for it to devolve into dust before it had even hit the ground. Though to that he payed little mind, as the blue and red flames stuck to his hands. He cried out as he smacked his hands against his jacket, as he tried to stamp out the flames, but only managed to singe the fabric.

It took him a moment to realize that the flames were not burning him, instead they send a comfortable warmth through his hand. It might have been more comfortable had he not seen what was happening to his hands. His thumbs were shrinking, his fingers swelling as the nails thickened. This couldn't be real, he thought, maybe he was dehydrated and hallucination. It had to be something, his mind searched for rational reason.

Matthew shook his head and hands, but he couldn't shake away the vision, nor the feeling. His fingers cramped, pulling them selves together as his thumb vanished into his wrist. His two middle fingers began to outpace his outer two as his hand stretched out and rounded, his nails encasing them as they turned a dull green. His outer two fingers where shrinking, soon becoming hard green nubs on the inside of his hoof, now sprouting cream-coloured fur.

Hoof? Indeed, Matthew's hands had become a pair of deer-like cloven hooves, which it stared at completely dumbfounded, panting heavily. The smell of burning cloth filled his nose as the flames spread up his arms, setting the sleeves of his jacket alight. He frantically tried to pull off the now burning coat, but his new appendages were ill-suited for the task. The fire spread, felt its odd warmed seeping into his arms, the fur spreading with it, long tufts sprouting on his wrists. The bones shifted, the muscles grew stronger, reforming into something built for running. It felt... Oddly nice.

Soon his entire jacket was engulfed, slowly turning to ash as the fur crept over his chest and up his neck. His shoulders pop, rolling forward into those of a quadruped. The shock sent him sprawling forward onto his hands and knees. The flames reached his pants as his hair grew longer, the dark drown being overtaken by rich orange that spread down the sides of his neck.

The fire engulfed him, he felt it working its way into him, into every part of his being. He felt his feet growing longer, his big toe pulling in as his thumb had, the nails thickening as they encased the digits. The scorched leather soon gave way to forming hooves, his shins cracked painlessly as they shortened, his jeans crumbled away, reveling the fur beneath.

His spine suddenly curved inward to better suit his future four-legged stride. His back became dry and flaky, then by large plates pushing out of is skin, a coat of hard green scales taking shape, moving up the back of his neck. Then another pulse shot through his spine, then another, and another, becoming rhythmic. He shifted his legs and stood on his new hind hooves as he felt his neck growing longer, as well as a nub forming at the base of his pulsing spine.

The nub scratched out, growing longer and longer with each pulse, as a pressure grew in his face. The lengthening tail sprouted long orange hair, matching the lion-like mane forming around his neck and tufts the grew from his heels. The pressure in his head grew, then something gave, and his face began to push outward. His torso did the same, slowly rounding into a barrel, his hips rotating forward as his flank formed.

Forward and forward his face snapped, his ears growing into long and funnel-like as they move upwards, his nose melted into in upper lip. His teeth flattened out, better suited to his new plant-based diet. Thick scales, matching his back, formed down the bridge of what was once his nose. The muzzle gave a final pop, signaling its compilation.

Panting, Matthew stared at the leaf covered ground for some time, the frames fading, before he got the nerve to look himself over: Green, cloven hooves, matching scales running along his back, neck and head, an orange tail and mane...
But something felt off. He bent his long neck down and looked bent his legs. What was once there was gone, not even his gender had escaped the flames. He should have felt fear, or disgust, at his new alien from, yet, she felt somewhat giddy. Something about it just felt right to her, it felt nice, and warm.

The warmth seemed to focus itself into her forehead. A lump formed, the warmth of the dying flames poured into it as it grow longer, forking as it turned a deep red. The feeling was indescribable, a feeling of powerful, deep contentment. Two ridges, both in the shape on an inverted 'V' formed, glowing a light blue. With a burst a magic and cry from Matthew, the horn was complete.

Once more, the mare stared at the leaf covered ground, panting heavily. Slowly she pulled her mind back together.
"Well, what now...?" She thought, looking herself other again. She looked over to her pack, deciding that she might as well keep heading back. What else was there to do?

She picked up her pack and paused. She hadn't used her hooves to grab it, instead both the bag and her horn shimmered with blue light. Telepathic, it came so naturally that she didn't even give it a second thought. She let the pack down and looked at the stone she had used as a spade just a minute ago. She picked it up with her magic just as naturally as she would have picked it up with her old hands.

She smirked and once again picked up her pack and looked at the compass before heading east again. Maybe fame wasn't out of the question yet. Proving a mythical beast was once real? Nothing! Proving is both real and living by becoming one? Now that is something worthy of a spotlight!
-Or, at the very least, a passing grade.

Story by Magnolia Majestica: www.furaffinity.net/user/magno…@

Description
Matthew sighed as he slipped the pack off of his back and laid it next to a log and rubbed his shoulders before sitting down.
The young man looked around the ancient forest and ran a pail hand through his dark hair, damp with sweat. This was his first trip to Japan, and so far he had enjoyed it, save for Tokyo. He was not one for the city, or even school tips such as this, though the one to France was nice, he much rather preferred the quiet of park or forest. That is how he found himself there, on solo day-hike around Mount Shindainichi, Studying the flora and fauna. Though the 'solo' part was something he regretted. A forest tends to lose most of its serenity when you are lost in it.

Once more, he looked at his compass, he was still heading East. If he kept going, he thought, he was sure to run into a road, or at least a trail, maybe he would even stubble back into Kiyokawa. But he knew one thing, he had to get back before it got dark. Being lost in the woods in one thing, being lost at night is another.
Thought, that would make for an interesting paper.

He sighed again as he stood and turned to pick up his pack, but as he did so his foot struck something hard in the dirt. Glancing down he expected to see a stone or root, but instead he saw something red sticking out of the ground. Curious, he stooped down to look at it. It looked like forked piece of wood that had been smoothed down and painted a dull red. "Strange." He thought, as he reached out and grabbed it, only to find it was not wooden, but smooth stone, or maybe bone.

He decided to take well-needed mental break from his situation. "What could it be?" he thought, "A small statue, like an Idol?" He gave it a tug, but it barley moved. He looked around and picked up a thin stone which he used to scrape away some of the soil like a make-shift spade.
"How old is it? How much would it be worth?" He thought, maybe, if he brought back some artifact of historically note, he might not get in as bad of trouble for going off on such a trip alone, or at least he hoped so.

After removing about an inch of soil, he sat the stone aside pulled on the rod again, the soft ground around it began to give, a large oval of dirt lifted up around it like a mole hill. It seemed as if it was attached to something larger buried in the earth. He pulled harder, and felt the thing shifting more. "There we go." He said with a finale tug as the object came lose from its earthen prison. Matthew gasp and almost dropped it when he saw what he had unearthed. It was skull.

Though, not a human skull, but one of a horse, or something like a horse by the looks of it. The fear quickly passed, and confusion set in once again. He began looking over the aged head. The odd red thing was protruding form the forehead, like a horn, with two stripes carved near the base, both in an inverted 'V' shape. "Some kind of odd decoration?" He said, puzzled, as he wiped the wed soil from around the base, only to find that the 'horn' was indeed just that. There was no seam between the horn and the skull, it was not a separate piece been attached to the skull, like he though, it was part of it.

His mine ran back to something his teacher had said during one of his rambles, the tale of a mythical hooved creature called a 'Qilin' or 'Kirin'. From what he could remember, they were a chimera-like thing, a mix of deer, horse, and dragon. He regraded not listening, ever more so then when he got a D- for that assignment.

His confusion was suddenly cut through by a thought that made his eyes light up. The Kirin is myth, or at least thought to be, yet here in his hands he held proof that they were once as real. The thought swelled within him, that of fame and of money.
He began to rub the dirt from his prize as he fantasied about interviews and large checks, but he did so, failed to notice the stripes of the horn as they began to faintly glow.

He was soon snapped out of his thoughts when the skull sudden burst into flames. Panicking, he dropped it, only for it to devolve into dust before it had even hit the ground. Though to that he payed little mind, as the blue and red flames stuck to his hands. He cried out as he smacked his hands against his jacket, as he tried to stamp out the flames, but only managed to singe the fabric.

It took him a moment to realize that the flames were not burning him, instead they send a comfortable warmth through his hand. It might have been more comfortable had he not seen what was happening to his hands. His thumbs were shrinking, his fingers swelling as the nails thickened. This couldn't be real, he thought, maybe he was dehydrated and hallucination. It had to be something, his mind searched for rational reason.

Matthew shook his head and hands, but he couldn't shake away the vision, nor the feeling. His fingers cramped, pulling them selves together as his thumb vanished into his wrist. His two middle fingers began to outpace his outer two as his hand stretched out and rounded, his nails encasing them as they turned a dull green. His outer two fingers where shrinking, soon becoming hard green nubs on the inside of his hoof, now sprouting cream-coloured fur.

Hoof? Indeed, Matthew's hands had become a pair of deer-like cloven hooves, which it stared at completely dumbfounded, panting heavily. The smell of burning cloth filled his nose as the flames spread up his arms, setting the sleeves of his jacket alight. He frantically tried to pull off the now burning coat, but his new appendages were ill-suited for the task. The fire spread, felt its odd warmed seeping into his arms, the fur spreading with it, long tufts sprouting on his wrists. The bones shifted, the muscles grew stronger, reforming into something built for running. It felt... Oddly nice.

Soon his entire jacket was engulfed, slowly turning to ash as the fur crept over his chest and up his neck. His shoulders pop, rolling forward into those of a quadruped. The shock sent him sprawling forward onto his hands and knees. The flames reached his pants as his hair grew longer, the dark drown being overtaken by rich orange that spread down the sides of his neck.

The fire engulfed him, he felt it working its way into him, into every part of his being. He felt his feet growing longer, his big toe pulling in as his thumb had, the nails thickening as they encased the digits. The scorched leather soon gave way to forming hooves, his shins cracked painlessly as they shortened, his jeans crumbled away, reveling the fur beneath.

His spine suddenly curved inward to better suit his future four-legged stride. His back became dry and flaky, then by large plates pushing out of is skin, a coat of hard green scales taking shape, moving up the back of his neck. Then another pulse shot through his spine, then another, and another, becoming rhythmic. He shifted his legs and stood on his new hind hooves as he felt his neck growing longer, as well as a nub forming at the base of his pulsing spine.

The nub scratched out, growing longer and longer with each pulse, as a pressure grew in his face. The lengthening tail sprouted long orange hair, matching the lion-like mane forming around his neck and tufts the grew from his heels. The pressure in his head grew, then something gave, and his face began to push outward. His torso did the same, slowly rounding into a barrel, his hips rotating forward as his flank formed.

Forward and forward his face snapped, his ears growing into long and funnel-like as they move upwards, his nose melted into in upper lip. His teeth flattened out, better suited to his new plant-based diet. Thick scales, matching his back, formed down the bridge of what was once his nose. The muzzle gave a final pop, signaling its compilation.

Panting, Matthew stared at the leaf covered ground for some time, the frames fading, before he got the nerve to look himself over: Green, cloven hooves, matching scales running along his back, neck and head, an orange tail and mane...
But something felt off. He bent his long neck down and looked bent his legs. What was once there was gone, not even his gender had escaped the flames. He should have felt fear, or disgust, at his new alien from, yet, she felt somewhat giddy. Something about it just felt right to her, it felt nice, and warm.

The warmth seemed to focus itself into her forehead. A lump formed, the warmth of the dying flames poured into it as it grow longer, forking as it turned a deep red. The feeling was indescribable, a feeling of powerful, deep contentment. Two ridges, both in the shape on an inverted 'V' formed, glowing a light blue. With a burst a magic and cry from Matthew, the horn was complete.

Once more, the mare stared at the leaf covered ground, panting heavily. Slowly she pulled her mind back together.
"Well, what now...?" She thought, looking herself other again. She looked over to her pack, deciding that she might as well keep heading back. What else was there to do?

She picked up her pack and paused. She hadn't used her hooves to grab it, instead both the bag and her horn shimmered with blue light. Telepathic, it came so naturally that she didn't even give it a second thought. She let the pack down and looked at the stone she had used as a spade just a minute ago. She picked it up with her magic just as naturally as she would have picked it up with her old hands.

She smirked and once again picked up her pack and looked at the compass before heading east again. Maybe fame wasn't out of the question yet. Proving a mythical beast was once real? Nothing! Proving is both real and living by becoming one? Now that is something worthy of a spotlight!
-Or, at the very least, a passing grade.

Story by Magnolia Majestica: www.furaffinity.net/user/magno…@