Transformation by Kim Fielding

Author:Kim Fielding [Fielding, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-02-24T16:00:00+00:00

6

Orris wasn’t sure which he appreciated more: the luxury of a private room to himself, or the ability to stretch out on a real, lump-free mattress. The knowledge that he’d built a substantial portion of that bedroom was a bonus, leading to a warm feeling of satisfaction. The separate room was particularly nice given the odd sleeping hours he’d been practicing these last two weeks. At his own insistence, he’d continued to guard the sheep every night, snatching a few hours of rest after dawn and after the noontime meal. When he wasn’t sleeping or patrolling, he helped with the farm chores.

He felt ragged and blurry, as if he were slowly growing transparent. Which was odd, because in reality he was slowly developing hard muscles. He’d never be as brawny as Samuel, but his labors came ever more easily and his body felt sleek and sinewy under his skin.

Even when he took to his new bed, Orris didn’t fall asleep at once. He ached with need in a way he never had—either before or after becoming Daniel’s lover—and he took himself in hand shockingly often. Maybe the people who said masturbation leads to insanity were correct. His mental equilibrium was certainly unbalanced. But his own touch felt too good to forgo.

And when he did finally succumb to sleep, he dreamed. More of those strange, tumbled visions of hunting and being hunted, of forests, of a naked body embracing him, of blood and glowing green eyes. The dreams simultaneously terrified and thrilled him.

One drizzly morning, Orris helped Samuel harness Beau to the plow. The horse waited somewhat impatiently, snorting frequently as if to hurry them along. He seemed happier once he began to till the field, plodding back and forth in straight lines with Samuel at his side. Orris took in the scent of rich, freshly tilled earth and the cacophony of several bird species that feasted amid the overturned soil.

The field was nearly finished when Samuel’s younger daughter came running full-tilt in their direction, braids flying out behind her. “Papa! Papa! The baby!”

Samuel went instantly paper-white. “Orris,” he groaned.

“Go. Go tend to her. I’ll take care of the horse.”

Samuel ran to the house without looking back.

Orris and Beau looked at one another. Over the past couple of weeks, they’d reached a fragile truce, although both were still nervous around the other. But perhaps Beau realized that without Orris’s help, he was likely to be stuck in his traces for a very long time, so he stood still as Orris fumbled to unhook him from the plow. Orris didn’t even need to lead Beau back to the barn—in fact, the horse led him. Once they were inside, Orris made sure Beau had food and water, but he didn’t try to brush him down as Samuel would have. He hoped Beau wouldn’t be too much the worse for wear; at least, he seemed content enough.

Orris washed up at the pump and then, with considerable trepidation, entered the house. Heavy footsteps sounded on

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