Book One: Onnu and Pannu

Clack

"Did... did you comprehend the actual words that came out of my mouth?" She unconsciously echoed Michael, but was too stunned to realize it.
   Todd stopped, floundered for quite a time. He looked around, but everyone else was staring at him, too.
   "What? You live around someone long enough, you gotta pick up words here and there, right?"
   "Hey man, I didn't wanna mention this before, but you're kinda... hairy. And, like, I think you're growing a tail." Hammer pointed to Todd's backside.
   "I wasn't gonna point it out, but your feet need new shoes every month. I thought you were just bein' particularly hard on 'em, but I hafta make a new form every time." Stan was reluctant to plainly say that Todd's feet had gotten short and stumpy. The soles were so tough, he'd stopped putting anything on the bottom of the shoes. They'd both put it down to normal callouses and things, but he wasn't so sure anymore.
   Onnu gently reminded them that their children began as humans, and became a different kin as they grew. "Perhaps growth is not always so visible. It may be that there are no humans on the fortnight worlds at all. Only... I have not yet seen the likes of your kin. It would seem, my friend, that you are to be the first of your kin."
   It should have made him happy, or proud, or something good, but he was just plain confused. And scared. He didn't want to look different! He wanted to look the way he always had! And what if Solara didn't love him anymore?
   Except she hadn't left yet. He looked at his hands, how hairy they were now. How hard his nails had gotten. They were even beginning to get little points on them. Now that they mentioned it, when he kissed Solara, there was a bit more nose bumping than there had been before. He felt his face, and there was a sort of... muzzle growing. Why hadn't she mentioned it sooner?
   When he got home, her answer was "Because it doesn't matter."
   Well, it mattered to him!
   Todd forgot about his stupid tunnel idea. He went into a funk that barely lifted for his daughter, or Solara. When their toddler tugged on his growing horns, he had to fight a snarl.
   "I guess I have to pick a new name, huh?" he growled one day.
   Solara shifted their daughter on her lap. "It is tradition, yes, but you don't know who you're becoming yet. Best not to be hasty."
   He snorted. He hated the sound, but it made little Betsy laugh. His ears twitched. She giggled and reached up for one, but her arms were too short. Without thinking about it, he leaned down so she could feel his ears. He wasn't really as hard as he acted. Who could ignore such a sweet baby?
   Betsy gently petted his fur, fascinated. She'd noticed the change, of course, but hadn't been brave enough to ask Daddy to touch it. Not that she had words yet, but his face had been scary for a long time. Then again, even a day was a long time, to a baby.
   She patted his mane, gurgling and drooling a little. She was teething, and they hadn't found anything suitable for chewing yet. So she dribbled on her fist and babbled, happily smearing his beard with drool. A little got on an ear, which flicked it away. Betsy clapped and cooed, and petted her Daddy like the biggest stuffed animal ever.
   "At least she isn't scared of me," he rumbled.
   Solara shivered a little. He winced.
   "That wasn't fear," she murmured in his other ear.
  "Mm?"
   She batted her eyelashes at him. "My, what a deep voice you have."
   His ears perked up, eyes went wide. "Uhhh," was all that came out. She liked him like this?
   Todd hadn't understood why a gargoyle would date a dwarf, or a furgoyle with a giant, or any of the crazy combinations he'd seen strolling about this past year. He didn't know--none of them knew--that compatibility really was more than skin deep. In fact, same kin pairings were rare, because their dispositions were just too similar.
   To use horoscopes as an example, a Leo wouldn't date a Leo, unless they liked heated debates. They were both strong-willed people who didn't want to back down. Now pair a gentle soul with another gentle soul, and parenting becomes difficult, because who disciplines the children? No, you needed balance; complementary character.
   The existence of same kin pairs proved that they were more than their base traits, of course. But he'd sort of figured out the general vibe of the kin he'd seen around the Holds. What sort of kin, then, was he?
   He'd never really felt like any of the kin, so he'd been happy being human. He supposed becoming something new was no different, in that respect. But he wasn't a furry, for Pete's sake! How could he feel comfortable with a tail? And were his feet becoming... hooves? How was he supposed to wrap his head around that?

   He stared at them, idly clacking them together, while his daughter played with his fur.
   "Clack!" Betsy chirped.
   It was the first word she said. Funny, that. It was an onomatopoeia, more than an actual word, but he absently patted her head and said "Yes, sweetie, clack."
   And somehow, that became his name. He didn't know how, but it did. Instead of saying "dada", Betsy said "clack" whenever she wanted his attention.
   He did remember what Onnu said about names, but it hadn't quite sunk in that from the first time she called him Clack, it mattered less and less that he wasn't human anymore. The fear and, yes, loathing, just sort of... faded away.
   He stopped wearing shoes, got used to the way his legs rearranged themselves, and went from kissing Solara to nuzzling her. She especially liked when his nose whuffled in her ear. The change had been so gradual, she still saw him as Todd, just in a funny suit.
   She didn't care that he'd become the first minotaur in their little community.