Destined Fur More

The ComiCon of Shape-Shifting

Alright, people. Let me summarize my life in the past week:

1- I was adopted.

2- My family actually does hate me.

3- I'm stranded in the wonderful Alaskan tundra of Holy Cross with an old guy that'll probably be me thirty years from now and a totally sexy teenage dude name Teague, who is currently knocked out on the couch next to me.

4- I. Am. A. Shape. Shifter. Kidding? Yeah, I wish.

5- Vampires exist, but I mean, shit, if I can change into a fucking cat, why can't the undead come back to life and drink blood?

6- Fuck… do I even want to wake up or was I already asleep?

"Fisher, you make a terrible sleeping person." Graham informed me, "We still have a few things to go over before Teague wakes up. And after he does, he's not leaving. Believe me; I've known him for all of his nineteen years."

Groaning melodramatically, I opened one eye. "Please tell me everything that I've just experienced is really just one, huge, elaborate prank made to force me to realize what a big, idiotic human being I am."

Cracker cleared his throat, "I would… but you're not a human being."

I groaned even louder, rolling over on the couch and hiking the blanket up far past my head. "Then I'm dreaming."

"No."

"Comatose?"

"No."

"Dead?"

"NO."

"Not even a little?"

"NO, FISHER." Cracker boomed, "This is real and you need to accept it."

Slamming my eyes shut and rolling back over, and taking a huge inward breath, I asked, "What more is there to know?" I murmured in a tone familiar to me—defeat. "I can never go back to the only place I called home, not even if I was a human being. My life has been shit since before I remember. I have no family. I have no money. I have nothing, and you say I need to accept it? I haven't even had the chance the ACCEPT what was going on before, let alone NOW." I wailed, wallowing in the abyss of self-pity I had. Tears were in my eyes, "Just give me the fucking time to process I won't be HUMAN for the rest of my life, okay?" My voice cracker, "Don't expect it to just click in my head that—"

Cracker cut me off. "Fisher… Listen, I'm… Fisher, I'm SORRY."

He hissed the word out, as if it physically pained him to say it. His now hazel eyes looked my right into me. "I have no clue what your life was like before now. That's all I know is they sure as hell did not treat you right. No normal, good-hearted people would ever raise a child so doubtful in themselves." HE ran a hand through his grey-speckled cinnamon hair, "God, you're worse than me in the bitter department."

I sniffed, wiping out the baby tears in my eyes and sitting up. "Thanks." I muttered sarcastically, then continued on, "So, what else do I need to know?"

Cracker shot me a bewildered look, "Didn't you just say you needed time?"

Rolling my head around on my shoulders to wake up my legs, I shrugged. "Yeah? It's been a minute or two. That's time."

Once again, he threw an utterly flustered look. "B-but… I though you meant a few days, or maybe—"

I lifted my lips, "Naw, once I get a good cry in, it's all good." I said, waving him off, "I'm a go-with-the-flow kind of shape-shifter,"