Astro-Atlas

Crack. Pop. Agony isn’t new to me but damn did I wish I knew what the hell was happening to me. It’s magic. I know that much but what kind of magic does this to the wielder? My bones are breaking below my skin. I’m changing… or maybe changing back is the right way to put it. Kneeling on the ground, my arms are digging into the golden grassy soil below. My nails are cursed into claws. Gouging the dirt into chasms below the sensitive pads of my fingers. And…. Fur? Is that real fur? It’s coming off my skin in clumps but some of it just mists away into the air before it hits the ground. I can’t find it in me to be disgusted or curious. All I can do as my body breaks and rearranges itself is to distract myself with trying to figure this out. It’s been weeks of this. Waking up in the woods or fields covered in dirt and raw from the wind. At first it was all a blank. Black spots in my memory that I couldn’t fill no matter how I thought. But then I had impressions when I woke, of running