08-30-2016, 12:41 AM
The little fox sat on the arm of a chair close to the alchemist, watching him work with its tail wrapped around it’s tiny paws. It’s intelligent eyes would look from the paper, to the sketching pencil, to Finn’s face, then back to the paper, observing every single minute detail possible.
The tick tocking of some contraption could be heard in the house, the only noise to break the silence. The fox watched him sketch down several plants that were familiar to it. When he glanced at it, it pulled its lips back and let a tongue hang out a little bit, an obvious attempt at a smile. It flicked an ear before its mouth stretched back in a yawn, a soft and high pitched whine was produced.
A few more moments passed, another ear flick, a tail twitch followed.
The little bird suddenly started to sing out, chirping and carrying on. Yellow-green eyes snap from the papers and the alchemist’s fingers up to the young red bird. Instinctively, the fox licked its lips. It was completely absorbed in watching the movements of that delightful fowl, how it moved, each feather shuffling back into place. The phoenix sat perched on the metal lamp that hung over the desk which lit the area the alchemist worked in.
Finneas seemed to pay no attention to either of them in this moment. Taking the opportunity, the fox darted its head forward, managing to catch a few red tail feathers between pearly white teeth. It pulled down, and the bird, panicking, gave a loud squawk and pulled away.
The birdie would live to chirp another day if it had anything to say about it!
With a sharp snort, the white fox stared at Finneas, three loose tail feathers hung from black lips and a slight pulse of magic could be felt if one paid attention.
Finn, having been rudely disrupted from his work by this scaff, turned to look at the fox. It gave a soft whine before dropping the feathers and pushing them towards his pale hand. Marvelously, the feathers did not cause the wooden desk or the parchment paper to catch fire. Cautious, he took the feathers in his hand, yet he found that he was not burned, nor were the fine hairs on the back of his hand even singed.
The fox lowered its head, resting its chin on the desk and laying its ears back. It stared up at him with a sort of pleading expression. He looked at the fox again, a soft smile on his face as he gave a quiet and contemplative, but pleased, ‘hmm’ towards this discovery. At this, the fox’s ears perked up.
Setting two of the three feathers aside, Finneas raised the last one to his face, studying it intently. He ran a finger along the little bristles that made up the body of the plumage. Holding the feather so close to his face, he could note that it gave off a unique type of smell. Not unpleasant, and somewhat strangely familiar, he brought it closer to his nose and drew in a deeper breath.
He got a nose full of sharp cinnamon, rosemary and some sort of mint. The scent was surprisingly strong, causing his sinuses to tingle and his eyes to smart. Squeezing his eyes shut, he threw his head into his hands and sneezed, a few of the lighter specimens he had collected on his trip earlier scattered across the desk.
Before he had the chance rub his face, a large cloud of mist appeared around the fox. The appearance of the mist was accompanied by the sound of a distant gong. After a few moments, and Finn’s hands attempting to bat it away, the mist cleared. The fox no longer sat on the arm of the chair. In fact, the white fox was nowhere to be seen or found. Where it once perched was now taken up by something else.
A woman.
A naked woman.
A naked white haired woman sat the wrong way in Finn’s chair, in one of the most ungraceful positions possible.
Her head was leaned back on the opposing chair arm, it was obvious that the transformation had left her unconscious. Her right arm hung limply over the chair arm, next to her head Her right leg was thrown over the arm of the chair, her left leg and left arm hanging off the front.
In her current position, she was incredibly indecent. The entirety of her slender form was displayed before her host, from her slim legs to the soft swells of her breasts, to her exposed love.
After a few seconds, and a soft groan, her head lifted. She blinked her thick white lashes a few times and raised a white eyebrow at Finn. Pink lips part, the sharp points of her canines peeking from within her mouth.
“... Ugh... What... What happened?”
The tick tocking of some contraption could be heard in the house, the only noise to break the silence. The fox watched him sketch down several plants that were familiar to it. When he glanced at it, it pulled its lips back and let a tongue hang out a little bit, an obvious attempt at a smile. It flicked an ear before its mouth stretched back in a yawn, a soft and high pitched whine was produced.
A few more moments passed, another ear flick, a tail twitch followed.
The little bird suddenly started to sing out, chirping and carrying on. Yellow-green eyes snap from the papers and the alchemist’s fingers up to the young red bird. Instinctively, the fox licked its lips. It was completely absorbed in watching the movements of that delightful fowl, how it moved, each feather shuffling back into place. The phoenix sat perched on the metal lamp that hung over the desk which lit the area the alchemist worked in.
Finneas seemed to pay no attention to either of them in this moment. Taking the opportunity, the fox darted its head forward, managing to catch a few red tail feathers between pearly white teeth. It pulled down, and the bird, panicking, gave a loud squawk and pulled away.
The birdie would live to chirp another day if it had anything to say about it!
With a sharp snort, the white fox stared at Finneas, three loose tail feathers hung from black lips and a slight pulse of magic could be felt if one paid attention.
Finn, having been rudely disrupted from his work by this scaff, turned to look at the fox. It gave a soft whine before dropping the feathers and pushing them towards his pale hand. Marvelously, the feathers did not cause the wooden desk or the parchment paper to catch fire. Cautious, he took the feathers in his hand, yet he found that he was not burned, nor were the fine hairs on the back of his hand even singed.
The fox lowered its head, resting its chin on the desk and laying its ears back. It stared up at him with a sort of pleading expression. He looked at the fox again, a soft smile on his face as he gave a quiet and contemplative, but pleased, ‘hmm’ towards this discovery. At this, the fox’s ears perked up.
Setting two of the three feathers aside, Finneas raised the last one to his face, studying it intently. He ran a finger along the little bristles that made up the body of the plumage. Holding the feather so close to his face, he could note that it gave off a unique type of smell. Not unpleasant, and somewhat strangely familiar, he brought it closer to his nose and drew in a deeper breath.
He got a nose full of sharp cinnamon, rosemary and some sort of mint. The scent was surprisingly strong, causing his sinuses to tingle and his eyes to smart. Squeezing his eyes shut, he threw his head into his hands and sneezed, a few of the lighter specimens he had collected on his trip earlier scattered across the desk.
Before he had the chance rub his face, a large cloud of mist appeared around the fox. The appearance of the mist was accompanied by the sound of a distant gong. After a few moments, and Finn’s hands attempting to bat it away, the mist cleared. The fox no longer sat on the arm of the chair. In fact, the white fox was nowhere to be seen or found. Where it once perched was now taken up by something else.
A woman.
A naked woman.
A naked white haired woman sat the wrong way in Finn’s chair, in one of the most ungraceful positions possible.
Her head was leaned back on the opposing chair arm, it was obvious that the transformation had left her unconscious. Her right arm hung limply over the chair arm, next to her head Her right leg was thrown over the arm of the chair, her left leg and left arm hanging off the front.
In her current position, she was incredibly indecent. The entirety of her slender form was displayed before her host, from her slim legs to the soft swells of her breasts, to her exposed love.
After a few seconds, and a soft groan, her head lifted. She blinked her thick white lashes a few times and raised a white eyebrow at Finn. Pink lips part, the sharp points of her canines peeking from within her mouth.
“... Ugh... What... What happened?”
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