In the Magic Forest

Hunter was not particularly fond of Portuguese forests. One never knew what one could encounter there: guerrillas, French, wild animals, Sir Arthur.

He'd ended up in this particular copse trying to find his horse, which bolted after throwing him and that there should have told him that something was deeply wrong, because Firebird would not just throw him.

He walked in the direction he'd seen her run, calling her name once in a while. Suddenly he saw something move in a clump of shrubs ahead of him.

'Firebird! It had better be you, you stupid horse!' He rushed towards the movement and then something fog-like and black slithered from under the branches, enveloping him.

***

Hunter did not know how much time passed until he finally woke up lying by the same clump of shrubs that apparently attacked him with black smoke or whatever that was. Except, he decided, neither the shrubs, or the grass or the trees looked quite the same. They were all greener somehow, brighter. There was an odd and not very pleasant feeling, that made Hunter shudder and snarl. Snarl?

'Oh, brilliant, I am a wolf,' he thought disgustedly as he looked down at what used to be his hands and were now fur-covered paws.

His head was hurting ever since morning. Herrero was not helpful with his rather strange behavour, being more and more skittish the further he was making him go. It had not been a long while ago, that Kenley had gone and bolted in that direction with his animal. He had not returned and even as they called for him, neither the Portuguese, nor the lad answered.

Worried that something had happened to him, when lo and behold , his own horse had come running back, looking terrified of something that he did not see and that had seemingly not harmed him, for he had no injuries to speak of that. Willoughby urged Herrero in that direction, his carbine at his hip, the sword raised.

With another nudge, forcefull this time he managed to make Herrero begin at a trot, then suddenly he had begun a gallop only to turn as if striking an invisible wall, not far from where the trees had become quite low and he ought to have halted anyway.

The sudden stop had caught Willoughby of guard however, and he was sent flying.. disappearing , being enveloped in the dark and...


++

He woke up with his pelisse tightened uncomfortably around his neck, some of his clothes had been strewn on the ground. The sword was still to his right so that he reached down to grip it... and thumped his.. it was not a hand, against it. He groaned and the sound was familiar to his ears only it was not exactly something he'd uttered himself. Perhaps in joke, yes, humans could do it fairly well, but not on accident. He shook his head. When had his hair grown this long?

He tensed, sensing something alive, not too far from him. Something that smelled of danger.

Hunter stretched and shook himself, trying to get a feeling for his new body. This wasn't so bad, he told himself, could've been turned into a snail. Unless of course, he was actually lying somewhere with a concussion, and this was all a dream.

He took a couple of tentative steps, then some more. No, definitely, no too bad. There was strength and agility in this body that just wasn't possible in a human. He swiped his tongue over his teeth. 'My, what large teeth you have,' he thought to himself and chuckled, which came out as an odd hacking noise.

He sighed and then it hit him. The smells. Everything smelled. And there was a strange but familiar scent in the air, one he was pretty sure he never smelled before, but his wolf brain told him it was something or rather someone he knew. He patted in the direction, from where the smell was coming, listening carefully. Now that he concentrated there was definitely rustling sounds being made by someone not too far from him.

It was impossible. He could barely get to his feet and he was standing not on his legs but on his hands as well. Technically he could no longer call them hands, as they were formed quite like the front legs of an animal, considering the hoof, a horse.

He leaned his head forward trying to push himself up. Harder to do, when his limbs worked differently than he was used to. It did not help that the earth gave under him .. or rather that something that was pointy and had been resting against it, had, once weight was transferred to it, simply sunk in.

Brilliant. Bloody brilliant. Now he had his head stuck because the sharp pointy end which was not even a sword, had decided to sink in. He kicked out with his back leg , his tail flicking about angrily. There was a predator out there, he sensed him, familiar smelling predator and he was not able to stand and fight against it!

His third pair of limbs - hey, horses did not have those! - flapped with vigour which made him at the very least, kneel at the front, stand at the back and yank back to free his head.

When Hunter spied the creature he'd smelled, he had to sit down on his haunches. Wolves they were normal. Sort of. Unicorns weren't. Or rather a winged horse. Well, whatever. He'll deal with local nomenclature later.

The horse was clearly having trouble standing up and it looked nothing short of hilarious. So Hunter did the only logical thing and laughed. As much as a wolf could laugh.

"It's NOT funny." He did not need to speak to make himself be understood. Which was just as well, because the first time he had tried to, the noise he made was much more horse like. He pulled again. He was about to suggest to the wolf - who smelled familiar, did not look anything like he'd seen before other than being a wolf laughing - that he was to help him, if he meant to, or to scram. Just at that moment however earth gave and released his horn so that the poor creature suddenly found himself on his bum, then his back, wings flapping as they tried to catch their balance again. "OW..."

He rolled right onto one of his wings, and if horses could curse by the sounds they made, this was what he had done when struggling to step off of that one wing and get relatively gracefully back to his feet.

Talking. Winged. Horses. With Horns. This day could not get any weirder. He actually did stop laughing, since the voice sounded familiar, but he was struggling to place it. He patted over to the horse, trying to look friendly and non-threatening and smelled at it. It smelled like a horse. Actually it smelled like a lot of horses. He shook his head and looked up at the creature, hoping it would say something else.

"..What ..who are you? Just an odd laughing wolf?" Hunter was given a prompt smack on the nose with the tail. Willoughby shook his head a bit, made a few adjustments and finally learned how to fold his wings so that they did not bring him off balance and they looked nicely tucked in.

"...This is impossible." He bit a hold at his pelisse, still clinging to his neck and tugged on it a little, trying to ease it's tight hold. Of course the pelisse had been made to tie around his shoulders and over one and not around a horse's neck. "...Wait.. this is just a dream.. isn't it?...trust Kenley to...."

Hunter snorted and jumped, snarling. Stupid horses and their stupid tails and where, come to think of that, was Firebird? He watched the horse struggle with something wrapped around it's neck and then it clicked. It was Willoughby! This time the wolf actually rolled on the ground and howled with laughter.

Willoughby glared at the wolf, snorting at him and giving the rolling form a good nudge with his horn. "I'll stomp you into the ground if you laugh one more time!!" He flicked his tail irritably. It was bad enough that he was stark naked ... fine a horse, but he was still naked, a horse and standing here without any explanation whatsoever neither at how this was possible nor at how to make it turn back. He could not exactly return to the camp looking like this. If they did not stare at his strange point on the head and his wings at the back, they'd saddle him and.... that was just not on!

Hunter sprang up to his feet and snapped his teeth at Willoughby trying to get him to calm down. If only he could talk! Why could Willoughby talk and he couldn't? He groaned and turned in place several times trying to think of what to do.

"..If you are actually smart..." He paused studying the wolf sceptically. He did behave differently than other wolves. Wolves did not laugh or show this amount of 'intelligence' and understanding. At least , he hoped they did not. "...Alright, .. .if you are smart and you can't talk.. or do you refuse to?" He took a few steps back, shaky but more certain than before. "...can you write?....." He rolled his eyes. "Talking to a wolf.... that's nuts... like he'd know what I mean to say anyway.... this is just crazy. ."

'Well, talking to a horse isn't exactly my idea of intelligent conversation,' said Hunter, but of course no words came out, just snarls and yaps. This was so frustrating!

He waved a paw at Willoughby wanting him to shut up so he could think in silence for a while. There had to be a way around this. Then it struck him. Willoughby wasn't just a normal horse, he was a magical horse and it stood to reason that he wasn't just a wolf. And then only magical wolf Hunter could think of was a werewolf. So if he is right than it should mean that he can turn back into a human.

Hunter concentrated. He imagined himself turning into a human. Then he concentrated harder and nothing happened.

"..If you need to take a dump... you could do it somewhere less in the open, thank you very much." Well, to Willoughby that amount of concentration that Hunter was trying to go through , did look like he was trying to relieve himself right there.

He tried to sit. Of course horses were not meant to sit like dogs, but he was damned if he would stand like that for the rest of his life. He could lie down of course, but rolling onto his wings again did not sound appealing. "So?"

'So I'm going to kill you for being so obtuse,' snarled Hunter and the wolf took a few running steps and then jumped, aiming it's claws and teeth for the horse's neck. Except it wasn't a horse, it was Willoughby, someone he knew. And he couldn't kill him! Hunter stamped down hard on his wolf part and suddenly turned, in mid jump, landing on Willoughby as man, rather than a wolf.

Willoughby's ears flattened when he saw the wolf run at him, he was still seated on his hind legs so getting up fast was out of the question. Just as he was about to believe himself dead, his wings flapping hard enough to send a few smaller stones flying and a good draft at whoever would have appeared behind the wolf, he felt something solid, naked and furrless come smack against his neck and shoulders. His feet stomped on the ground, his voice that of a startled horse.

He had missed Hunter's toes by inches and... stared at the man, butt naked plastered against his front. "What on.....Hunter? Sir?!" He had been so stunned that it had not come to him to address him as an officer sooner.

"Sir, where are your clothes?!.. You didn't..." He was the wolf, the wolf was Hunter! And he was quite as bare as the day he was born.

Hunter detached himself from Willoughby with as much dignity as he could. 'If I knew where my clothes were, would I not be wearing them right now, Willoughby?' Said Hunter acidly. 'Whatever happened to your clothes,' he pointed at the pelisse hanging off Willoughby's neck. 'must have happened to mine as well.' Hunter walked over to the pile of clothes on the ground. 'You won't mind if I borrow these?' He found a pair of breeches amongst the pile and started trying to pull them on. He was just going to act like it was normal for him to walk around naked. Having just been a wolf. And that it was perfectly normal to be talking to a horse. Who was actually Willoughby.

"..I can't exactly fit into them at the moment , can I, sir?" Willoughby stood again. He did not look at Hunter when he went to the pile and kept his gaze more on the ground. He leaned over, nearly bit at the grass when he made a disgusted face. He was NOT going to eat like a horse even if he was one at the moment!

"...How did you manage to get yourself turned back?" He asked instead. He had hoped that whatever made Hunter change, would work for him as well. "We can't exactly returned to camp looking like this...well I can't. You'll just get dressed.. "

The breeches were definitely too short for him, but least they were only a bit too tight. The shirt could have been bigger. Well, it was better than nothing.

'I am not sure how it happened, Willoughby. I think... I think I realised that I did not want to kill you and that made me turn back. It was odd. It was like I had to remember that I was human and that I wanted to be human.' Hunter sighed and took a good look at Willoughby.

'Well, trust a cavalryman to turn into a flying unicorn.' He smirked suddenly. 'I wonder, does that mean that you will magically know who is a virgin?'

"......doesn't work then...." He did not want to kill Hunter in the first place and thinking himself human did not change his shape at all. He was still very much horse like. He frowned. He tried again. Nothing. As horsey as he could be. He flicked his tail irritably. "..I am not going to even try seeing if I can sense that, sir.." Unless it was an order. "Shall we find your mount so that our progress becomes quicker." He shook his wings out and folded them again.

"Hopefully she had not turned into a human..." Because he really did not want to be the only horse around!

Hunter nodded. 'Why don't we walk in the direction of the camp? I hope my horse found its common sense and returned that way. And yes I know you can't exactly be seen like this, but I have a very bad feeling that the camp may not be actually there.' He frowned. 'You did notice that the forest looks odd?'

"I did see that Herrero was quite nervous about it.. and refused to go here. Kenley disappeared somewhere around here as well.. though I hope he is well." He turned to walk alongside Hunter. He was still finding his feet, so that he had often knocked his front against a root or stone. "..I can't begin to imagine how this is all possible, sir. And still do hope that it is a dream, .." He smiled faintly. "For it would make more sense than these.." He stretched his wings a little. They were the silent sort, made and shaped as wings of owls, not that it made them any less prominent and obvious.

"Then whose dream is it then, Willoughby? Because if it is dream that person ought to wake up!' Hunter cursed as he stepped on a thorn and tried to lengthen his stride to keep up with Willoughby. There were advantages to being a wolf, except for the whole 'Can't talk, want to kill people' thing.

"If it were mine.. I.. had tried to wake a couple of times now, and it did not work.. if it was yours, sir..." He would wonder about the man's sanity. Who in their right mind would dream up a cavalry man as a magical, talking horse?

"...Are you alright sir?" He slowed down again, timing his steps with Hunter's and then making them shorter, since it seemed the little human legs just could not keep with the longer stride of a horse.

'Yes, fine, Willoughby,' said Hunter and tried to keep up. They walked in silence for a while. After about half an hour, maybe less they came to the place where the camp should have been, except just as Hunter had feared, it wasn't there. What was there, was a woman with very long black hair. She was also very naked. And very angry. The moment she saw Hunter she walked up to him and slapped him across the face hard.

'You! You!' She shouted. 'You always, always get us intro trouble!' Hunter took a step back, blinking in confusion.

'Do I know you, ma'am?' He stammered and tried not to look at her.