could coax Zephyr, the warm wind of spring, to arrive earlier, but it seemed wrong to change the season just to suit her needs.
Sadly, summer passed too quickly for her liking. Although she had spent much of her days outside gardening and occasionally hunting, it just hadn’t been enough time. She had watched as her new friends had become increasingly sluggish until finally, one day, they slept. Now she was alone. She didn’t dare to spend too much time with anyone. During the summer she had discouraged visitors to protect the hamadryads from the foolish actions of frightened people. Now, however, there was another reason to avoid human contact. Someone was bound to notice a very significant difference in her. And not just the fact that her deep summer tan had failed to lighten with the wane of summer or that she had a barely perceptible fuzz covering her in a soft suede that seemed to be getting darker as the weeks passed.
She had a tail.
She kept it discretely tucked into her pants to the best of her ability, but she was afraid that someone would notice if she moved or bent wrong. It was not that she expected that someone was always ogling her ass, but one never knew. Her tail was hard to miss and had grown in overnight while she’d been enjoying the most wonderfully erotic dream in which she was still in that cave on the mountain with her mate. It had been a surprise, and her screaming and snapping it around caused quite a bit of damage before she got control of it. It had taken days to learn how to hold her tail and when to tuck her tail in against her leg, but she quickly gained an appreciation for it.
For one, unlike a lion’s tail, which it resembled, it was prehensile. She was able to grip with it. After a few trial and error disasters, she appreciated having an extra “hand” to help her out. It was long and sinuous, tipped with the softest fluff that was longer than the length of her hand from wrist to fingertips. It was even longer and more luxurious than Silvas’s tail, and that privately sparked an odd sort of pride within her. She almost wished that he were around so she could show it off. Paired with the fact that her ears were developing long pointed tips at the ends, she simply no longer looked normal. She had all fall to get used to her new features, but with the onset of winter and the more apt people were to get cozy with each other and crowd in closer indoors, it made her all the warier in town or socializing.
Aside from wearing long, bulky coats to disguise any peculiar bulges in her pants, she kept her ears covered the best she could with hats or hoods on the rare occasions, such as today, when she ventured into town. It was uncomfortable, but a necessity. She had long become accustomed to the odd looks from other patrons of the market and tavern. She didn’t care what they thought of her so long as she got enough in trade with her barter to acquire the basic goods that she required. Even if she hadn’t lost her position at the tavern, she would have had to quit by now… No great hardship though, aside from the rations of food that she no longer had access to.
She frowned down at her bowl of stew. She hadn’t gotten anywhere near the trade credits she had hoped for the preserves and hides she brought to town. With supplies getting tighter, the value was reduced by half in trade credit. Soon she was going to have to kiss some of her luxuries like salt and sugar goodbye. She wondered if she could find a book on beekeeping at the open library.
“I’m telling you that I’m going to half to replant some fruit trees come spring. A blight took a good portion of my orchard this fall,” a rough voice groused behind her. Diana’s newly flexible ears turned beneath her hood toward the speaker with interest. “I’ve never seen anything like it. The fruit withered before we even had a chance to pick it. Nearly a quarter of the crop gone.”
His companion grunted, the silverware clinking as they ate.
“Must be the same shit that’s killing the trees in the woods near my place,” the other man said. “They just up and lost all their