The tense moment passed. Our ragged breaths, our breaths, slowly began to settle. Little by little, control returned to our lungs, and finally the pressure we felt above our bodies—an invisible pressure that causes pure terror—began to dissipate.
I looked out the window again, no longer out of fear, but out of curiosity and vigilance.
I needed to know if the animals had started their normal lives again.
Indeed, most of the animals and insects began to move freely again, although with a clear and measured caution.
A clear fear, like a bitter residue, still pulsed within them.
The indelible mark that the King Bird's presence had left etched in their instincts made them feel so overwhelmed that they simply didn't dare to move with ease.
They all shared the same fear: that at any moment the beast would reappear and kill them all, devouring them without mercy or doubt.
After those thoughts crossed my mind, I forced myself to focus on something much more urgent. Something that couldn't wait. The cub was here, in our house. That, inevitably, was a bad omen.
His mother was alone, worried at this very moment, and who knows what level of desperation she might reach and what madness she might commit looking for her baby.
Or worse, much worse: his mother could be dead. No, I don't want to even consider that possibility, but it's there, crouching in a corner of my mind.
It's only a possibility, yes, but one I don't wish to carry on my conscience.
If she truly is gone, if she has died, then one of our only friends on this planet will have been extinguished. She will have left us. I don't want to imagine how bad Nala would feel.
How helpless and furious she could become.
And for that very reason, the first thing I do is get on my knees. They—Nala and the little one—were still sitting there on the floor. Nala gently comforted the cub, stroking his back with a tenderness that contrasted with the tension in her muscles, making sure he calmed down.
And he had already calmed down considerably.
He had lost that trembling disorientation of the first few minutes, and was now in a state of fragile tranquility, like a lake after a storm.
However, he still moved his little eyes from side to side with unease.
Naturally, he was looking for his mother.
I approached as much as possible, but without invading his personal space too much, so that he could notice me and look at me comfortably.
—Hello, little one —I said in a low voice—. Do you know where your mom is? Or when did you wander away from her?
The little one stared at me, confused. His three eyes blinked in unison, but he didn't seem to understand my words.
He didn't understand human language.
Quickly, I stood up and went for the gem, which was stored in our room, mine and Nala's.
I took it with steady hands and returned to them.
—Gem —I said, holding it in front of me—, I need you to activate a telepathic connection between the little cub and me.
The gem began to shine intensely, and I could hear that familiar voice I had grown quite accustomed to.
Initiating mental, psychic-telepathic connection with specimen: three-eyed cub.
Immediately, a flash of warm light invaded my body and extended towards the little one. He was startled for a moment, surprised by the sudden glow enveloping his fur. However, the radiance quickly passed through him, and in a matter of seconds, both the cub and I were mentally connected.
Now we were able to understand each other.
—Little one —I asked softly, but with contained urgency—, do you know where your mother is? Where did you separate from her? Did something happen? Were you attacked?
The little cub looked at me, but this time there was no confusion in his eyes. He was in shock, as if he couldn't comprehend or believe that at this moment I was talking to him, and that he was able to understand every one of my words.
—Mom… she went into the cave, into the house —he said, his little voice trembling and innocent—. But I went out. I wanted to play outside. I didn't know there was something bad outside. So I came here… to look for Nala. I got lost while exploring and now I want to be with mom.
Nala, although she didn't precisely understand what he was telling me—the sounds coming from his snout were just little growls and babbles—watched the scene attentively.
I, through the connection, could hear his thoughts and growls translated into clear words, although I didn't know if it was an instinctive matter of the gem or simply an advanced function. (When I spoke with the mother bear before, it was only telepathically. It doesn't surprise me to know the gem can also translate vocal sounds.)
It wasn't the time to think about that kind of thing.
What had to be done was to immediately go look for this little one's mother. Because I wouldn't tolerate her being alone.
She couldn't have died because of all this.
And in case she truly had passed away, that only meant one thing: I would have to speed up the process to hunt/kill the King Bird. I couldn't allow such a dangerous threat to continue existing, especially if, because of it, I had lost a friend.
Both mine and Nala's.
With that determination burning in my chest, I stood up and asked him:
—Which cave do you mean? The house where you and your mom live?
—Yes —he replied.
I quickly recalled the location. I left the house with a firm step.
—Where are you going? —Nala asked, her voice tinged with concern.
—I'm going to look for this little one's mother —I replied without stopping.
—I'd like to go with you —she said, slightly straightening up.
—No —I was blunt, but I tried to soften my tone—. You're pregnant. You have to stay home. Take care of the cub.
She made a slightly annoyed expression, a small pout of frustration, but nodded.
—Okay. I will.
And she sat back down, gently pressing the cub between her breasts, that place he had adopted as his favorite, considering the comfort and warmth it provided him.
I simply smiled, just a fleeting gesture, and kept walking towards the door.
Once opened, I could feel that the air was, so to speak, more stable compared to before. The violent flow that had previously lashed against the door, which I had grown accustomed to, was no longer there.
Which meant that either my brain at this moment wasn't perceiving it, or the mere presence of that King Bird was so imposing that it even made the wind submit. (Or perhaps it was simply a matter of something more mundane or earthly, and I was overthinking it, as I tended to do.)
In any case, there was no time for rambling.
I let out a deep sigh, filled myself with determination, and began walking towards where I remembered the cave where we first saw the three-eyed mother bear was.
As I moved away from the house, my pace went from a gentle trot to an extremely fast run. I tried to cover as much distance in the shortest possible time. My legs, driven by a mix of adrenaline and contained fear, devoured the terrain.
Along the way, I couldn't help but think and beg in my mind: please, let the mother bear still be alive. I didn't want to see Nala depressed. Depression could even affect the babies, cause personality changes, provoke madness, or worse, a void from which she might never return.
And the mere thought of imagining Nala living with that loss, with her friend torn from her side, hurt me.
So I needed, no matter what, to find the mother bear alive. If necessary—and I sincerely hoped it wasn't—the gem could revive her. That gave me a small glimmer of hope.
Not much time passed until I reached the cave, but I had to make my way through trees, bushes, and fallen branches, dodging insects and different types of lizards that even tried to attack me. (I even saw a fat variant of the crimson lizards, blue in color, looking plump and delicious.)
Those that got in my way, I killed without any doubt or remorse, with precise and lethal blows. I could still hear the echo of their roars before dying, the torn scream, the wet sound of their blood and flesh being pierced by my claws. And although I felt the small temptation to take a piece and eat it right there—instinct, always messing things up—the best thing was to simply ignore that impulse and keep going.
I couldn't let myself be carried away. I had to find her.
I had to find the three-eyed mother bear, or save her if she was in life-or-death danger. That's another possibility.
Little by little, once I reached the cave, I realized she wasn't there. But I could see the marks of her steps on the ground. Strong, deep steps, charged with desperate fury and immense concern.
She probably wasn't with the little one, yes, but she was furious against whatever could have taken him away, or so I think she thinks.
These steps confirmed to me, or at least drastically increased the probability, that she was still alive. I couldn't help but feel slightly excited, but I was also struck by a doubt: when would she have left? Could she have gone very far?
Considering the speed and strength she possessed, which should be, by far, superior to the Earth bears I remembered—they could move at forty or fifty kilometers per hour, or perhaps less, I don't recall precisely—she could be moving at even two hundred kilometers per hour, driven by the need to find her little one.
I didn't waste time. I determined a direction following the marks and tracks, and after a brief search, I came across an evident path: a trail of destroyed trees, trunks split as if they were twigs, and completely flattened bushes.
It was obvious, the clearest path she had created using her size and her immense strength.
I began to run in that direction, trying to keep a cold, serene face, even though inside I was deeply worried.
And as I ran, I asked myself why I was doing all this.
Of course, I did it for her, for the mother bear, but I also did it for myself.
Not just out of gratitude or duty. It was because, honestly, I had liked the mother bear from the start. I was deeply grateful for everything she had done for us, for having helped Nala.
I considered her a friend.
Using only Nala as an excuse to justify my action would be reducing her to something she is not: she is a person, an intelligent and complex being.
Or rather, a person appreciated by us.
And that was enough.
I felt my heart beat with almost painful force as I ran, heading in the direction where, by the way, the serpent king had originally been heading.
I couldn't help but wonder if there was something important over there, something that especially attracted beasts. Perhaps a hunting territory, perhaps a nesting place.
Who knows.
The important thing now was to keep going. I needed to get there. I needed to achieve my goal.
I heard some roars in the distance, but they didn't sound like hers. It must be another animal.
Time passed—I don't know how much, I only know I ran until my lungs burned—and, thanks to something I choose to believe in, I found her.
Her body showed no visible wounds, but her state was one of such deep concern that it hurt to see her.
She was roaring and shaking her immense body from side to side, and from a distance, those sounds were so different from the ones I knew from her that for a second, I thought it was another animal.
But no.
It was her.
I had arrived.
She was in what seemed to be a valley without trees, only tall grass growing everywhere. Green fields, extensive and undulating, stretched to the horizon. The grass wasn't too tall, which implied the existence of animals that consumed large amounts of grass in this valley.
I walked quickly towards her, leaving the protection of the forest trees and entering the open plain.
The mother bear was searching worriedly for her little one, sniffing the ground and raising her head with hope.
Perhaps she suspected he might be here, or perhaps there was something that had brought him to this place.
Who knows?
The important thing was that she was there.
I quickened my pace. She saw me and recognized me instantly. Her eyes opened wide, and large amounts of air entered and left her lungs in deep gasps.
She stared at me, her pupils dilated, almost about to pop out of their orbits, bloodshot from tension and suppressed tears.
—ADONAI! —she roared, her mental voice piercing me with the force of a gale—. Where is he? Is he in your house? My baby, my cub!
—Yes —I replied, with a smile I couldn't contain—. He's there, with us. He's fine.
An expression of relief so immense, so pure, formed on her face. A sweet smile, or something very similar, slowly formed between her jaws.
—Thank you, thank you very much, Adonai —she said, and in her words traveled all the weight of her gratitude.
She let out a sigh of relief, and upon finding her, happiness reached my heart and slowly invaded my entire body, making me feel slightly warm inside. But I kept calm on my face.
—Yes, he's with us, at home —I said, with a serene but firm voice—. Nala is taking care of him, don't worry. Now the most important thing is that we return together.
She let out a sigh of relief very similar to mine. Perhaps she was copying the gesture I had made, or perhaps she already had something similar among the members of her species.
In any case, the important thing was that the bad part was over. Now we could return together, and she could go to be with her little one.
I couldn't help but ask her why he had wandered off, and how it had happened.
We both began to walk, to calm ourselves a little.
She answered my two questions honestly. To the first, she simply said that he really likes to explore—just as he himself had confirmed to me earlier, as he had told me—. And to the second question, it was something more elaborate: she had been distracted for a few seconds, turned around, and before she realized it, he had already left the house.
Since he doesn't have instincts as developed as hers, he simply wasn't able to perceive the warning signs before the giant bird appeared.
It wasn't until it was too late.
This made me reflect, realizing that, indeed, not all animals have ultra-developed survival instincts or sufficient experience.
Obviously, the little cub was the second case. I think his instinct had warned him at some point about what was happening, but he wasn't able to understand it in time.
His faculties weren't yet fully developed, nor did he have the necessary experience to know how to interpret those signals.
—Good —I said, changing the tone—. How about we go home?
She calmly nodded, and together we began to walk towards my home.
However, things don't tend to go well after a moment of crisis or a great disaster.
And as if life itself, the forest, or nature as a whole, didn't want us to return to our homes so quickly, both she and I saw how in the distance what seemed like a giant cloud of dust began to form.
Slowly, we felt a vibration spreading through the ground, increasingly stronger, deeper, and more threatening than it should be.
She and I looked in that direction. In an instant, we felt nervous and alerted.
We prepared to flee or attack.
We felt our hearts begin to beat faster and faster.
It was obvious: that which was coming towards us, those dust clouds forming in the distance, was something very, very dangerous.
As they got closer, I could notice figures with shapes similar to bulls from planet Earth, only much larger. Perhaps twice, even three times as big. They had four giant horns curving forward like natural spears, and one huge eye, no, rather two pairs of eyes for each member of this species.
There seemed to be males and females among them, all running in the same direction, in a compact and terrifying mass.
A stampede.
That was the first thing that came to my mind.
I could immediately notice how tension settled and stress increased in the body of the three-eyed mother bear.
She stared at me, her eyes widened by contained panic.
—We have to go, quickly —she said, with an urgent tone of voice, alerting me to the danger with those direct words.
—Yes, let's go —I replied, and we began to run quickly towards the forest entrance.
However, I couldn't help but notice that we were considerably farther than I expected from the safety of the trees.
While she and I were talking, we had begun to walk calmly towards the top of a hill.
That was our grave mistake. We strayed so far from the forest that we now found ourselves in a situation of absolute danger.
Our situation was critical. We both walked—and now ran—extremely fast, and in the same way we should quickly return to shelter.
However, things don't always tend to go well.
She was extremely tired. The energy she had gained from stress and the intense search for her little one had already run out.
So she was no longer precisely as energized as before.
I noticed this, and I also filtered a strong sense of worry.
In less than what seemed like a few seconds, that stampede of giant four-horned bulls was already approaching us.
To the point where I could even see their faces with total and absolute clarity.
The mother bear looked at me, in a state of high alert. I looked at her too. Obviously, neither of us felt overwhelming fear—she and I probably have the capacity and strength enough to fight them and, in the worst case, massacre them—but there was also the possibility that this wasn't possible.
There were too many.
Better, for now, was simply to run at high speeds and make sure that, under no circumstances, they reached where we were.
Not much time passed until we finally reached the forest entrance.
However, it was our grave mistake to think that the forest would be an obstacle for them.
For they kept running, completely ignoring the giant trees of the place and the possible opposition they might offer.
Their massive bodies simply destroyed the trunks in their path, turning centuries-old wood into splinters.
So I simply stopped, realizing that we had to find a way to stop them or, at least, divert them.
Because the direction we were running in would inevitably end up affecting our homes.
The mother bear also stopped, realizing the same small detail.
—We have to divert them —I told her.
—Yes, we have to —she replied—. And lead them in a direction where they don't harm our family.
I nodded, feeling completely in agreement with her.
We both moved quickly, changing course northward, where you could see giant mountains of blue, green (due to vegetation, probably), and violet colors rising and even seeming to pierce the sky.
Normally I didn't look in that direction, since being typically in the forest, the trees obstructed my view. But now, being back in the valley, I noticed that incredible view.
Now those places were where we had to go, quickly.
I could hear the sound of the giant bulls approaching, increasingly louder, more thunderous.
The sense of urgency, both on her part and mine, increased to the point where we simply had to heed it.
She and I ran quickly northward, with the obvious and main goal of arriving, of finding a place to hide or, simply, run and resist long enough for them to stop, or stay, or find the place they supposedly wanted to go.
Not much time passed before she and I—the mother bear and I—had covered a great distance.
She had recovered considerably, her breathing more controlled, her steps firmer.
I couldn't help but wonder if it would have been a good idea to head south instead of north, because heading north we were still on the outskirts of the forest—inside, yes, but on the margins—and this presented us with some obstacles.
There were a large number of fallen logs, thick bushes, and animals fleeing in all directions, presenting impediments when running.
She and I came to the conclusion that, no matter what, we had to return to the valley, to the prairies that extended here next to it, which occupied the same amount of distance and space as the forest itself.
However, that would also remove the impediments for the four-horned bulls.
As we ran, she and I together looked back. The disaster caused by the giant four-horned bulls was simply enormous. They swept away everything in their path, crushing it all with their massive hooves.
I didn't know precisely why they were following us now.
Perhaps we two were their original targets, or perhaps there was simply something between us that attracted their attention enough. (The gem?)
It wasn't time for that kind of question.
It was time to run as fast as possible, to literally fly over the earth, and make sure these beings never, ever reached where our families were.
We kept running and running. And despite the fact that we were panting, despite the fact that we could barely breathe, we kept running and running. We kept going and going.
Millimeter after millimeter.
Centimeter after centimeter.
Meter after meter.
Kilometer after kilometer.
Until we finally got far enough.
We were near the mountains, and for the first time I realized the true magnitude of these. They were simply enormous. A hundred times, tens, if not hundreds of times larger than any mountain on planet Earth, including, obviously, the tallest ones.
We were currently near one especially small compared to its sisters, but still colossal. On it there was a "crack"—in quotation marks, because it was literally a giant opening extending upward like a scar in the stone—and it could easily house both her and me. The mother bear and I could fit inside there.
It was big enough for us, but small enough that the stampede of those giant four-horned bulls couldn't follow us.
She and I looked at each other. We didn't even take a second to realize that this was the place we needed to be. We had a great advantage compared to the giant four-horned bulls, and quickly she was the first to go in.
I was next.
I could notice that the place was a little narrow for her—her wide body brushed against the stone walls—but more than enough to allow movement. I simply slipped in without problems. Not much time passed until we could finally hear the strong sound caused by the giant bulls' hooves as they galloped.
clatter-clatter, clatter-clatter, clatter-clatter
I couldn't help but close my eyes and beg to any God, or entity that might be listening to me, that please these beings wouldn't be stupid enough to charge against the mountain.
Although they probably weren't capable of destroying it, they could cause large rocks to fall or crack, possibly blocking our passage.
And I don't know if I could push them.
And yet, thanks to something I choose to believe in, this didn't happen to us.
We could notice, through the small crack, the exact moment when the bulls swerved at the last instant, avoiding the mountain and heading again in the same direction I had had to go to look for the mother bear. That is, westward.
This made me feel immense joy, and also a great amount of relief. I could also notice the deep sigh from the three-eyed mother bear, who simply pressed slightly against me in a affectionate and pleasant way, as if she wanted to say: "It seems we got through this bad moment, and we survived."
I simply smiled.
Slowly, we both began to come out. For a second, also for a second, a slightly inappropriate thought came to my mind: what would the mother bear look like in a humanoid form? It was an innocent thought, and nothing special. But I could notice a faint hum in my… in my shorts, which I'm still wearing—it was one of the first things I put on the moment I woke up in the morning—. The hum I felt came precisely from the same pocket where I had the gem.
And a blinding glow enveloped me, and clung tightly to the three-eyed mother bear.
Quickly, I realized what was going to happen.
**
The transformation was happening. My eyes opened wide, my pupils dilated, and for a second, I even felt the blood drain from my face. The situation was, well, impressive.
Something that, honestly, I didn't expect in the slightest to happen, and yet was occurring right in front of me.
I could hear several roars escaping the three-eyed mother bear's mouth. She began to suffer and change both in size and shape before my eyes.
Not even thirty seconds passed until the blinding light that enveloped both her and me dispersed in the air, thus revealing a beautiful brown body.
Long dark hair reaching below her thighs. Giant, maternal breasts appeared before me, with soft brown nipples. I quickly looked up and saw a beautiful face with sharp but kind eyes, and prominent, well-developed fangs peeking out in a smile that didn't seem precisely very calm. Thick lips, a slight elegance in her bearing.
The color of her eyes was a beautiful green, and the tone of her skin was a dark brown, like wet earth after rain.
She had narrow shoulders, a narrow waist, wide hips, and, from what I could see, quite muscular and striking thighs. Her whole body was muscular, voluminous, and prominent.
A very sexy body that couldn't help but make me swallow heavily.
However, I quickly turned around and stood looking out of the crack.
—What? What just happened? —I heard her voice, now human, trembling and confused.
—I don't know —I said, trying to hide my own confusion. But the reality was something that couldn't be hidden, and even more so with lies. I had to tell the truth, no matter how much I didn't want to—. I think I transformed you into this form by accident —I told her while keeping my back to her.
—You did what to me? Why did you do it? —she asked me, her tone mixing disbelief and a hint of accusation.
—I didn't do it on purpose, it was… it was this thing —I said as I extended my hand back, holding the gem.
She stood looking at the small stone in my hands. To her, it was a small stone, of quite strange and unknown color and shape, but still pretty.
—How is it possible that that did this to me? —she asked, and then she brought her hand to her neck, wondering how it was that she could now speak, articulate words, communicate as she was doing—. I… I don't know —I replied—. I just woke up one day with this thing, which does many more things than I'm almost incapable of understanding.
She nodded slowly.
—I don't sense that you're lying to me —she said.
—Because I'm not —I replied, in a slightly higher tone than usual, born of my nervousness.
She nodded again, although obviously she wasn't able to see it, but could hear the movement.
—I understand —she said—. Well, I think the best thing will be for me to adapt to this form, although it bothers me. It's weird, and very uncomfortable. And I feel cold.
I quickly began to think that I must, no matter what, find her clothes as soon as possible so she could cover herself.
Not only because she felt uncomfortable, but because, well, a certain part of me also felt uncomfortably comfortable in a different way.
I left the cave in a hurry, but not before making sure there was no more danger outside. I didn't want those giant four-horned bulls to suddenly appear.
She also came out shortly after, once we confirmed there was no more danger.
I turned around and saw her, but this time I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her eyes. She stared back at mine, surely wondering about the reasons for the changes in her body.
I just scratched the back of my neck with some nervousness, feeling quite bad for her.
—I'm sorry —I said.
—Why? —she asked, her tone of voice now maternal and pleasant despite everything.
—For transforming you by accident —I replied.
—Oh, no… I don't mind much —she said—. As long as I'm alive, which is the most important thing, and I can be with my baby.
But then, suddenly, she let out an extremely loud gasp. She brought her hands to her face and her eyes filled with panic.
—How would he react if he saw me like this? —she exclaimed—. What if he gets scared, if he doesn't want to be with me?
I couldn't help but feel a great amount of nervousness at that possibility.
—I think we should try to return you to your original form —I proposed.
—Yes, that would be best! —she said urgently, clearly alarmed.
So I simply nodded, took the gem in my hands, and asked it, please, to do me that favor.
—Please, Gem, return her to her original form.
But the gem didn't glow. It did nothing. Instead, a familiar voice resonated in my mind:
"Once a change of this level has been made, it is difficult to revert to the previous form. Unfortunately, the reversal option does not currently exist, dear user. We deeply regret the inconvenience."
SON OF A BITCH. I thought, kindly.
After hearing that metallic female voice I had grown accustomed to. I couldn't help but want to squeeze the gem tightly and destroy it, but I knew that was physically impossible.
The gem was made of some indestructible material, so no matter how hard I squeezed it.
But that wasn't the important thing at this moment. The important thing was the mother bear, who had also heard this and stood looking at me with a dismayed and angry look.
—Can't you return me to my normal form? —she asked, her voice broken—. And what's going to happen to my baby now? He's not going to want to be with me.
—I… I don't know —I admitted—. We'll have to find a way to solve it when we get home. Currently Nala is very worried, and I'd like to go back to her. And your baby… I'm sure that when we explain it to him, he'll understand.
She didn't respond. She just brought her hands to her head and began to scratch her hair, clearly overwhelmed.
—This is very strange —she murmured—. It's very strange. Are you sure my baby, my cub, will be able to recognize me even in this form?
—I'm sure —I replied with as much conviction as I could muster—. Your scent has hardly changed at all. So he'll probably think it's you, even in this form. And maybe… maybe I'll be able to transform your cub too, so we can have him spend time with you and he has a form similar to yours.
She nodded slowly, and we both began to walk back.
I had to teach her little by little how to walk, as it was quite complicated for her. Since she now didn't have such a pronounced tail as mine—yes, she had a tail, but it was a bear's tail, quite short—it was difficult for her to keep her balance. But little by little she was able to achieve enough to be able to continue walking without any kind of inconvenience.
With time, she learned to navigate certain obstacles, to lift and lower her feet in such a way that she could walk, and even trot, to later be able to run without problems.
We quickly returned to the cave where she previously lived. She stood staring, appreciating the place.
—It looks much bigger than before —she said.
—That's because you're quite a bit smaller now —I explained—. You're almost my same height.
—So I'm almost as tall as you —she said, processing the information—. That's strange. Before you were shorter.
A small smile formed on her lips. I couldn't help but feel slightly nervous about that. Her smile was almost as charming as Nala's, or simply just as stimulating. I couldn't help but wonder how Nala would react when she saw her.
But it wasn't time for that kind of questioning.
Quickly, she and I returned to my home.
It took us a considerable amount of time—obviously we weren't the fastest beings in the world—but we arrived in record time, considering the circumstances.
Once home, Nala and the little cub were sitting in front of it.
She was feeding him some raw meat we had stored in the fridge.
The scene was very maternal, cute.
Or well, that's how it was until Nala saw me come out from among the trees along with a female who was unknown to her.
I could immediately notice how her eyes opened wide. Her pupils dilated, and her tail froze in the air.
She stared at me, but looked at her even more.
For a moment, you could hear how the sound of her heart seemed to stop, due to the imminent fury and feeling of betrayal that surely flooded her.
She gently placed the little cub on the ground.
As she approached me, she looked at me furiously.
I quickly raised my hands in a sign of peace, declaring that I had no intention of attacking her or defending myself, as a sign of total surrender.
—Nala, wait! —I said, raising my hands even higher—. Please, stop.
But she kept approaching. When she was close enough, I could see her clench her fists, preparing to throw a punch at me.
—Please, wait! —I insisted.
Then, the three-eyed mother bear stepped forward, staring at Nala. At that moment, I could notice how a third eye seemed to open on her forehead—a reflection of her original nature—. The instant Nala saw that third eye, she became completely paralyzed.
—You… I know you —Nala said.
Her brain made the connection. She recognized the three-eyed mother bear. She stood there, staring at her but still defensive, with one leg in front of the other and her fists clenched, preparing either to throw a kick or an extremely strong punch.
—Why do you look like this now? —she asked, in a much higher tone of voice than usual, and speaking much more fluently than I was used to.
The mother bear scratched her head, nervous.
—I… well, it was Adonai —she said, pointing at me with a gesture—. He transformed me into this with that little stone he has.
Nala stared at me the moment she knew precisely what had happened. I simply nodded, feeling guilty.
—And why don't you change her back to normal? —Nala asked, surprising me with how advanced her vocabulary had become—. Why don't you change her back to how she was before?
—I asked the Gem —I replied, with a slightly embarrassed but serious face—. But she simply said that currently she doesn't have that function.
Nala clicked her teeth very audibly and loudly, making me shudder slightly. Without saying anything more, she turned around and walked heavily towards the house.
Both the three-eyed mother bear and I stood watching, and then we began to walk behind her, but at a much slower and softer pace, as if we didn't want to make any kind of sound that would provoke her further.
Once we were close enough to the chairs in front of the house, Nala was already sitting with the little cub. The little one reacted immediately upon seeing the mother, his mother, but now with a humanoid body.
He was paralyzed, unable to understand why the woman in front of him smelled like his mother.
You could tell he was smelling her thanks to the small movements of his nose. Suddenly, he approached Nala and clung tightly to her leg, as if afraid of what was in front of him.
—Son —said the three-eyed mother bear, with a trembling voice.
I couldn't help but be a little surprised that she used the word "son," but at the same time I remained calm, since it was I who had taught her that word while we were returning home. I explained that it meant "cub," and she understood it.
She approached him gently. She knelt down, and opened her arms while leaning as much as possible to make sure he could see her belly, her open and vulnerable posture.
The moment the little cub saw that, he separated from Nala's legs and began to approach her with slow, hesitant steps. Until he was close enough for her to hug him. But she didn't. She simply waited for the little one to take his time, do things at his own pace, the right way.
Then, he hugged her tightly. He buried his nose as much as possible in her belly and enjoyed the scent, until he instinctively understood that what he had in front of him was his mother.
—Mom! —said the little one with a cheerful tone of voice, and thanks to our telepathic connection, I could understand him clearly.
—Son —she replied, hugging him tightly—. My son.
Both Nala and I were watching the emotional scene, and I couldn't help but feel quite happy. Although, well, Nala still had her brow deeply furrowed, angry.
It was quite obvious that, although she liked this, the anger was intense enough to overwhelm her.
I approached her as much as possible. However, she took a step to the side, wanting to stay away from me. I couldn't help but put on a sad expression, the smile disappearing from my face.
She noticed this, but simply ignored me and continued with her own business.
Not much time passed before the mother bear stood up while hugging her little one, who was considerably large for his age. She stood staring at me. I could notice a certain desire, a hope on her face.
—Could you, please, transform my little one too? —she said.
Author's Note: Well, folks, I can only say: HABEMUS MILF, PEOPLE! Now it's time to enjoy her 🥵.
People, thanks for reading and for all the support. This chapter has more than 6,600 words. If you can, pass a free AI to create images, so I can make a reference image of the three-eyed mommy.