After her big flame-out, the kitty and her body were exhausted. So, as we both allowed darkness to overtake us for the first catnap of the day, I remained awake and thinking. I pondered how I was going to get out of this scenario. I had been sharing this form for thel last two hours or so, and most of it had been dealing with a snyde cat-soul that was none too pleased about sharing her body. Add that to the nearly twelve hours I had been in this form, and I was just plain done with dealing with... all... this. I needed to be back home with my wife. I needed to cuddle with my child. I had to get out of this form.
But would I?
The one question nearly drowned me. I started sobbing as the implications hit me.
First, there was my family. My child would grow up thinking her father had simply left one day, abandoning her and her disabled mother to fend for themselves. She would likely become resentful, dreading a meeting with her restored father and angry that I didn't even say goodbye. The kicker, the nut-busting, ass-kicking resolution to it all would he the closeness I dreamt of having with my child like my parents had with me would not happen. I would be alone, with family that hated me.
That resentment would likely extend to my own parents, as well as hers. I groaned. My dad had already expressed displeasure at the idea of divorce, likening it to the concept of abandonment and declaring it "unthinkable". This was tantamount. One in the same. I knew how damaging this would be to him and Mom, never mind my sister, her husband, and my cousins. I was not the eldest of all of my generation, but I was certainly old enough to be influential to most of them. What would they think of me?
I choked on my spit.
There was also the farm to consider. Between retired in-laws, a wife on disability, and myself, I was the primary income-earner. If I was incapable of working, the critical vein of income would dry up. We had put a lot of work into the farm over the past three years. We put in the orchard: eight apple trees, three pears, three plums, two cheeries and a fig. We even got the llama operation to a point where we could process their fibre and get it moving at a good clip. We also fixed up the place to look half past decent. All we had to say was go, and after a few months we would be sitting pretty. Until then, we were always two months from losing it all as it was. I had that long to get the farm back together, to get me out of this form, to get Opal back to her world. Otherwise I would be homeless, I would have failed everyone, and I would be set to the road with a soul unwelcoming attached to me.
Not only that, but I couldn't even call myself at home in this body. Opal didn't want me, she had made that abundant and clear. So where was I to go? Was I to wander the void of Opal's mind as a consciousness dying of disuse? Was my destiny as an advisor? Where did we go from here? How did it disappear? It was hard to see through these foreign eyes...
Forget my dick. I wanted my family back, even if I had to become a damned eunuch to do so.
I tried rousing Opal, but it was useless. So, without much choice, I envisioned Rosebud's auburn hair, her pale skin, and her ever-changing hazel eyes, and I swore on everything I could legally and spiritually swear on that I would find a way to cure this as soon as possible. I had a timeline, and I had a goal.
After your nap, Opal, we're getting down to business, whether you like it or not.
I spent the rest of the nap coming up with ways to get to a television to watch the news, or at least one of my phones. I now had to know how many were like me, how many were transformed.
Where is Rarity?
The question smelt of hickory smoked salmon, one of my favourites. It was a question of love.
I smiled.
We may get through this yet, Opal.