The blizzard had caught Tayara unaware, the wind and snow battering against his fur, white flakes setting into his coat. The woods around him grew dark and indistinct, the grey clouds overhead blocking the last rays of the evening sun.

   Battling on through the howling snow, he spied a dim light up ahead, almost lost between the dark silhouettes of trees. Seizing on the chance of shelter, he pushed on, paws dragging through the slush of snow and leaves that covered the path. Gradually, the shape of the house grew clearer despite the storm: a turreted mansion, old and covered in overgrown vines. Its imposing form reminded Tayara of a haunted house, forbidding and frightening, the promise of shelter just winning over his fear.

   By the time the canine had reached the broad, oak door he was as white as a sheet. Snow covered his fur, the shades of brown lost beneath it, only the patches of vibrant green showing through, the tips of his ears standing out about his head.

   Pausing a moment to shake the worst of the snow from him, tail wagging behind him, he tried the door without bothering to knock. Ancient hinges creaked and strained as he pushed inside, the wind sending a flurry of snow in with him. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the quiet house, the howling wind a distant memory behind him. He savoured the warmth inside as he gazed around the grand entrance hall he found himself in. Lamps lined the wall, flickering gaslight casting their warm glow across the paintings and relics that lined the walls: paintings of ancient cities, gleaming suits of armour, marble statues of forgotten heroes.

   “What is this place…” Tayara wondered aloud, tamping out the last of the snow from his fur.

   “This… is my home,” the stern voice cut through the air, the canine jumping slightly at the sound, turning to face the woman walking down the stairs. Her emerald scales glittered in the light, white dress hugging her body, trailing down over her long legs and longer tail; her serpentine head crowned in writhing, amber serpents, “but please, do make yourself at home…” There was a note of sarcasm in her voice, but Tayara was far too cold to notice.

   “Oh, thanks…,” the canine replied, pied brown fur shining sleekly, more damp than snow-covered now, “the blizzard caught me by surprise… is there, er, somewhere I could warm up? Dry off a bit?”

   The snake rolled her eyes, clawed feet clicking softly against the stone floor, stepping up to the canine and towering over him. “Why, of course! The living room is just through there,” she gestured to a door, the flickering light of a fire just visible through it, “feel free to take a seat, warm yourself up by the fire…”

   “Thanks!” Tayara grinned again, oblivious to the venom practically dripping from the snake’s words, walking through to the opulent living room, eyes lighting up at the sight of the flames roaring in a great stone fireplace. He padded over, feet leaving damp patches in the patterned rug as he went, rubbing his hands together in front of the fire, “but, er, there aren’t any chairs?”

   “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that…” the snake’s voice was warmer now, more teasing than sarcastic, “and the names Helena, by the way…”

   “Should I just sit… here?” Tayara turned, confused, wondering for the first time if he should have asked before barging into a stranger’s house - blizzard or no blizzard. But, still, the fire was wonderfully warm - the feeling of heat and contentment spreading through his body, soothing aching muscles, leaving his whole body feeling relaxed, almost tired.

   Helena shrugged, “just about anywhere will do, I can always move you later.”

   “What do you mean… move me?” Tayara ran his hands nervously across his arms, smoothing down his fur, drier now but strangely smooth, almost hard to the touch. He turned to move towards Helena but found his joints protesting, straining against the movement. “... what? What’s happening to me?”

   “Well, you wanted to warm up in my house, I’m just making sure you’re useful while you’re here…” Helena flashed a wicked smile, the canine’s eyes focusing on her fangs, the mass of snakes turning to hiss at him.

   The harder Tayara tried to move, the more his body seemed to protest, pain running up his legs. Knees locked in place, rebelling against him, bending more and more until he found himself off-balance, tipping backwards. There was a brief moment of weightlessness before something hard slammed against the tip of his tail, the shock carried up his spine, shaking his whole body. Craning his neck, he could just about see his tail behind him, perfectly straight and impossibly solid, resting against the ground. As he watched, tufts of fur smoothed out, flattening against each other, weaving into patterns like wood grain. He could feel it start to stretch out to the sides, hear it snapping and groaning, tearing itself apart, splitting in two. The sensation was alien and uncomfortable but mercifully painless, though that did little to ease his fears as his body continued to contort and reshape itself.

   Closing his eyes, as if that might stop the changes from progressing, the canine focused on his legs. He could feel a pressure on his thighs, squeezing and moulding them together, flattening them, all the while his legs were forced further apart. Paws froze in place, no longer moving at all as fur and claw alike turned to polished wood, looking like little more than a carving. He could feel the changes crawling up over his knees, running along the underside of his thighs, across his rear where it met his split tail, still creaking and groaning, sliding against the rough carpet as it shaped itself into a pair of matching legs.

   Opening his eyes, he ran his stiffening hands across the top of his thighs, watching their flesh press and merge together, expecting to feel the same petrifying stillness. Instead, he could still feel soft fur, the flesh beneath no longer muscle but soft cushioning. It expanded upwards slowly, a tingling feeling as his flesh split apart in thousands of tiny ways, shifting to the lighter brown colour of his belly than the rich, dark brown of his legs. The cushioning spread upwards, rising around his sheath, consuming it, belly pressing out and around. His paws traced their way up, a shiver of pleasure running through his body, the changing cushioning so sensitive to his touch.

   “I’m becoming… a chair…?” He gasped, the words catching a little short, the changes reaching further up his chest, calming his heart, “...why?”

   Helena sighed again, snakes waving listlessly around her, stepping closer to the changing canine, his lower body almost indistinguishable from a chair now.

   “You wanted to be warm by the fire? Now you always will be, my dear canine friend.” She towered over him now, leaning down, gazing into his eyes with 9 pairs of her own. Scaled hands firmly, but gently, gripped his wrists, guiding them down to the wooden edges of his thighs, “now hold still, this won’t take much longer.”

   He tried to speak, mouth moving but no longer unable to make any sounds. All he could do was try and plead with his eyes, staring up at his serpentine captor. He struggled with his hands, paws stuck fast to his thighs, straining to free them with what little strength he had left. His forearms shifted up, slowly but surely, and for a moment Tayara thought he might have broken free before he realised his hands were still stuck either side of his seat: they’d simply stretched upwards to form armrests. Soon, he couldn’t move them at all, changing flesh locking hard as fur turned to wood.

   His chest rose up higher, the pressure inside pushing against his upper arms, flesh merging together as it changed. Below his head, the cushioning rose up higher, padding getting thicker with every passing moment. Amidst the rest of the changes, he felt a strange pushing sensation at his navel, radiating outwards, as if trying to push his body aside. His torso grew hollow, what remained of his insides settling above and below, leaving only a feeling of emptiness inside. A moment later, the feeling of his body tearing apart as his tail had done, the wood of his back creaking and groaning in protest, cushioned front rolling outwards around a growing hole. He tried to shift his head, craning for a better look, the only motion he seemed to have left, but all he could see where his shoulders pushing up either side of his head.

   “Just a little something to make you more… snake friendly…” Helena spoke as if reading his mind, thick tail lashing behind her as if punctuating her point.

   Wooden shoulders continued to rise either side of his vision, the room around him seeming to grow larger, his serpentine captor even more so. Turning about, neck growing stiffer with every passing moment, he realised it was because his head was shrinking down, sinking into the back of the chair he had become. Muscles tensed and tightened, locking up, forcing his head to the left, freezing it permanently in place.

   Every sensation seemed magnified as the last of his body changed, the wood that had once been his shoulders closing in around him, pressing against his changing fur. An invisible weight pushed against his head, half-flattening it into the rest of his body, vision in his left eye turning to black as it was forced into his body. He could feel the creeping stillness crawl across his face, every feature and tuft of fur freezing into a wooden carving, all colouration lost and replaced with dark wood grain. All that remained free was his right eye, a sharp sensation as the smooth surface fractured into dozens of smooth facets, the brilliant green of his iris radiating out across his eye as it became an emerald set into the carving that was once his face. He tried to move it, look around, vision shimmering and shifting strangely as if he now rested under a crystal dome.

   “Perfect…” Helena stepped around him, admiring her new creation, dragging a hand across the back of her new chair. Claws ran across the hard wood, catching in the grains, the delicate carving of his face. Every touch and knock sent vibrations through his body, bringing a strange pleasure despite all that had happened to him, “just perfect.”

   She spun his body around to face the fire, Tayara feeling a strange weightlessness and tugging through his immobile body, before the impact of his feet against the rough carpet and hard floor shook his body. She shifted him back and forth a couple more times, getting his position perfect before she curled her tail up and passing it through Tayara’s back before settling down, her body pressing into him, seat deforming around her backside.

   Tayara could feel an explosion of alien sensations: the weight of her body pressing down against him, the strain her every movement was placing on his wooden legs, pleasure as his soft and sensitive cushion pressed against the base of her tail. She leaned back, hearing the subtle creaks and protestations of his body, curling her tail back around one of his legs, settling in.

   “You know, my canine friend, I think I might just keep you like this… at least, until someone else comes barging through my door…”

   There Tayara remained, little more than a chair - albeit, a rather finely crafted chair. Though Helena had many visitors, and many people would sit in Tayara over the years, no-one but her knew who the chair had once been. Each visitor felt different, weighed different, putting their own marks and dents into his woodwork over the years. But, at least, he was warm by the fire...