(F to Clydesdale)

Natalie was a nice girl. Not exceptionally so, but she certainly wasn’t bad. There was no reason that she’d be singled out for any karmic misdeeds. At the same time, she wasn’t perfect either. It wasn’t like a Shifter had decided to single her out as a lesson to non-perfect humanity.

She was simply in the wrong place, at the wrong time. So much so that she didn’t even notice just who had started to change her. All she knew was that she was in the morning commute, patiently driving behind a semi, and her seat belt started to feel tighter.

Natalie shifted in her seat, absently rubbing at her belly. She’d had a full lunch for a change, but it shouldn’t have been that full. Worse, she’d been in a hurry to get back to work, and had accidentally pulled the belt out all the way. Now it was ratcheted fast to her form, and she could feel herself starting to squeeze around it.

As she reached for the release, the truck in front of her swerved. A pickup that had been trying to pass it was simply smashed off the road, and Natalie could swear she saw a cloud of feathers burst from one of its shattered windows.

She didn’t give it much more thought, instead hammering the brakes and turning her wheel, giving a quick glance to her rearview mirror just in case. She only caught sight of her reflection for a minute, but she could have sworn her eyes were bigger than they’d ever been.

Then the truck in front of her crunched inward, as though it was imploding. The crunches were loud enough to hear even over her stereo, and she gawped in fear, dreading that whatever had caused that would somehow, impossibly also affect her.

Little did Natalie know, it was already much too late. Her ears stretched towards the top of her head, flitting towards the crunching sound. Her feet pressed harder against the brake pedal, thanks to her stretching, bulging legs. She rose a little higher in her seat as her ass swelled, which did little to help the biting constriction of her seatbelt.

All of that were numb afterthoughts to her. She was, unfortunately, too fixated on the sight before her. The truck’s shape was redefining itself. It was turning into a small crate, the kind of cage for a small dog or a bird or a-

Another car slammed into the cage, spinning out of control. Its front turned towards Natalie, and she could see the driver had neither hand on the wheel. Instead, one of her hands was gripping her other wrist, as though it could contain the swelling growth of a gray tree-trunk like limb.

At that point, cold logic asserted itself, along with a whelming wave of fear. Natalie had watched the news. She knew what to do in situations like this. She had to get out of her car and off the road, and hope.

That was really all that she could do. There was no guarantee that another more benevolent Shifter would arrest her changes, or turn her back to normal. There was no guarantee that she’d retain enough of her mind to ask for help. All she could do was hope that she could be helped, and if not, that her new form wouldn’t be too offensive.

Natalie’s finger clacked against the emergency blinker switch on her dashboard, and her heart sank. She looked to her hand nervously, dreading the sight of plastic or metal overtaking her skin. Instead, she was a thick clumpy mass of keratin engulf her fingers. Her hand was squeezed like an aggressive handshake for just a moment, then released.

It was a hoof. On the one hand, it meant that she’d end up as an animal. On the other hand, she wouldn’t have hands for long. She fumbled at the steering wheel to drift towards the emergency lane, trying to lift her leg to give her car a little gas.

Instead, Natalie’s leg thumped at the gas with enough force to make something in the car crack, lurching her forward before she stomped again at the brake. That definitely didn’t agree with her car, which made an awful grinding sound that made her heart hammer.

Run! Danger! Flee! Her mind screamed at her, but it wasn’t in the form of words. She instead processed these commands as concepts, animal instinct driving her to… Well, not drive. Her seatbelt tightened further, and even her thickening skin couldn’t save her from feeling it.

Natalie looked ahead to the woman she’d seen earlier, gawping in amazement as an elephant burst from her car. Well, mostly. It still had the woman’s sobbing face. She was pretty. She wouldn’t be for long. Her ears flapped widely, and she shook her head as though she could fling them away. Each shake stretched her nose a little more until it was a full trunk. Then her eyes glazed as her head stretched wide. A torrent of drool slapped the crumpled frame of her car.

Her changes had been so quick. And worse, it looked like they were mental too. How long did Natalie have? Did she have… Have… Her brain searched for some way to measure time and came up blank. Frustrated, she slammed her hooves against the car, shoving her up in her seat a little, just enough that the belt now truly dug into her gut.

Natalie wasn’t becoming fat. She was becoming large. Her thighs were toned, and she could feel her arms starting to swell too. That was some small consolation. At least she wouldn’t end up as a cow or a pig. Probably.

She moved to her seatbelt, trying to click it open before she forgot how. Unfortunately, her arms were too long now, and even if they weren’t, there was no way either of her hands could hit the button. Some instinct told her to take a deep breath in, so she did.

It hurt. The changes weren’t so bad, but the vise of her belt didn’t agree with her puffing up her chest. The pressure kept building and building. Tears dewed at the corners of her swelling eyes. She looked at her rearview mirror and found her nose was swelling larger on her face.

Then the dam burst. The seatbelt tore from her body, snapped off at its mount on the car She’d broken plastic just by breathing. Natalie let out her breath, smiling in relief. “WHUHGGHNNY!”

The whinny was loud enough to leave her changed ears ringing. It had enough force to stretch her neck, slamming her cheek against her car’s sun roof. Natalie had always wanted a pony.

It was a random thought and a traitorous one. Her body bulged. New bulk swelled along her, and thick, shaggy fetlocks burst from her wrists and ankles. They were so warm and hairy, and swayed with every motion she made. She-

The big gray animal let out a loud trumpet, distracting her. She flinched in shock at the noise, arms flailing, cracking against the windshield. One swing was angled just right to slam into the glass pressing against her face, and it popped from its frame, letting her headshot from the top of her car.

“GUHHYYYNHYYY!” She neighed again. It was a deep-throated sound. She couldn’t look down to see herself, but she could feel. She knew she was big. She knew she was bulky. It was right for her to be one. After all, she was a Clydesdale.

Clydesdale…

The word was her last human thought. Her head bulged into a horse’s, tongue slamming against thickening teeth, drool frothing between the new gaps as transformation undid years of braces. Most significantly for her, her brain lost all capacity for anything save the new simple life of a Clydesdale.

At least, it should have been simple. She—the horse didn’t have a name—struggled, but couldn’t free herself from the frame of her car. From an outside perspective, it would almost be comical – her front hooves stuck out the front windshield. Her big blocky head hung well above the sunroof of her car. Her hooves even had popped something free, and could be seen from below.

But humor was a concept now lost on her. She simply squirmed, rubbing her fat hindquarters against the leather of her seat, feeling her growing tail bunch up against it. She whinnied, trying to catch anyone’s attention. And she remained ignorant of just why she’d changed.

Was it a Shifter struck in traffic? Did they only change people immediately around them, and so maybe later some firefighters would be able to free the new Clydesdale from her surroundings? Did they have a twisted sense of humor, and add some predators to the area, which would find a trapped horse an appetizing meal?

The Clydesdale couldn’t consider any of those possibilities. She could never lament that, despite how nice she’d been in her human life, she’d ended up like this.