I felt strange. Something wasn't right. My head hurt.
"Where was I?" I asked groggily, but as if in answer, memories surged to the forefront of my mind.
I was working on a farm. I remembered hammering away at a piece of steel—a horseshoe, I think. Then something happened. A scream. I'd gone to investigate, and as I came around the corner, fear gripped me and I froze.
There stood a bull, its head lowered, buried deep in the chest of what looked like a shredded corpse. Blood pooled beneath the freshly dead body, dark and steaming.
I stepped back.
Crack.
I glanced down. A stick lay broken in two at my feet, sitting there innocently—like it hadn't just signed my death warrant.
I heard the thunderous stomp of a hoof.
My head snapped up, and I was met with the bull's glare. Blood dripped from its gore-smeared snout, strings of red hanging from its muzzle. A low, bloodthirsty bellow tore from its maw before it charged.
I tried to jump aside, but it was too close.
Its horns pierced my stomach before my legs could even bend. My back slammed into a wall as the bull drove forward, its horns digging deeper into me until they burst out through my back.
I flinched as the beast tried to pull away—only to fail. Its horns were trapped in the wall. I took grim pleasure in its struggle, until I flinched again as its efforts tore my wound wider.
That hurt. Gods, that hurt.
With what little strength I had left, I struck the damned animal on the head. It probably did nothing, but I didn't care. My arms grew heavy. So heavy I couldn't lift a finger.
My eyes followed soon after.
I died.
My eyes shot open as I sucked in air greedily.
"Where was I?"
I didn't feel dead. If anything, I felt… wet.
I raised my hands to inspect the liquid coating my body, but what truly caught my attention wasn't the fluid.
My hands were smaller. Still human-shaped, but covered in patches of fur. They reminded me of a baby's hands—except where a baby's limbs were weak and fragile, mine were thicker, heavier, with the promise of strength yet to come.
And human babies definitely didn't have fur on their arms. At least, I hoped they didn't.
"What's wrong with me?" I tried to ask.
Instead of words, a bleating, animal sound escaped my throat—something like a calf calling for its mother.
Panic seized me.
I tried to stand, but my limbs failed me and I collapsed. Frustration boiled over and I kicked out blindly.
Crack.
Wood splintered beneath my foot.
That… wasn't normal.
Before I could process that, I heard footsteps. Even from here, they sounded hesitant, as if whoever approached didn't want to—but something forced them forward.
My nose twitched. The smell hit me hard.
Cow droppings.
Before I could dwell on that unsettling realization, a shadow loomed over me.
A giant.
No… I realized. I was small.
The final piece fell into place.
I had been reincarnated.
But as what?
I focused on the man standing over me. His face twisted with fear, disgust, and worry—all of it directed at me. When he raised the knife in his shaking hand, I understood.
"Sigmar, give me strength," he whispered.
I tried to scream for him to stop. Only another pitiful animal cry left my throat.
But it was enough.
The man recoiled as if struck. The knife clattered to the floor. Tears streamed down his face as he staggered back, then stepped forward again—something in his eyes changing.
He picked me up hesitantly.
Yet, to my surprise, he held me gently… if at a distance.
I felt the movement as he walked. I felt the cold air when we left the house. I felt it when he broke into a run. The lights I assumed were houses faded behind us, and the stench of my birthplace vanished.
Dark, towering shapes—trees—rose ahead.
My eyes grew heavy. I tried to fight it. I couldn't sleep now.
My body disagreed.
Darkness took me.
When I woke, I was alone.
The trees felt closer now. More threatening. Shadows stretched unnaturally, and distant wolf howls sent chills crawling down my spine.
I tried to stand, only to realize I was wrapped in cloth. I twisted and rolled until the blanket fell away. For a moment, I thought I might stand.
Then my legs buckled beneath my weight.
Frustration boiled over and I screamed.
It sounded pathetic.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the sky. For the first time since opening my eyes, I had space to think.
I died… and was reborn as some kind of cow-person? Beastman?
Who was that man? My father? He didn't look like a beastman. Maybe he'd… been doing something with the neighbor's cow.
A short, bitter laugh escaped my snout.
Looks like my maybe-dad abandoned me in the woods. Definitely not winning father of the year.
But as the laughter faded, a sound silenced me.
Footsteps.