The dawn light filtered through the canopy, casting long, jagged shadows across the dirt road. Blop stood still, testing the limits of his new, smaller frame. It was a strange sensation. For a creature used to shifting mass at will, being confined to this specific "Small Version" human was like being trapped in a cage of bone and skin.
("Why is it so tight?" )Blop thought, his brow twitching in irritation. He looked down at the royal silks he had scavenged. On the original owner, they had been loose and flowing.
But Blop's mimicry was imperfect; his body naturally optimized for strength. Underneath the delicate fabric, his muscles were dense, his shoulders broad and corded like an athlete's. Every time he tried to take a full stride, the silk pulled against his thighs and back, threatening to tear.
("I cannot even walk straight. How am I supposed to reach Robelt like this?") He let out a heavy sigh, a sound that felt foreign in his own chest. He rested against a mossy boulder, his eyes scanning the horizon.
("When I was the larger version, the clothes fit because I forced them to. But this frame... it is too compact. Too efficient.")
He looked up at the sun. He was bored. The slowness of human travel was a burden. ("Should I transform back into the wolf?")
The thought felt right. ("In that form, I can carry my items inside me. Four legs would eat through the distance, though the caloric cost would be higher.")
After a few more minutes of struggling with the restrictive silks, Blop reached a conclusion. Walking was a waste of time. He stood up, his gaze cold. Slowly, he unbuttoned the tight tunic.
As the fabric fell, his true athletic core was revealed—a body built for violence, not for tea parties. Then, the change began.
It was a sickening sound—the wet snap of vertebrae and the sliding of muscle over muscle. His chest cavity split open, the meat parting like a red curtain to reveal a dark, hollow space.
He carefully tucked the silks, the map, and his few items into his secondary stomach—a dry, safe pocket of flesh. The fur erupted from his pores in a black wave, and within seconds, a massive dire wolf stood where the "princess" had been.
He didn't wait. He sprinted.
The world became a blur of smells and sounds. He ran for miles, his paws pounding the earth with a rhythm that shook the dirt. He was a machine made of fur and teeth.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in bruises of purple and orange, Blop slowed. He caught a scent—metallic, sharp, and entirely unusual.
He veered off the main route, creeping into the dense jungle. He stopped just in time, melting into the shadows of the thick bushes to observe.
Below him, a chaotic scene unfolded. Five small, green-skinned humanoid figures were swarming a wild Orc Pig.( "These things... they are strange," )
Blop thought, his wolf-eyes narrowing. ("They have the shape of humans, but their skin is the color of rot. They are so small. Like human babies, yet they move with a frantic, desperate energy.")
The green creatures were winning at first. They used crude stone tools to jab at the pig's thick hide. But then, the Orc Pig let out a roar that seemed to vibrate the very trees. Its body began to change. Its muscles didn't just grow; they hardened into something resembling living metal. Two massive tusks grew longer, shimmering with a dark, magical sheen.
With a burst of explosive speed, the pig launched itself. It didn't just bite; it obliterated. In a single pass, it crushed two of the green creatures into a pulp of emerald blood and bone. It turned again, its metallic muscles rippling, and finished the rest in a blur of violence.
Then, as quickly as it had begun, the pig's body sagged. The metal faded back into gray flesh.
("Interesting," Blop mused, his golden eyes unblinking. "The creature has a temporary biological weapon. But the cost is high.")
Blop stepped out from the bushes, his massive wolf frame looming over the clearing. The Orc Pig turned, ready to fight for its life, but as it looked at Blop, its spirit simply broke. It didn't attack. It didn't roar.
It tried to take a single step to run, but its legs buckled. It collapsed, its heart hammering against its ribs in a final, exhausted rhythm.
("Huh? What just happened?" )Blop stopped, his snout inches from the pig's face. ("I did not even strike. Why is it giving up? Is this the 'exhaustion' I felt earlier, or is it something else?")
The pig laid there, its eyes wide with the realization of death. It was helpless. Blop didn't feel pity; he felt hunger. He opened his jaws, his teeth piercing the pig's throat.
He tore away a massive chunk of meat, the warm blood staining his fur. He ate while the creature was still breathing, its slow, dying gasps a rhythmic accompaniment to his meal. Nature was not kind, and Blop was the apex of nature.
The night passed in a peaceful silence. Blop slept in the wolf form, his belly full. But as the first light of morning touched the trees, a sound reached him from miles away.
It was a rhythmic, wooden creaking, accompanied by the heavy thud of hooves. It was an irritating, repetitive sound.
("The sound of a cart," )Blop realized. ("If I transform back into the Small Version, I can ride. Riding means I do not have to hunt for three days.")
He stood, his bones shattering and reforming once more. The fur vanished into his skin, leaving him as the "small frame human" again. He dressed quickly, the silks feeling even tighter than before. He stepped onto the middle of the route and waited.
The cart was late, and Blop found himself feeling a very human emotion: boredom.
He kicked at a stone, watching it fly. Finally, a merchant's cart rounded the bend and skidded to a stop. The driver, an older man with a weathered face, stared at Blop.
("Why is there a princess in the middle of the woods?") the merchant wondered, his hands shaking on the reins.
("Is she from the King's castle? But look at her... her muscles are so jacked up. She looks like she could snap a bear in half.")
The merchant climbed down, his knees wobbling. "Miss... Princess? Why are you here? Is your royal cart damaged? Where are your guards?"
Blop didn't answer. He just looked at the man. He hadn't practiced his vocal cords enough to speak, so he chose the only logical path: total silence. He didn't blink. He just stared, his eyes tracking the pulse in the merchant's neck.
("Why is she glaring like that?" )the merchant screamed internally.
( "Did I say something wrong? Oh no, she's a noble, and I'm a peasant. I'm going to be executed right here!")Sweat poured down the man's face.
The tension was thick enough to cut. When Blop reached into the folds of his silk tunic to retrieve the map, the merchant's mind broke. He thought she was reaching for a hidden dagger to slit his throat for his insolence.
"NO! PLEASE!" the merchant shrieked, throwing himself to the ground.
He grabbed Blop's feet, sobbing. "Mistress, please! Don't kill me! I haven't seen the world! I have a family! If you want, I can dance for you! I can be your jester! Just let me live!"
Blop looked down at the man, genuinely confused.( "Is this how humans greet royalty? By offering to dance?")
He ignored the sobbing and simply pulled out the map, thrusting it in front of the man's face.
The merchant froze, his eyes red from crying.
He looked at the map, then back at the silent "Princess."( "Wait... she just wanted directions? I thought I was dead.
Thank the Gods!" He let out a shaky, Thank the Gods!")
He let out a shaky, hysterical laugh. "Oh! Robelt Kingdom? You want to go to Robelt? Mistress, you can count on me! My cart is yours! It's a long way, but we will get there!"
The merchant's fear was quickly replaced by greed. ("Hehehe, if I deliver a Princess to Robelt, the King will make me a rich man!")
He gestured for Blop to enter.
"Princess, please, sit in the back. This peasant's cart is at your service."
Blop climbed in, his athletic frame taking up more space than the merchant expected.
As the cart began to move, the merchant called out.
"Miss, if you are hungry, I have fruits in those baskets. Five different kinds! Take whatever you want!"
Blop looked at the baskets. There were red, blue, and yellow fruits, smelling of sugar and sunlight. He began to eat, the sweetness exploding on his tongue. It was better than Orc Pig.
("This man is so kind,") Blop thought, his unblinking eyes watching the merchant's back.
( "I hope the people in Robelt are just like him. It will be very easy to live among them if they just give me free things whenever I look at them.")