Your Human and You: Wolf in Sheeps Clothing

I awaken slowly to the sound of neighing and whinnying. I shake my head, but nothing changes. This is no dream. I really am trapped in a pet shop.

Something fastens around my neck. My eyes dart around, searching for the attacker, I claw at the noose. I will not die - not here, not like this. The horse responsible stands outside my cage, its horn aglow. I really must get used to that. In the glass of the window across from me, I can see what is around my neck. A dog collar. How appropriate.

I gaze forlornly at the collar adorning my neck, and then the cage door swings open. With the magic from its horn, the horse lifts the leash attached to my collar and tugs. She wants to take me outside.

"No, please. You don't want me free - I'm dangerous!" I back up to the bars opposite the horse, my fingers wrapping around them. "Please, I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm a monster!" The flames of the torches my fellow villagers held blaze in my memory. They wouldn’t have attacked me if I wasn’t a monster.

There's another tug on the collar, and the horse neighs softly. She's not going to comply. I gulp, and step toward her. All I have to do is keep myself hidden. I kept safe in Brightwall until yesterday - I can hide among these things too. Just don't change…

I follow down a few hallways and we come to a door. She opens it and we walk into the sun. We’re in a large yard surrounded by a fence, and I’m alarmed to see several naked females, all around my age.

The ones nearby look at me, before looking at the largest female - the leader, it seems. Though she is the tallest of them, I still stand a foot taller. The child walks closer to me, examining me. At this distance I can smell all sorts of things about her: her emotions, her last meals, her hormones, and her age. This child who stands before me looks at least twelve, but somehow, it seems she’s only two years old. The fact seems so unbelievable, I question my senses. But I know better than to doubt my abilities.

She steps closer, until she’s only inches away. She sniffs me. Something flickers in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can smell it out. Her mouth contorts and she sniffs again. This time her eyes widen and she screams, stumbling before running back to the rest. They glance at me with open mouths before all scrambling away.

I hear whinnies and neighs in a pattern, almost like a sentence. I turn to the pony holding my leash and she stares back at me. I can see the worry in the creases around her muzzle. It seems she’s wondering the same thing as me.

She turns around and pulls on the leash. I follow her back inside, relieved to get away from those people. She locks me back in my cage, and I look her in the eye.

“Thank you,” I whisper. “I could have killed them. I could have killed you! I’m a monster…” The pony snorts and whinnies. It seems like she’s trying to speak to me, but seeing the confusion on my face, she shakes her head and leaves. But when her back is turned, I think I hear her at last.

“...good home.”

Those two words are the first I understand of their language, but I don’t know what she means by them. I fear she’s implying someone has already adopted me. The hair on my nape prickles and I feel sweat forming on my forehead and my palms as I clutch the bars of my cage. They don’t realize the danger they’re in…

A voice echoes in my head. “Then show them.”

I feel the blood pulsing past my ears. No, they’ll get hurt.

“Do it.”

I don’t want them to get hurt!

“Why not? You are a monster. A balverine. Change. Free yourself.”

A light whinny snaps me out of my trance. I find myself curled in the corner, tears streaming down my cheeks. Looking down at me from outside the cage is a smaller version of the other pony. We gaze at each other for what feels like hours, and then she turns to the older one, who stands beside her. They neigh to each other, and this time I catch more words.

"Can.....get her?" No! You don't want me! I curl up even tighter. Please! I'm dangerous!

"Yay!" No. I'm dangerous.

It sinks in - what's happening. I'm being bought. Taken home. A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Food…” the voice in my head says.

No...