#!status update

Somewhere, in a bed that welcomes his body more than it did the night before, Pino stares up at the ceiling. His hands are knitted together. His eyes just won't close. Why is my heart pounding. Why am I not exhausted enough after all of this.

It aches, it all aches. And suddenly...

it's time, it's time, it's time

He doesn't know what that means but he thinks he can guess and there's a little gasp of terror that he can't restrain. Please no, no no, not right now, I don't want to change, I don't want to

But none of his mental cries stifle the sudden feeling of being torn from himself, like a hand tearing his mind out of his body. And right after...

it all goes black...

"... eh."

Why are his hands... hurting? They feel like they're burning. Wasn't this supposed to happen earlier?

"... WAIT."

"He 'n I... I've said again and again, we're both made outta the same cheese. 'n I didn't wanna have to tip my hand, but seems like I got no choice in the matter if I wanna... do somethin' about alla this..."

The ache turns to fire as the cowboy cheeseslime grips the floorboards under his hands. Gloved fingertips dig into the wood yet again. Again. Again. Everything changes and changes and his body is burning burning burning as he changes with everything--

"Paw, I didn't know you could do that!" A much younger Vigert stares up at his grandpa, squinting at the figure now towering over him. "Well, it's unique to our line." A white-gloved hand reaches down and gives the little cheeseslime a pat on top of his oversized cowboy hat. "Not every cheese has the ability to be reshaped. But someday, you'll be able to do this, too." "What? Why?" "There are some things that are easier when you're looking at it from another perspective. Here, I'll teach ya. Let's go out to the barn." Those same hands reach down and scoop up Vigert, who nestles closer to the figure's chest and buries his face in those overalls...

Dough-Rat, currently in small Peppino form, isn't sure what to do with itself right now. There's nothing that it can actually do to help, nothing that its frightened brain can think of.

All it can do is hide. Just like before.

He's tired. The last thing he needs is a sense of heightened security - scrutiny above his usual alertness. And it makes him so, so tired.

Having part of himself sheared off didn't help.

I have to stay awake. If I stay awake they can't get me

If I stay awake I can protect myself I can't sleep yet

He knows he's in no state to protect himself or his farm. If whatever harmed him came back... or if something else... ...

woo!!!! got the first chapter published and it came out to about 5100 words (not including the little author’s note at the end).

i’m not expecting a huge surge of readers at this point because i really have been out of the game too long. but i’m gonna work on the next chapter, fix up my profile, and keep moving forward.