#minomarch

"Can ya stay still?" You huff, reaching for another donut as his shaft twitches again from the sugary cage it's in. He sighs heavily at your antics, shifting on the couch to get more comfortable.

"Fucking TikTok," he mutters, rolling his eyes.

"Shh," you scold playfully as you balance the last donut on top of his now-crowned cock.

"Can I… fuck ya now?" He groans lowly, his cock throbbing beneath the weight of the pastry rings.

A frustrated noise leaves him as you ignore his plea, instead pulling out your phone to snap a picture of your creation.

"Just… hold onnnn~" You purr teasingly. Taking a few pictures of your handiwork, snapping several angles to capture every detail.

After snapping the last pic, you toss your phone onto the couch.

"Okay, I'm done!"

With a growl, your minotaur boyfriend immediately rises from the couch, scattering the donuts onto the floor as he lifts you into his muscular arms, striding towards the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom.

"THE DONUTS!" You shout dramatically, struggling in his grasp with laughter bubbling in your throat.

His strength easily holds you close as he throws you down onto the plush covers of your bed, crawling overtop you to capture your lips with his own.

The messenger stepped into the torch lit stone maze, but when the gates closed behind him, he couldn’t take another step forward. His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. The corridor before him was a bustling square, The walls and ceilings made of marble, multi-colored light emanating from glowing crystals in the ceiling. Dozens and dozens of minotaurs wandered, some conversing in sign, others carrying trinkets food and gold, the clopping of their hooves echoing off the walls. This wide corridor branched off into many other hallways, rooms and alcoves. 

As he wandered the labyrinth, Matthew had expected some hostility from the minotaurs, but instead: all of them seemed rather passive. Sure, some carried axes on their belts,  and some scowled at him, but most of them barely gave him a glance, and some even gave him a friendly wave and a lighthearted ‘mooo!’ They all seemed to have different senses in fashion, some having loose baggy clothing, others wearing tightly woven clothing, and some only wore short pants or coverings around their waists, without wearing anything over their chests. Most had nose rings, but some also had piercings on their ears as well. Some even dyed their hair, fur, or horns. 

The maze changed the more he wandered, hallways growing narrower and then wider and then narrow again, zig-zagging in sharp turns, and even changing materials from marble to granite, to hardened clay, and back to marble. He realized that some of these corridors lead to various different shops, eateries, or social centers, but he found no pattern in where any of them lied. Some corridors just lead to more winding corridors, but other times he would turn a corner and end up standing at the entrance of a blacksmith’s shop, or a clothing store, or a locked gate, which he assumed lead to someone’s residence. It was easy to get lost, so after wandering for what felt like a half hour, he finally decided that it would be smart to stop and ask for directions. 

He found a burly group of minotaurs wearing armor and badges, standing by and signing to each other. Matthew realized they must have been the guard or some kind of force. Maybe one of them could help him. 

“‘Scuse me,” Matthew said. All the minotaurs in the group turned to look at him, some holding stern expressions, others raising their eyebrows and lowering their ears in confusion.

“I have a message for the queen. I was wondering where I could find her?” He held out his scroll for one of the minotaurs to look at. A minotaur with black fur and a light snout in the front of the group took the scroll, opened it, skimming over the scroll. He mooed at a larger minotaur, probably the captain of that brigade, and pointed to something on the scroll for them to read, making some sign with one hand. The big minotaur snorted, took the scroll, rolled it up, and pushed it into a third minotaur’s chest, one with dark brown fur and dark brown eyes. The captain then signed something to this minotaur, to which this minotaur bowed his head in understanding, and walked up to Matthew, staring at him with an expectant expression. Matthew’s eyes wandered, feeling a little uncomfortable and unsure of what was going on, an engraving on his armor caught Matthew’s eye. On the left side of his chest, was the name PAUL carved into the metal. 

“Paul?” Matthew asked, “your names Paul?”  The minotaur snorted and shrugged. 

“Well… I’m going to call you that, if that’s alright.” 

“Mooo!” Paul said, giving a nod of approval. The captain gave Paul a gentle shove forward. Paul flinched, gave the captain a slightly irritated look, before walking behind Matthew and placing a strong, heavy hand on his shoulder. He began walking, forcing the messenger forward with him. 

“Oh! You’re gonna take me to her?” he asked. 

Paul snorted and nodded in response. Matthew smiled to himself, feeling a little bit relieved that he now had a guide and wouldn’t get lost. Also, he felt a little comforted by Paul’s hand on his shoulder, and it reminded him of his father guiding him through his city as a child. Perhaps Paul was just doing his job, but Matthew felt like he made a friend. Others around him always criticized him for being too trusting, too naive at times, but the world seemed so much nicer when he had a positive outlook like that. 

Heat like the hot summer sun touched his face and the skin around his nose. He looked at his nose and found that the surface of his nose ring appeared to take on the texture of molten metal, giving off a dim golden glow. He raised his eyebrows, and gave Paul a concerned glance. 

“H-hey Paul, is this normal?” he asked gesturing to the glowing nose ring. Paul’s eyes widened and he let out a surprised grunt. Then his eyes narrowed and he gave a stern nod. Matthew raised an eyebrow, and then looked away from Paul, not feeling convinced about his answer, given his initial reaction. He looked back at his nose ring, examining this strange glow. It was pleasant to his eyes, like staring into a campfire. The warmth spread past his face, the aura of the ring surrounding his head like a hood, seeping into all of the muscles in his face, loosening them. His thoughts, once sharp, fast, and anxious, became fuzzier, and slower. He lost focus on his surroundings, the ring now at the forefront of his thoughts. In his daze, his irises brightened, going from brown to glowing gold. 

His nose felt the most warm, but his ears and temples also felt just as warm for some reason. He wasn’t exactly sure why. Unbeknownst to him, his nose began to twitch, and ever so slightly, the tip of his nose began to retract back, and the sides of his nose began to stretch outward to either side of his face, his nostrils flaring and expanding. Meanwhile, the cartilage near the top of his ears began to stretch while the middle and bottom of each ear grew thicker. This temporarily made his ears triangular, having a pointy tip. His temples began to swell, starting off as small bumps that made his head appear more square at the top, then protruded more prominently into points. His short, light brown hair grew longer and thicker, growing down to the back of his neck.

“Mooh…” Paul muttered, giving Matthew a gentle push. The nose ring stopped glowing; Matthew’s nose grew pointier again, his eyes turned brown, and his temples flattened themselves out. Still, his ears remained pointed, and his hair remained long.

Matthew blinked, finally realizing he had spaced out, and that now he had no idea where he was. He found that he was now in a wide open room instead of a narrow hallway, made of some matte black stone. There were many long wooden tables with wooden benches, and several minotaurs sat at them, eating from stone plates, either with their hands, or by leaning over and sticking their snouts into their meals. A group of minotaurs wearing aprons worked by a stone counter, some kneading dough, and throwing balls of dough into a brick oven, others cooking  meat, and wrapping the meat into balls of dough. 

Matthew stood before a minotaur with blond fur and bright blue eyes who was at this counter. The blond minotaur snorted and signed something to Matthew.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Matthew said, “I don’t-“ 

The minotaur put up a hand, and then gestured to a few different stone dishes with different meals on them. One of them was a ball of bread, another was a slab of some kind of meat, and a third appeared to be some kind of stew. 

Matthew had realized that this wasn’t the queen’s place, and that Paul lead him to the wrong location, but he also couldn’t resist the food. It all looked so good. 

“That one, please!” he said, pointing to the bread ball. The minotaur slid the dish across the counter. Paul signed something to the minotaur, to which the minotaur nodded, and put a  a tall stone mug on the counter as well. Matthew looked inside, and saw a pale liquid. His face twitched with disgust, and then uncertainty as a thought crossed his mind. 

“This isn’t… from you, is it?” 

“Moo!” the blond minotaur grunted, shaking his head and scowling. 

“And it’s from… an actual cow, right?” 

The minotaur nodded. Matthew sighed with relief, before he grabbed the plate and the mug, and finding an empty table to sit at by the edge of the room. Paul sat down next to him with a bowl of stew, and immediately leaned into it. Slurping it up with his snout. Matthew chuckled at the Minotaur’s behavior, finding this aspect of their culture endearing. There was no need to be uptight and polite, they could eat however they wanted to!

Matthew’s teeth hurt when he first bit into his bread. The outside was so tough that he thought he may have broken a tooth, but the inside was immensely soft, and when he got a good taste of the filling his eyes widened. The bun was full of spicy peppers, a sweet sauce, and a meat that was salty, and had a dark sophisticated taste to it. It vaguely reminded him of pork, but it had more of the texture of chicken… duck! He had forgotten what it had tasted like because there was one other time he had eaten duck. The food to him was so exotic, so tasty that he immediately wanted to taste more, not stopping to swallow, eating with gusto. After a few bites, his tongue burned and his eyes watered from the spice, so he took a swig of milk. 

His nose ring lit up again, but this time he didn’t notice, being too focused on his food. Every bite of food he made his stomach bloat and gargle, thickened out his fingers, added more fat to his arms, thighs, sides, and his face. Every swig of milk caused his temples to swell once more, becoming huge bumps on the sides of his head, until they broke his skin, revealing a short shiny set of horns. The milk also made his bones thicker, and began to elongate his legs and his spine, causing dramatic growth in height. He started off with the table being up to his chest, but as he grew, he began to hunch over in order to eat. These changes to his physique made his clothes tight on him, where his shirt pressed against his chest and left his stomach and lower back completely exposed, while his pants, once baggy and long, became skin tight, and only went down to his shins. Both his shirt and his pants began to tear at the seams. 

His face underwent a more dramatic change than the first time, where the tip of his nose flattened against his face, but his nose as a whole broaden, becoming wide bump in the center of his face. His nostrils flared and expanded once more, growing farther apart, the center of his nose thickening out. As his nose got wider, the nose ring grew bigger as well. The front of his face grew darker, the skin growing rough and leathery, but also wet. 

His teeth thickened and grew stronger, allowing him to easily bite through the hard outer shell of the bread, and chew the duck more easily as well. The bump on the front of his face grew more square and began to push forward, and with it, his bottom jaw widened and stretched forward as well, his nose and mouth coming together into a short snout. 

Lots of sauce got all over his hands, staining his skin and darkening his palms. His fingers got stuck together, Where his index fingers couldn’t separate, nor could his pinky and ring fingers. Soon the space between them shrank, as excess skin grew between them, fusing them together, and leaving behind no seam, causing each hand to have three large fingers. 

Matthew’s bread ball was not very stable, and fell apart completely about halfway through eating it, so he leaned into his dish, and began to eat straight from the plate, just like the minotaurs did. As for his milk, instead of picking up the mug to drink it. he kept slurping it or lapping it up. When Paul was done with his meal, he looked over at Matthew and smirked. Once Matthew was done eating, he lifted his head from his dish, took a deep breath in and let out a snort. His eyes glazed over as he retreated back into his own mind, deep into his own thoughts. The food left him satisfied, but made him feel sleepy. Combined with the warm glow of the ring, his entire body began to feel warm and loose. 

Paul nudged Matthew, and all at once, the ring stopped glowing, and all these changes undid themselves, the big awkward half beast shrinking back down into a man. 

“Oh, sorry about that,” Matthew replied with a sheepish smile, “The food was so good… I kinda lost focus there, again.” 

Paul narrowed his eyes, and lowered his ears. Matthew’s smile faded. 

“What’s wrong?”

He looked down at himself, and his eyes widened when he saw all the tears in his clothing. 

“Oh geez, how did this happen?! Ugh… H-hey Paul, is there anywhere we can go to buy a change of clothes?” 

The minotaur thought for a moment and then shook his head. 

“No? What do you mean no? I can’t go around looking like this.” 

Paul glanced around the room, looked off to the side, and nodded his head upward. Matthew followed his gaze and saw he was looking at a minotaur who was wearing a covering around his waist but no shirt. Matthew scratched the back of his head. 

“Ohh… I dunno,” he said. “Do you really think I can pull that off? I’m not that strong… I don’t look as… cool as that guy.” 

Paul smiled at him, and gave him a thumbs up. He held the shoulders of Matthew’s shirt and slowly tore off his shirt, checking to see if the man would’ve resisted or protested. Matthew didn’t resist, and let Paul do his work, looking down at himself with uncertainty as he stood up. Paul then opened up the shirt and stretched it out so it appeared to be one long strip of fabric, and wrapped it around Matthew’s waist, tying it in the back. The man looked down at his new clothes with a smile. 

“Thanks…” he said with a sigh. He noticed his thoughts were slow, his head still felt fuzzy, and despite feeling a little more grounded, he still felt sleepy from all the food he just ate.  He shook his head, trying to wake himself up a little. 

“We should really go. We’re behind schedule. I think the queen would be waiting for us.”

The minotaur stood up, and placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder again. From his sleepiness, Matthew felt even more comforted by this than he did the first time, reminding him of the times his father would guide him to bed as a child. 

It didn’t take too much longer before Matthew found himself in a wide open room, with a crowd of bullheaded spectators all looking toward the center. Matthew snuck through the crowd to find a wide dirt circle in the center of the stone floor. Three minotaurs stood inside the dirt circle, two on opposite edges, and one in the center. The minotaur in the center shook a red cloth, and the two minotaurs on either side charged at each other, locked horns, and pushed each other, grunting and snorting as they struggled. Eventually, one of the minotaurs slipped on the dirt, and fell onto his back, causing the crowd to erupt in roaring cheers. Matthew was fascinated by this sport. While it was aggressive and required immense strength, it didn’t appear deadly.

He lifted his head, and noticed one a lone minotaur who sat on a big stone podium above the circle. She wore a blue robe with gold trimmings and a garland on her head. 

That must be the queen!

Matthew felt a sense of accomplishment followed by a deep sinking feeling, as he realized that the queen was focused on these games, and there was no reasonable way to get her attention. So close, yet so far. 

There was a snort behind him, and a heavy hand on his back shoved him forward into the ring. He looked behind himself to find Paul giving him an encouraging smile. 

“Paul, no!” He whispered. Matthew turned around to find a tall burly beast on the opposite end of the circle from him. His eyes widened with horrors. Electrifying chills buzzed across his skin. His heart fluttered and found himself only able to breathe in quick gasps. No matter how much air he took in, it didn’t feel like enough. 

But before he could panic any more, the minotaur in the center began to wave the red cloth. His nose ring glowed and began to expand, but he didn’t notice. He furrowed his brow, irritated by this gesture, this red thing in his way, making it impossible to focus. Anger engulfed him, fire crackling in his stomach and prickling at his skin. He took a sharp inhale. His chest expanded. His shoulders broadened. His spine stretched. His entire form doubled in size, growing in both height and weight, returning to the stature he attained back in that pavilion. 

He clenched his fists, his fingers fusing together once more to form a three fingered hand. HIs temples twitched as the bumps reformed themselves, and burst through the surface of his skin, snaking upwards into sturdy long horns. The tip of his nose stretched upward, the sides pushing outward as his nostrils flared, the front of his nose and his mouth both turning black as they stretched far forward. Once his nose and mouth finished shifting into a snout, Matthew unconsciously accentuated this change with a snort. 

A layer of skin on his back grew baggy and loose, before it stretched like clay, thinning into a point. A tuft if brown fur grew on the very end of it, forming a tail that swished with anger. His feet tensed up, and the bridge of his foot cracked within his shoes, and folded in on itself, a sharp pain causing him to grunt. His toes retracted backward and fused just like his fingers, the movement making the leather on his shoes contort in strange ways. Both of his feet grew wider and bigger the leather tightening around them, until his shoes burst in half, revealing a pair of bull’s hooves. He stepped back with one hoof, kicking up dust, readying himself to charge. 

When the minotaur pulled the cloth away. Matthew roared. He charged forward in a blind rage. Slam! Their horns struck each other and locked together. Matthew and the minotaur grabbed each other’s arms. They snorted. Growled. Shoved one another. During this tussle, Matthew’s arms and chest rippled. The baggy, heavy tissue on his arms, legs, and stomach all tightened, fat contracting as muscle expanded, at first subtle, then dramatically toned. His abs, pecs, biceps, triceps, hamstrings, quads, calves all swelled, glistening with sweat. 

But all of this change still wasn’t enough, for the other minotaur pushed off the ground with one of his hooves, and knocked Matthew over, pinning him to the ground. Matthew glared into the eyes beast, rage roaring in his chest, the intent to kill at the forefront of his mind. But the beast’s expression softened, and the minotaur pushed himself upward to stand, the roaring of the crowd knocking Matthew out of his rage induced high. 

Before he could fully recall where he was or what he was doing, his transformation began to regress once more. His nose snout turned pale and retracted back, becoming a human nose and a mouth once more, but this time his nose was broader than before. His tail shrank and fused with the skin on his back, while his hooves softened, and stretched outward, splitting into five different toes on each foot, while his fingers split in a similar way. His muscles shrank, and his form grew shorter and thinner, however, not quite as short and thin as he began. And finally, his horns shrank, retracting back into his head, but didn’t completely disappear, leaving behind two pointy nubs on each temple. 

Matthew’s eyes widened, as he tried to recall the last minute. There was so much anger, and so many flashes horns, fists, and an angry minotaur’s face. There were loud grunts and roars… so much energy rushing through his veins. Matthew tried to piece it all together, but none of it fitted, and none of it made sense. Some other primal force had taken over, and this fight, this anger, this fear, this raw emotion… it felt incredible. 

“Did… I really just fight him?” Matthew muttered, still lying on the floor. 

A familiar face came into view, staring down at him with wide happy eyes. 

“You!” Matthew growled at Paul. He pushed himself up to stand and glared at the guard. Paul seemed a little bit shorter to Matthew, but the man brushed that thought to the side, latching onto his own anger. 

“What were you thinking pushing me in there?!” Matthew shouted. “I could’ve died!” 

Paul raised an eyebrow, the side of his snout drawing backward in a smirk. Matthew felt he could read the intention of this smirk, just given the context. 

But you didn’t die, did you? Paul must have been thinking. 

The man was about to yell at the minotaur some more when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye: the queen, and a couple of guards were walking away from this arena, heading down another corridor of the maze. 

“Oh no,” Matthew muttered. “We can’t lose her now, we just found her! C’mon!” The man trotted to the hallway, Paul following close behind, but by the time they entered the corridor, the queen seemed to have vanished. 

“Shoot… Paul do you know where they’re going?” 

Paul snorted and nodded. 

“Great… You lead the way, again.” 

As they wandered through the maze, the hallways grew harder and harder to navigate. Forks in the road grew more frequent, turns became sharper and sharper. At one point they walked in a circle and somehow ended up in a different hallway. They zig-zagged left then right then left then right, and each time he thought there was a pattern, they would turn in the opposite direction than he thought. All the twisting and turning felt like too much for his brain. Then… the nose ring began to glow once more, and the confusion grew tenfold. 

However, if confusion was the attempt and failure to comprehend an idea, then the confusion dissipated suddenly, for there was no longer an attempt. All that was there was an observation that he didn’t understand, and suddenly, he didn’t need to. He didn’t understand what it meant to understand. There were only patterns twisting and turning in his mind, ideas impossible for him to comprehend, and letting all of it swirl in his mind was dizzying, intoxicating… it tickled his mind and amused him. He found himself lost in the labyrinths, and accepted the unknown paths he went down, just turning… and turning… and turning… and turning… and-

“Moo!” 

Paul snapped Matthew back to reality once more. Matthew managed a sheepish smile, and began to take in his surroundings, but couldn’t fully come to, his mind still swirling from his trance moments prior. His eyes stung as bright white light reflected off the marble walls. In front of him were many different shiny accessories, what Matthew assumed to be items purely made for vanity.

“Paul?” Matthew mumbled, slurring his words. “This isn’t the qu-” 

He trailed off as Paul gestured to the objects in front of him, trapezoidal prisms made of various different metals on display in wooden cases, each of them tied to a fabric loop. Sluggishly, Matthew pointed to the one that looked like gold, for this shiny metal caught his eye. When Paul lifted it up, another piece of metal from within hit the side, creating a resonant bong! 

“Mmmm,” he muttered. The sound reverberated in his head, acting like a weight on his brain, making his thoughts static, making him feel similar to the way he felt wandering the maze moments earlier, but also… even though he was angry and energized back at the fight, it felt the same as that, too. It was the exact same mental state, except much, much, much slower. Same thoughtlessness, same lack of comprehension, same… brutishness.

Paul lifted the metal prism, this bell, and swung it back and forth. 

Bong! Da-dong! Da-dong! Da-dong! 

Matthew’s irises glowed gold once more, his pupils dilating as he followed the cowbell with his eyes. Every swing was like another turn in the labyrinth, like another bite of the food he had earlier, bringing him both deeper into confusion, and into calm. His thoughts blended together, slurring into nonsense, while his calm doubled with each swing, bringing him into a state of peace and bliss he couldn’t imagine before. 

Every toll of the bell was like a birdsong to his ears, the tone buzzing in his mind, soothing his brain, weighing on it, shrinking his thoughts so brutish sluggishness could reign. The ringing in his mind brought about a giddy joy, the kind one would get from singing a happy tune. This joy was so vibrant and so pure, that it was impossible to think of anything else, impossible to recall anything else. Why would he want to remember another time when this is the happiest moment he’s ever had? He let go of these memories, letting them slip deep into the recesses of his mind, allowing himself to remember nothing, to know nothing. 

After the cowbell rang for a while, his ears began to perk up. The pointy tips of his ears drooped, muscle growing all around his ears. Then, the tips of his ears stretched outward away from his head, while the sides of his ears curled inward, cupping the sound of the bell, and taking it in even more. Once his ears were done changing, they protruded outward. They were thick, rounded on the edges, pointed at the tip, and had the muscles to move however he wanted. He raised them up to listen to the bell, and then curled them back passively. 

The minotaur tapped Matthew’s nose ring and continued to swing the bell, causing the bell to ring and the ring to glow, filling Matthew’s ears with a sweet resonant tone, and his eyes with a warm golden glow. Matthew wanted to keep standing there and just take it all in, but a heavy wave of drowsiness took hold. His eyelids grew heavy and he fought to keep his eyes open, to stay awake, but eventually decided it would be safe to simply blink… to close his eyes for… just… one… moment…

When Matthew opened his eyes, he found himself kneeling on a black cushion, in a room decorated with black curtains with starry speckles. His nose ring was still glowing, his muscles all still felt heavy, but there was now an unfamiliar weight around his neck. In front of him stood a minotaur who wore a bright robe and a flower crown. 

The queen!

Paul stepped into view and passed the queen Matthew’s scroll. Matthew felt a brief bout of relief, feeling his job was complete, but his heart sank as the queen took one glance at the inside of the scroll and ripped it to shreds. Panic attempted to break through him, but his trance was still too deep. She looked at Matthew quizzically, and signed to Paul. To Matthew’s surprise, Matthew could now understand what she was saying. 

‘Him?’ she asked, ‘he’s the weakling who lost the fight.’

‘True,’ Paul signed back, ‘but the ring has changed him, and rings don’t make mistakes. He needs a full assimilation.’ 

Matthew’s stomach lurched. 

“W-wait,” he mumbled, slurring his words. “What do you mean as-“

The queen leaned forward and swiped her hand underneath Matthew’s chin. There was a loud ‘bong!’ making him realize what the weight around his neck was. The cowbell’s whirring hums and overtones weaved into the threads of his mind, making him feel calm, and quickly taking him back into a thoughtless state of deep calm. 

‘That’s it,’ she signed. ‘There’s no need to worry. I’m here to protect you, to care for you.’ 

Matthew blinked slowly. His heart slowed down but felt much lighter, feeling safe and cared for. His pupils dilating as his face showed an expression of genuine love. 

‘There’s no need to think, for I’m here to herd you. I know better than you… a bull-man.’

“B-bull man? But you’re the-“

She grabbed a hold of Matthew’s nose ring and began to tug it forward. Matthew’s nose began to stretch, growing bigger and bigger, the top of his nose becoming flat while the sides pushed outward, his mouth joining to meet his nose, beginning to form a snout. 

‘That’s what you are, right?’ the queen continued, singing with one hand. ‘you’re just a bull man, and what does a bull man say?’

She tugged the ring forward, the front of Matthew’s nose and mouth turning black, while his new snout stretched far forward. His two nub horns shot out from his skull, curving upward. His skull shrank and his eyes moved farther apart to make room for his snout. 

“Mroooor…” Matthew muttered. He felt good about himself after this, as if somehow he had accomplished something. He heard Paul snort in the background, but Matthew felt this was no laughing matter. This moment felt sacred, for it was his true expression of loyalty to the queen.

‘Very good! You’re a bull man, a simple, cattle brained beast. Mindless, loyal, docile toward me, but unforgiving toward your enemies.’

She pat him on the head, on the top of his snout, and rubbed the sides of his face as she told him this. Matthew shut his eyes and hummed his heart fluttering at these affectionate gestures. It brought about a familiar nostalgic feeling, although there was nothing he could associate this feeling with, for his memories were trapped deep within his mind. What he did know, however, was that the queen made him feel this way, and that he felt safe and felt loved when the queen did this. 

The skin on his back became loose once again, stretching out, and forming a hairy tail, this time wagging back and forth out of joy rather than anger. Little did he know that the queen’s gestures were adding fur to his snout, as many light brown hairs pricked up through his follicles, and grew out until all the skin on his face, his neck, and the back of his ears were covered in light brown fur, just like the hair on his head.

She placed a finger on the center of his chest. The bull man’s eyes widened and watered as a distant memory tried to surface in his mind. He knew this gesture. It was a sign that she loved him, that she would always be there for him, and that he could hold her in his heart… Or at least that’s what he thought the queen was doing, not noticing the way his muscles grew and his chest expanded. Seeing Matthew’s expression, however, the queen sympathetically gave him a gentle pat on the snout, to which Matthew shut his eyes briefly and hummed. 

‘One last thing… sit down for me.’ 

Matthew leaned back from his kneeling position, and sat so his feet were in front of him.  The queen grabbed each of his ankles, stretching his legs out. The hair on his legs grew thicker, extra layers of brown fur crawling down each of his legs up to his feet. She then took one foot at a time, squeezing each one, his flesh moving like clay, folding his foot inward, squeezing his toes together, and fashioning a groove in the middle. The flesh on each of his feet hardened and darkened to form cloven hooves. This time, unlike the first time, the change was painless. Naive as he was before, Matthew saw this gesture as a sign of love as well, as she was helping him get ready to walk. It was something humans always did as well. What was it called? “Tying someone’s shoes?” He wasn’t sure what it meant but he was pretty sure that someone doing this for someone else meant that they cared about them. 

Matthew looked down at himself, admiring his new form. He flexed his muscles, wagged his tail, stomped his hooves, and pat his snout with a three fingered hand. He mooed in delight, feeling at home in both his body and his environment. The cowbell rang with every little movement he made, but the effects of it weren’t as mind numbing anymore, instead bringing about calm alone. 

‘Take all the time you need to get acquainted,’ the queen signed. ‘Afterward, I want you to get armor on and serve on the guard… And you don’t need to act brainless if you don’t want to. That was just an exercise in trance.’ 

“Moooo!” Matthew replied, nodding curtly to the queen. It was fun replying with a long ‘moo.’ He wanted it to be his new catchphrase. 

While Matthew had so much he could’ve done, so much he wanted to do in that moment, there was one thing at the forefront of his mind. He turned to Paul, and signed: 

‘Do you wanna grab something else to eat?’