You sense their presence before you hear the knock on the door. A scent wafts in from outside as you bolt upright, staring at the door. No, not a scent...scents. There are three, two that fill your heart with joy and a third that nearly overpowers you, strong and steady, something that smells like...like home. You open the door shakily.
"Mama!" cries a voice, and you are nearly knocked to the ground by a tiny force. It's a small, dark-skinned girl, no older than three or four, dressed in a neat green dress, with a ribbon in her hastily braided hair. She hugs your knees and beams at you, babbling too fast to be understood. "Mama mama mama! You look different but you smell the same and I remember you and papa said that you'd remember me because you're mama and mamas always know and and and do you like my ribbon? I like human things mama they're so neat ooh is this your terrer tory, mama? It's smaller than ours but it smells like you and you're here and it's you and oh...mama please don't go away again I've missed you so much!" You blink, overwhelmed by the onslaught of verbiage. Part of you wants to shove the girl away...you're a man and you are no one's mama. But there is something in her big, golden-brown eyes that calls to you, and if you look closely, you can see your nose, your smile, the dimple of your chin on her chin. Your hand reaches out on it's own, running a hand through her hair.
"Safiyeh!" A voice calls and your head shoots up. "You must forgive her" says the tall, powerfully built man walking up your driveway, "she has been waiting for this day for some time."
He wears a white suit with the confident ease of a runway model and wears his hair long, pulled tight in ponytail made of an intricate pattern of dreadlocks. He balances another child on his hip, as unmistakably Safiyeh's twin as both girls are unmistakably his, his features stamped on them in miniature. He is a breathtaking sight.
"Safiyeh's always been running ahead of me. I can barley keep up with her," he says, reaching down to ruffle his daughter's head. "Atalanta's always been a little more shy," he says, shifting the girl on his hip. "Will you say hello, Lanta?" You expect the child to bury her face in his neck, shaking her head, or begin to cry. Instead she just shares at you, her eyes bright. Every inch of you screams to take her from his arms, to hold her and never let her go. And so you do and she twines around her neck as if she was born to be there. It is madness, a rational part of you thinks, and you turn a panicked stare at the smiling man on your doorstep.
"It...you....you're the...." you swallow. "You're...human!"
"No," he says, smily widely. "I remain as I am, as you know me. But we can be human when we want to be. That is why I was not here sooner, actually. I had to wait until the girls were big enough to make the change."
"But it's only been a day!" you cry, desperate to avoid the impossible before you. "How could they be so big?"
"Time moves differently in this world." He says, quietly. "Sometimes faster, sometimes slower. A year can go by here and we will only see a day. Or sometimes we shall see twenty years come and go before this world is a minute older. Was it three hours we were together, or was it three months?" You open your mouth to reply and find you don't know the answer. He smiles at you, sadly. "I am glad the worlds have worked in my favor. I would never have forgiven myself if I had never gotten the opportunity to come back to you."
"...what?", you mutter, confused and flushed.
"I was young. Foolish," he says haltingly. "too young to make a crossing and find a mate. I saw your potential, but once the cubs arrived I was restless. Afraid of what could be. So I let you go, and have regretted it ever since. I have taken several other wives, of course," he says, quite matter-of-factly. "I have a proper pride now. But there has always been someone missing from it, and my wives agree: it has always been you."
"You...this is impossible."
He smiles, as if he has not heard you, and takes a step closer. You are practically in his arms now. Your head is swimming from the scents surrounding you. The scent of family. "Please. Come back. Be my mate. I need you. And my children need a mother."
"I can't be their mother!"
"You already are."
"I'm a man!" You cry desperately. The children are clinging to you tightly.
"We both know that is no longer true" he says quietly. He gently rubs the side of your face. "You know what you feel. You are neither male nor man. Not inside."
"I'm....I can't..."
"Mama..." a small voice whispers. Atalanta looks at you with wide golden eyes. "Don't leave me again. Please?" Something in you breaks. You hold her tighter, drawing her into your neck, and with your other hand you reach down to embrace Safiyeh tightly. You stare, helpless and overwhelmed, at the man in front of you. He blinks back tears of joy as he meets your gaze.
"Please. Come back to me. To our children."
And you know your answer.
"No..." you say "not our children. Our cubs."
His arms fold around you and your cubs. He kisses your forehead. You feel a tingle where his lips have touched you. It all happens quickly. You shrink and dwindle, loosing three inches and many pounds. Your hips shift outward, your waist tightens. Your breasts swell to a generous size, your ass plumps out to the shape of a heart. Your face shifts and rounds, your nose broadens, your skin darkens until it is the same shade as your daughters' chocolate complexion. Your hair grows long and forms tight springy curls, forming a large afro before settling into an elegant twist. Your clothes shift to a brightly patterned dress, and you stand barefoot, clutching your cubs and looking adoringly at your mate, and you know this skin is only one of several ways you can choose to look, and that soon you will be cuddling your daughters in much larger arms, standing well on nine feet tall and covered in fur. Or perhaps you will be running through the savannah on all fours, Or perhaps you and your mate will stay as you are for a while, explore the tender affection humanity affords. All will happen soon enough. You have sister wives to meet, pray to hunt, and children to love. Soon, you know, there will be more cubs, and you can almost feel your breasts (only two at the moment, and you can't wait for the rest to come back) fill with milk at the thought. You kiss your mate and hug your daughters tightly. He takes Safiyah by the hand and gives his arm to you, and you leave your old life behind without a word, without even closing the door to what was once your house, your tail lashing contentedly behind you. His emerges and entwines with yours. Your new home awaits.