Looking back, I can think of lots of smart things I could have done. Getting my bearings should have been a priority. If I found any tattered remains of my clothes, they’d have pointed me back to the path. Failing that, I could have found it by walking in an outward spiral. My backpack, too, might have been a good call. It didn’t contain much that would be of use at that exact moment, but they were all the supplies I had. It also contained the rest of the leaves.
I know it seems dense that I didn’t connect my unexpected transformation with the leaves. But as far as I remembered, all the leaves had done was put me to sleep, just as the old woman had said they would. There was no mystery there. Sedative drugs existed in my worldview already. Becoming a bear didn’t. The thought just never entered my mind.
I’m not proud. I freaked out. I wanted to cry or scream but my mouth only made low grunts and snarls. To fight my frustration, I ran.
Running on four legs felt perfectly natural to me. The wind rushed through my fur, the cool earth sank beneath my heavy paws. My massive heart beat like thunder in my muscular chest. This was what this body was made for. It was oddly soothing. Now I was focused on running, my panic faded. It didn’t leave me completely, but I was able to think straight again.
I slowed to a halt. The run had calmed me but now I realised what a bad move it had been. I had covered a fair distance and was even deeper in the forest. I could try to retrace my steps, but I doubted I’d recognise my starting point.
I walked. I wasn’t like I could get any more lost, so I just picked a direction and stuck with it. It was a simple task, but focusing on it kept me calm. And the walk wasn’t unpleasant. If I had to be lost in the woods, there were worse things to be than a bear. So I had that going for me.
After a time, my stomach began to ache. That one granola bar I’d eaten wasn’t enough to sustain my new bulk. As I walked, I found myself sniffing around for berries and mushrooms to eat. My nose was far better at picking up scents than it used to be and somehow I knew instinctively what was food and what was poisonous.
The trees thinned a little and I came upon the lake. The crystal surface reflected the dazzling blue of the sky, glittering sunlight picked out on its subtle ripples. My mood picked up. I had reached the destination I’d set out for that morning. I still wasn’t certain which way led back to my car, but this was progress.
I sniffed. I could smell fish. Berries and mushrooms were all well and good but I wanted a proper meal. I waded out into the shallows of the lake, enjoying the cool water lapping against my paws. A little ways out, I stopped. And waited.
Before long, I saw the fish. There were two or three, exploring among the pebbles and reeds. They ventured closer and closer, but even when they were in reach I did not move. Then, at long last, one was just a bit too bold. I snapped. Splashes of water flew upwards. The other fish scattered but my teeth closed around my prey. In only a couple of chews, I swallowed. It occurred to me to be disgusted, but I’d never tasted anything so satisfying. There’s nothing like food you’ve hunted yourself.
My huge ears twitched. There was a campsite on the lakeside, some ways off, but I could see a family of campers watching me, speaking in hushed tones. One raised a camera-phone. Feeling wary, I disappeared back into the trees.
But I kept close to the lake, since it was the only landmark I knew. There was bound to be a path nearby and maybe a sign that might direct me. But I kept getting distracted by the scent of food and wandered off to follow it. Eating was a priority. I had to bulk up if I was to survive hibernation in the winter.
That thought gave me pause. I didn’t want to still be a bear in winter. Even if I found a path and got back to my car, it wasn’t like I could drive it. I needed to reverse this change and fast. But I had no idea what had caused it. I had less idea how to find out.
So I continued bulking up for winter. It was the only problem I could even try to solve and making any progress felt better than none. And it wasn’t hard. Life as a bear was simple, straightforward and not exactly unpleasant. I was dimly aware that I was as good as accepting my fate. I’d come out here to escape my human life and spend some time alone. I’d gotten my wish.
I slumped against a tree. I wasn’t depressed exactly, but a melancholy had set in. I laid down on the cold earth and tried to forget being a bear, which is kind of difficult when you are one. Everything seemed pointless. The sun was still high but I found my eyes drooping. My instincts told me now was a good time for a nap. Keep myself alert during the night, the best time for hunting. I grumbled irritably and let myself go.
I was in the dream forest again.
This time was different. The trees were more crooked and solid, more like actual trees, and there were leaves and shrubs on the ground too. Also, I was still a bear. And yet I recognised the purplish gloom and the sky of impossible stars. And in one go the memory hit me. The leaves. The dream. The lake. I’d reshaped myself into a bear! I’d done this to myself! And I could undo it too.
I ran through the trees, thundering with my new four-legged speed. The lake appeared much sooner this time, and not just because I was faster. Still, the sight of it slowed me to a halt. I was still in awe of it.
As I stepped out onto the bank, the image of a proud, grizzly bear appeared gigantic in its depths. My new body.
A wave of relief hit me. The change wasn’t permanent. I could control it, even if my waking mind wouldn’t remember. And it occurred to me that I could do more than just change myself back to human. If that was what I wanted.