Anthony’s dreaming took him far from his bedroom. Far from civilisation really, no sign of buildings, roads, any kind of presence of humanity at all. And there he was, happily grazing away without a care in the world in the wide field on the warm day, no predators in sight, with more than sufficient space to be alerted keeping him at ease, if still on the lookout.
How much time passed, Anthony neither knew nor cared, but at some point, he realised he was no longer alone. Another donkey, a Jenny, not too far away, upwind of him, the scent of her Heat carried by the cooling breeze towards his waiting nostrils. Already the effects kicking in, the Urge, the Drive activating and sending him to her with vocal brays.
She heard Anthony and slowly, the two approached, only to be interrupted by the challenging brays of another. No! He would not let her be taken by this newcomer! Facing him in challenge, he…
____________
…Woke up in his bed with a start, awkwardly pushing himself up, something about him feeling off.
In truth, throughout the night he’d advanced further, grey-brown hairs (but mainly grey) over his arms, legs, chest and back. Ears far longer now and perched higher on his head that was pushed out, the beginnings of a muzzle forming atop a widened torso.
“Nngh, c’monhaaW!” Simply dressing proved problematic, Anthony’s favoured clothes refusing to fit no matter what he tried.
Several torn garments later and he was forced to settle for an large shirt with some denim overalls, and even they took some effort to get on. The shirt barely fitting and the overalls cutting into his legs and shoulders. No footwear that he could squeeze his stiff swollen feet into, even having to make do without underwear.
Finally willing to hobble unsteadily down the stairs, Anthony was quick to realise that he was the only one in the house, a check of the kitchen giving him the reason why:
Anthony
You’re Father & I have headed out to take care of the shopping, dinner is in the fridge.
Will be back late evening.
Most of the day to himself then, even if it was approaching 11am already, and his stomach was ordering him back outside to finish what he started.
Nearly an hour of peaceful grazing passed by, more dirt patches to show off his handiwork, though said hands were looking distinctly off now, blackened at the ends and spreading up his fingers, his feet clearly hooves that could just about take his weight and balance him for his return into the house.
“Why’d I put theeeh HAAwwn?” Something in Anthony’s mind was telling, nay, ordering him to strip himself down, rid himself of his human trappings (several buttons of his shirt having already been torn loose) and embrace his REAL nature.
That same something in turn instructing him to take care of his ‘business’ with his bowels where and when needed. And to leave this place. He belonged not in a oppressive building, but outside, where the grass was plentiful - indeed, the dirt he’d spat out made clear to Anthony that the small garden was unsuited to his dietary needs. And all trying to override his more rational side that did battle with these invasive demands.
Finally, Anthony…