The walk to the hideout seemed longer that evening. Chris and John were feeling exhilarated after their sexual experience and were actively soaking up the scents of the forest. Every once and a while, they would peek down into their pants and look at the furry sheaths they now sported. John wondered where he had seen genitals like that before.
Every few minutes, Chris would stop at one of the trees he was sniffing and put his new penis to use dropping some urine on it. John didn't say anything but couldn't resist the urge to take a whiff of his best friend's urine soaking into the bark. It was comforting to smell his partner's strength and courage. Chris always knew what to do it seemed. John followed close behind him and occasionally built up the nerve to accompany one of Chris's markings with a quick piss of his own. It just smelled right for their scents to go together like they did.
Black fur was growing on their nose and around their mouths, with tan fur sprouting further back on their face, but John didn't say anything about that for now. He couldn't hold his peace anymore, when the growth of their ears reached a stage that just couldn't be ignored.
"Chris ... Chris, your ears ..."
"Well? What about them?"
"They're--they're--big and pointy and fuzzy and--"
John wanted to say they looked like animal ears. He was still having trouble piecing it all together, though. Chris reached up and felt the tall broad triangles sticking out of the top and sides of his face. He'd noticed he'd felt a strength and flexibility he didn't have up there before, and it had been accompanied by the sounds of the forest coming alive with birds and animals and the distant rustling of plants. Chris hadn't seen his muscular ears twisting and turning to navigate his auditory surroundings, but John had.
"Okay, so my ears are ... bigger, and a little more weirdly shaped, but ... (sniff, sniff) ... Why the fuck are you so scared, John?"
"Look how big and pointed they are, and all that brown fuzz on the back. Surely you can see it's not normal?"
Chris stubbornly doubled down. A very small part of him was as worried as John was, but they'd made a living off off things that weren't normal, taking risks and reaping the rewards, and Chris wasn't going to rethink his lifestyle over cosmetics.
"I can't see my own ears, John, but yes they feel different. And I can see that yours are just as brown and fuzzy as mine but drooped down weirdly over the side of your head. But isn't your hearing better like mine?"
John didn't want to say that he'd been tugging at his big floppy ears for the last five minutes, but he could admit that he could hear way more than usual.
"I guess so, Chris, but--"
"But what?"
John dropped the suggestion like a bombshell: "Don't you remember the stories about that woman and the witchcraft and the curse on people who screw her over? I mean, what if something bad is happening to us, something we can't control?"
Chris rolled his eyes.
"Ugh, not this again. Look, John, why would some old bitch curse us with hotter sex and better hearing? You're always looking at the negative of things. Look at it this way: in a single day, we hit the jackpot, we became men all over again, and now we're more sensitive to sounds and smells around us than any thieves we've met. We've struggled for so long even though we're the biggest and baddest bros in the valley, and now we've made it. We deserve this! And as for our weird faces, well I won't enter any beauty contests if you won't."
John sighed. "I guess you're right."
"Have I ever led you wrong yet, buddy?"
John shook his head no.
"Alright then, let's get going."