Certainly, he'd dreamed of being able to become into a fairy. But never in any of his imagined scenarios had he ever wanted to be stuck as a fairy, as in each one, he'd always had a way to become his old self. Looking down at his breasts, watching as they moved subtly as he breathed, he sighed as he though how he also never fantasised about being a naked female fairy, and each time he'd created the mental images, he'd been a male fairy. Questioning his wish, he wondered why he'd specified a ring to transform into Taline. Deciding after a bit it was because she was the prominent character in a lot of his stories, Lorkin told himself he had two choices, mope about and do nothing, or work out a way to not be a what he now was.
The immediate problem he saw with the second option was he didn't know how. Yeah, the ring was supposed to turn him into Taline Cloudfeet, but it was also supposed to return him to who he was before. But the thing he now realised was this was implied, which meant he only wished for once half of what he intended. Gazing down at the ring, wings flapping in consternation, he soon grew agitated with the piece of jewellery. Not stopping to think what he was doing, he pulled it off his finger, cussing, "Damn fucking magic," as he did, and tossed it away.
From somewhere far off, he heard the tink sound as it hit a couple of the stone steps, then silence, which left him to believe it had probably landed in the grass. Sitting back done on his clothes, he drew his legs up and wrapped an arm around them. Hugging them, feeling his full breasts pressed into them, this and everything else overwhelmed him. Truth hitting home how he might be stuck as he was, he was unable to stop himself as he started to cry. Lying down after some time and rolling up as best as he could in his shirt, he wanted to do nothing else by remain where he was. Knowing also this wasn't an option, he instead wracked his mind as he attempted to work out a solution. Coming to decide throwing away the ring probably hadn't been the best thing to do, he sighed and muttered, "Might as well go find it," and pushing himself up, he flapped his wings and took to the air.
It still not easy for him to move about with a pair of wings, Lorkin tried his best anyway. Zipping in the direction he'd tossed the object, he slowed as best as he could when he reached the stone stairs. Dropping down a bit, he scanned the area, and after some time, felt as if he was almost being drawn to a specific location.
"Like a magnet being pulled to a piece of iron," he mused as he drifted in the direction he felt he needed to go.
Something inside him drawing him on, it didn't take him long to figure out it was something about the ring. Picking it up out of the long grass, he slipped it back on and peered at it. The thing looking exactly as it had before, he wondered why he was drawn to it. "Something to do with the magic of it?" he speculated as he lifted off the ground and started to make his way back to the well and his clothes. Stopping at the top step, he landed as best as he could as he saw both his discarded clothes and the well and an idea came suddenly came to him.
Not sure it'd work, but wanting it to, he whispered, "Of course. If the well did this, it can undo it," and with a glance down at the ring, more of his planning taking shape, he did a combination run and fly manoeuvre over to the pile of garments.
Slowing as he approached them, Lorkin found himself confronted by the challenge of his current size versus how big he'd used to be. Trying to pull the shirt away, he found it was one thing to take a part of it and use it to cover himself, but it was something else when attempting to move the whole thing. Frustrated when it became clear he wouldn't be able to pull the shirt away from his pants, he walked in a circle around the things. Trying to see the problem from a fresh angle, Lorkin soon saw what he believed he'd have to do. Guessing as to how his pants were lying under the shirt, he moved over to a point where his back was more to the woods than either stairs or the well, and stepping closer, he proceeded to attempt to crawl under the shirt.
The closeness of everything, as well as the way it all pressed down on it, getting to him, he stopped after a bit and took a couple deep breaths. Trying to calm himself, he discovered in the process something interesting about being Taline, which was she was a being of wide, open spaces, perfect for flying, and as such, could go into confined spaces, but didn't like to, as they hampered her movement and prevented her from spreading her wings. Thinking about this, whilst at the same time trying not to think about what was above him, pushing down on him, Lorkin soon pressed on. Reaching the area of his jeans were his front, right pocket would be, he was confronted by the next challenge. Wanting out, no longer able to stand being in such a confined space, he found he couldn't stand it any longer, and against his own desires of trying to get something from his pocket, he wiggled back the way he'd come.
Outside, he stood, stretched, and enjoyed the cool air against his naked body as he flapped his wings. Annoyed by Taline's dislike of enclosed spaces, and his own need to have written such a flaw into the character, Lorkin glanced over his shoulder. Knowing he'd have to eventually go back in, he found himself procrastinating as he told himself, "It can wait a bit," then started making up excuses.
Able to see them for what they were after a bit, he heaved a sigh and forced himself to turn around. His pivot more of a graceful pirouette, he peered at the opening he'd made on his first foray. Thankful the clothing hadn't shifted and he wouldn't have to make another, he stepped closer and squatted down. Still unable to bring himself to re-enter, he shivered, and not because of the air. Wings flapping in a lazy manner, he soon forced them to go still, then made them lay flay against his back. Seeing he had no other choice, he whispered, "Here goes nothing," and still surprised to hear a woman speaking everything he said anything, he lay down flat on his belly as he crawled back toward the pocket of his jeans.
How long and how many tries it took him, Lorkin wasn't sure. His mind constantly rebelling against him, insisting he was a someone not meant to be doing what he was doing, he had to fight against such errant thoughts, make himself press on, though he wasn't always successful and would often find himself standing outside next to his clothes. Wings and breasts also causing him delays, he found he had to stop a number of times to straighten out his wings, which would pop up and attempt to move, causing him to painfully catch them on the fabric above him, or, if not the issue with the appendages on his back, he found having his chest sticking out repeatedly made him have to shift in order to accommodate the addition to his front, with the biggest issue being how great, and distracting, it felt when the fabric of his jeans rubbed against his nipples. When he at last did reach his pocket, and managed to keep himself from backing out, he was at first relieved, then stymied as he realised he had no idea how to get anything out of him. Looking at his jeans, thinking, he tried to push his hand in, but found the fabric to stiff and heavy for him to lift or move.
Not wanting to give up, not after when he saw he was so close, nor after what he'd gone through, Lorkin frowned. Looking about, wondering if he could approach from a different angle, "Maybe get at the pocket from inside my jeans," he reasoned at one point, he tried again to work his hand inside. When this failed, he made sure his wings were flat against his back and tried to wiggle his way inside.
This apparently too much for him to take, he was overcome with a wave of panic, and before he could stop himself, Lorkin was once more standing outside. Stretching, unfolding his wings, allowing them to flap ever so gently, he relished at the wide, open space, all as his mind insisted he was someone who needed to fresh air, needed to push away from the earth, and ride the backs of any number of winds. Stepping daintily away from his clothes, he flapped his wings, and felt relieved to be out of the confined space his clothes now created. Rising off the ground with a bit more ease than the last time, it still took him a bit to work out and get accustomed to the sensation of being in the air.
But once he had, Lorkin discovered as he closed his eyes and hovered a moment a freedom he’d never known. Opening his eyes, he looked about, then flew up and alighted on the lip of the well. Peering down at his clothes, he found himself amazed at how he’d never given much thought about them, how tight parts of them could be, and, now he was a little over an inch tall, how they must seem to something so much smaller than what he’d been. Thinking about this, listening to the sounds of the forest around him, he enjoyed the freedom he had, yet, at the same time, was scared, alert, and on guard for anything which would see him as prey. Running his hands down his body, taking in how his body now felt beneath his finger tips, he understood how it’d be easy for him to fall victim to a predator, as his soft skin didn’t offer much protection. Trying to not let this bother him, he stepped over to the other side and gazed down into the well and furrowing his brow, tried to bully his brain into coming up with another idea.
His movements graceful as he started to pace, he soon grew restless. Rising upward, he looked around at the wooded area, and overcome with a sensation he’d never expected to have to deal with, he couldn’t help himself as he giggled, “Well, it was inevitable.”
The sound of his laughter light, feminine, and almost music to his ears, he found himself dwelling on it for a moment as he flew towards a tree. Locating a suitable leaf, his thoughts turning back to the predicament he was faced with, he glanced about, and spotting an ideal spot for what he was about to do, Lorkin swooped downward and landed on the ground close to the tree’s roots. Squatting down to pee, still mulling over the issue at hand, he shredded the leaf and when he was finished emptying his bladder, he used the torn-up bits of foliage as toilet paper to wipe himself. Stepping away, he peered out at the now much larger world, and after a moment, he shivered as the unwanted notion, “Am I trapped as a fairy,” came to him.