Brooke’s face was barely inches away from mine. Y’know, I had dreams like this. Only in those she wasn’t typically glaring at me hard enough to singe my eyebrows.

I flinched and tried to back away, but she kept moving forward until I felt the wall bump into my shoulderblades.

“W-what are you talking about?” I said, weakly, seeing no other means of escape.

Brooke took a deep breath. “What do you think I am talking about? My hair!” She shook her head and the wavy curls that made up her bangs bounced slightly. “What did you do? Is this your idea of a joke? Is it because I rejected you, some kind of sick revenge? What is wrong with you, Lyra?”

“I... I...”

“God, you even did it to yourself!” With one finger she poked me right in the forehead. “You can’t tell me you weren’t involved. Is this some sort of twisted way to try to get close to me? I told you I wasn’t interested!”

I felt wetness on my cheeks and realized I was crying. My knees buckled and my back slowly slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor.

“I don’t know!” I said, tears coming in full force. I wasn’t normally this emotional, but something about the mysterious marks and now the hair and Brooke accusing me... it all caught up to me at once, I guess.

I looked up through my tears and saw Brooke had taken a step back. Her eyes still looked steely as she took a long moment to stare at me. Then they softened slightly, and she bit her lip as she looked down at me.

I must have looked pitiful.

After watching me try my best to stop the flow of tears and completely and utterly fail, she finally spoke up. “I... I’m sorry.”

I didn’t say anything. Closing my eyes, I rubbed at them, trying to calm myself but I just felt worse and worse. I couldn’t help but feel this really was all my fault. I couldn’t bear to look at Brooke.

I heard a noise next to me, then I felt arms close around me. My eyes flew open again and I could see my face pressed against soft pink hair, Brooke hugging me tightly. For some reason, that did it. I started sobbing in earnest, but it wasn’t as lonely as before. I was overflowing, but it was laced with relief, Brooke’s embrace giving me reassurance.

Finally, my crying subsided. With a few shuddering breaths and some fairly gross sniffs I managed to pull myself together. I could see her hair damp from my tears.

After another long moment, she finally let go, maintaining a grip on my shoulders but pulling us apart to arms length. “It’s okay,” she said, gently. “Now... do you have any idea what’s going on?”

I swallowed and shook my head side to side slowly.

Brooke exhaled slowly, and her mouth turned upwards slightly. It was a smile meant to be reassuring, but what still looked more worried. “So I guess we’re in the same boat, then? Crazy hair and... do you have an unusual, uh, symbol that appeared recently?”

“...A lyre,” I said, softly.

“What, like the instrument? Hm.” Brooke looked into my eyes again. “Look, I’m really sorry, OK?” She squeezed my shoulders reassuringly. “I got a little carried away. It’s just... this hair thing isn’t funny, it’s a big deal. I worked really hard to get this apprenticeship with the pastry chef at Sucré and if I’m seen like this, I could get thrown out of the whole program. And they’re giving me room and board too. I’m just really freaked out right now.”

I nodded, wiping my face with my sleeve. “...You’re not the only one,” I said, my voice straining to sound lighthearted.

“Yeah,” she said, solemnly.

We sat in the hallway for one more long moment before my embarrassment caught up to me. I had broken down into tears for no reason, and as appreciative as I was to Brooke for the support, I couldn’t help but feel like I was way less of a man in her eyes now as a result. Ugh.

Clumsily, I got to my feet, squeezing my eyes tightly shut to get rid of any last remnant of my shame. Brooke rose as well and stepped back, anxiously holding her arms behind her back and looking over her shoulder at the plastic bag she had been sitting next to. Our eyes met and she smiled guiltily.

“Actually...” she said. “I was hoping I could ask you a favor. Could I use your shower?”

I blinked.

“I need to try and wash out whatever this hair stuff is,” she said. “And failing that, to dye it back to something reasonable.” She waved towards the plastic bag. “And I can’t go home, cause, y’know, I can’t let anyone see me with my hair still crazy. Thank goodness I noticed before anyone else did and could duck out of work.”

“Sure,” I said. “Um. Particularly if you help me do the same.”

I finally saw a real smile on her face as she turned and started walking to my door. “Of course! Though yours is kinda cute.”

In a girly way, I’m sure. Sigh.

I could hear the shower running, along with faint growls of exasperation that meant Brooke was having a tough time. She had been in there for quite a while, leaving me to awkwardly try to find some way to busy myself.

I had partially succeeded in this – at least I had managed to clean up the living room and move the mess in my bedroom to a more contained pile. But afterwards I found myself standing around, guiltily staring in the direction of the bathroom door.

I noticed that I was standing on my toes. Argh. Seriously, there was something wrong with me. I tried to relax and forced my heels down.

...Only for them to ache, trembling slightly as the muscles tensed. Was there actually something wrong with me? I bounced onto my toes again and my feet felt relieved, even though I was pretty sure feet aren’t made to be treated like that. At least I apparently had good balance.

I hopped on one foot, then the other, leaning far forward with my hands spread out in front of me to keep my balance. With a surprising grace I pirouetted on the point of one toe, my hands spread in the air. This was... kind of fun!

A loud thump echoed through the bathroom door, followed by the sounds of muffled cursing from within. The noise having jerked me back to reality, I stood up straight, shaking my head fiercely in embarrassment at my actions.

“Brooke? You okay?” I called through the door.

“I’m fine!” Her voice was loud and angry. Pretty clear that her attempts to alleviate her hair situation were still meeting with failure. Better just to leave her alone.

I needed something to take my mind off of things. Or maybe something to keep my mind on things, helpful things that weren’t dancing around like a goddamn ballerina or Brooke being potentially naked and wet right on the other side of that door, ample curves glistening in— Oh my god.

Something to take my mind off things.

Right.

I hurriedly made my way to my room, grabbing my guitar. This would help, music always calmed me down. Taking a seat on the bed, I strummed a little, adjusting strings to get everything in tune.

But upon trying in earnest, I came upon an unsettling realization. The more I tried to concentrate and play something, the worse it ended up. My hands seemed as clumsy as my feet had been deft. And since I couldn’t play the thing with my feet, this meant nothing but frustration. The music in my head was fine, I could feel it flowing through as it always had, but any attempt to translate it into being through the guitar ran into the wall of fingers completely unwilling to cooperate. My reactions were sluggish, the movements imprecise.

Setting the guitar down, I took a deep breath. Just... just nerves, and being all worked up about Brooke. A nagging feeling floated in the back of my mind, pointing out that I had been nervous plenty of times before and it had never been like this. I silenced the thought ruthlessly.

I needed something else to think about. Again.

My mind conjured up Brooke’s face. Damn, not that.

Or wait, maybe. I had completely forgotten about one thing that had seemed particularly strange. Brooke’s eye color had changed. Sure, she could have been wearing contacts or something to change the color, but why would she? Particularly with her freaking out so much about the hair.

...I wonder. Were my eyes the same? Of course, they’d have to be, right? Hair is one thing. There’s a million ways for someone to change their hair: dye, extensions, wigs, whatever. But eyes? I’d notice if I had contacts in, and it’s not like there was any other way to mess with them. At least that I knew of.

I suddenly felt a pressing need to have to prove this to myself. But Brooke was in the bathroom with the mirror. Hmm.

I glanced around my room, looking for any kind of reflective object, before my gaze fell on my computer. That’d work. I had a webcam, after all – I could just test it and see. Plus, that way I could see my stupid hair from someone else’s perspective.

My course of action decided, I slipped over to the computer chair and turned on the monitor. A few clicks here, a few clicks there and... voila!

...I had yellow eyes.

Or rather, gold. With one eye I stared up at the webcam so I could get a closer look, which meant the other tried to focus on the screen, making them cross and my vision swim. Derp, that wouldn’t work. But even looking at the computer normally, it was clear: my eyes were now a different color.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

Pulling back, I turned my head from side to side, looking at my hair. It was indeed a very pale blueish color, with a slight tinge of green. Winding down and around my ear was a highlight of white, accentuating the look.

It was also indeed girly, although at least short enough in front to be ambiguous about it. I shook my head gently, and the hair shook too before falling back into its natural tousled state.

This had suddenly gotten a little scary. The hair wasn’t bad or anything, per se, but that plus the eyes, plus the marks... all these little unexplainable things had started to really make me worry.

I stared at myself, trying to determine if anything else had changed. It was the same face that I had always seen, as far as I could tell. In fact, a little nicer looking than normal, maybe – the bit of acne that was normally present had cleared up. I stared at my nose, my chin, my mouth, suddenly paranoid that something else had changed, even though that would be ridiculous. But every time I saw my eyes, I got a cold shiver. Who knew what was possible?

Unnerved, I reached for the computer’s mouse, and with a clicking noise, I saved an image of myself. Just in case.

But staring at myself was only going to make me feel more jumpy. A better idea would be to try and be proactive in figuring this out. Now, what could the Internet tell me about strange hair appearing or odd skin markings?

...

Note to self: be cautious what you Google image search.

The light shining through the windows was grey, angry clouds doing their best to get in the sun’s way, but it was bright enough to force me awake. I groaned, squeezing my eyes together tightly before opening them to look around. I felt awful.

That was probably due to sleeping on the floor. Ugh. My lower back felt particularly sore and achey. I just couldn’t get comfortable at all last night, tossing and turning continually interrupting furtive moments of rest. And now I was up and not going back to sleep, despite still feeling exhausted. Note to self: need to get blinds for this now-empty second bedroom.

Wait. Why wasn’t I in my bedroom?

I paused and rubbed an itch on my forehead. Oh, right. Brooke was here. And after she had taken the shower for three hours, trying in vain to dye her hair something more reasonable, I had just suggested she stay the night.

Gee, a week ago I would be freaking out about that fact, but it loses some of the appeal when you’re sleeping on the floor in an entirely different room. But as much as I still clearly carried a torch for her, I was trying very hard to keep things as friends. Things between us may not be meant to be, but I did genuinely want to help her. Something about seeing her happy just made me feel sunny inside. Even just thnking about her smiling...

My stomach rumbled, bringing me back to the present and adding to the complaining the rest of my sore body was already doing. Well, if I was going to be up, I might as well get some food. I wriggled out of the twisted blankets that I had attempted to make into a bed and kicked them aside into a corner. I stretched, hearing a series of pops in my back and feeling some relief.

Whew. Much better.

I reached down to free my tail from the confines of my pajama pants, the new freedom already relieving the soreness. I swished it back and forth, working out the kinks as I paced forwards towards the door.

Swish, swish. It was like scratching an itch, making a smile appear on my face.

Swish.

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. Wait.

Swish.

Swish, swish.

Huh.

Swish.

My other hand shook as it made its way back to the unfamiliar appendage. It brushed against silky hair and with a start, both hand and tail jerked away from each other.

That... was definitely a tail. Cautiously, I twisted my upper body around, looking down. Yep. A light blue-green tail with a conspicuous white stripe in the center. I touched it again, this time preparing myself, but even so I shivered at the feeling. Sleek and smooth – softer than it would have seemed at first glance. It was a little untamed but natural-looking, the wavy hair sticking out at the end.

I flicked it again, and the tail whipped up. You know, a tail like this I would have vaguely assumed to just be made up of nothing but hair, but I could feel more than that, and clearly I could move it. I ran my fingers through it softly. It felt just like my spine kept on going a bit more than usual. Huh. You learn something new every day.

My vision started getting blurry all of a sudden, my head pounding. I took a shuddering breath, gasping for oxygen. Oh. I had stopped breathing. That’s usually a thing that I needed to do. Right.

OK. I just need to think through this.

I looked back at the tail. My tail, I guess. The color scheme looked familiar. Right. It matched my hair. I raised my hand to run it through the hair on my head as a comparison. And then I felt my ear. My much larger than normal, slightly fuzzy ear, that laid down flat as I brushed against it.

Oh come on.

The phone sat awkwardly against my shoulder as I cracked open the freezer and started rummaging around. There had to be something in here that’d do for breakfast.

I heard someone pick up on the other side, finally. “Hello?” a voice asked. From the sound of it, I had woken her up, which normally I would feel a slight bit of guilt about, but I had other things on my mind.

“Daisy,” I said, firmly. Better not to launch into things directly. She would need to actually be fully conscious first.

“Ugh,” she responded. Yep, was good to wait.

“Daisy, I need you to come over here right now.” I found a box of sausage biscuits crammed at the back of the fridge. I paused to consider it, but decided no. Sausage did not sound appetizing at the moment.

“W-who is this?” she asked. Definitely still sleepy, she didn’t even recognize my voice.

“It’s Tyler,” I replied. “How soon can you get here?” I gave up on the fridge and switched to looking in the pantry. Maybe...

“Tyyyler...” she said, “it’s... 9:30 in the morning. Who gets up at 9:30 in the morning?”

“Normal people?” My investigations had been fruitful. A full and unopened box of strawberry pop-tarts! I cracked it open and took out a couple, still wrapped in silvery foil.

“Not any kind of people that I’d want to be around,” she muttered darkly. “What could possibly be this important?”

Then I heard a gasp behind me. My ears swiveled around at the sound, which startled me a bit, and I spun around to see the source.

Brooke was standing in the doorway, staring at me with eyes the size of saucers. One hand was raised over her mouth. The other hung in the air before slowly moving towards her back. I knew where this was going. I could see her ears poking up through her hair. So, that’s what those looked like.

“Daisy,” I said into the phone, “I’m going to have to call you back. Brooke just saw my tail.”

“What?” she asked incredulously, and I heard her voice increase in volume amidst demands for explanation before I hung up.

Brooke’s hand made contact with something around her butt and her eyes stretched even wider. Slowly she sunk to her knees and then curled up awkwardly on the floor in complete silence.

I didn’t know quite what to do. So, I walked over to take a seat next to her. Our shoulders touched and we leaned on each other ever so slightly. Whatever was happening to us was happening to both of us, and that at least was reassuring. A very small amount of reassuring, but we would take what we could get.

I opened the pop-tarts and handed her one. I guess we could have toasted them first, but I, for one, didn’t feel like moving for the moment. So, we sat on the cold tile of the kitchen, eating slightly stale strawberry pop-tarts and trying to process what was going on.

It was... nice.

Some time later, the full team had assembled.

Meaning Daisy had shown up. Currently she and Brooke were sitting on the floor in the living room, Daisy absolutely enraptured by Brooke’s tail. She kept pulling at the curls and watching them spring back into shape. At least Brooke didn’t seem to mind. Her face was serious, and she appeared to be deep in thought.

I was busy pacing back and forth worriedly. I felt jittery and full of energy, but the moving around seemed to clear my head. My tail lashed out behind me as I walked, swishing back and forth in a deliberate manner that gave me a sense of purpose.

“So,” I said, “Daisy, do you have any idea what could be going on?”

She looked up, biting her lip. “Maybe somewhat? But it seems sort of crazy.”

“Crazy like growing a tail overnight crazy?” Brooke asked, dryly.

Daisy looked between me and Brooke and sighed. “So... I think...” Her hesitation was evident, and I motioned with one hand for her to get on with it. “You might be turning into ponies?”

I blinked. My eyes met those of Brooke, then we both turned to stare at Daisy.

“Heheh,” she chuckled halfheartedly. “It’s sort of too coincidental otherwise. The exact mane colors and your cutie marks—”

“The what?” I cut in. “You said that yesterday too.”

“Cutie marks,” she said. “All the ponies in the show have them on their flanks. Well, the adult ponies anyways. It’s a sign of their special talent.” Daisy looked at Brooke for a moment, rubbing her chin. “Let me guess. You have one of three wrapped sweets?”

Brooke nodded, narrowing her eyes. “How did you know?”

“Your hair and tail are pretty distinctive. They belong to Bon-Bon, and that’s what her cutie mark is. Just like the lyre one for Lyra Heartstrings.” Daisy was trying to be calm and informational, but her eyes sparkled.

I felt a sudden chill at the name. “Lyra Heartstrings?”

Daisy nodded. “Right, your colors match Lyra’s to a T.”

I stared at Brooke hard. She was still looking at Daisy, but when she noticed my attention, she turned towards me, raising an eyebrow at my attention towards her.

“You called me Lyra,” I finally said, my words laced with an accusatory tone.

Her eyebrows furrowed but she didn’t flinch. “No I didn’t,” she said, evenly.

“You did, yesterday,” I said, my words tumbling out faster and faster. “Like... twice! I just assumed you had ‘Tyler’ wrong, but you definitely said Lyra. How did you know? Do you know more than you’re letting on?”

An angry light flared in Brooke’s eyes. “Are you kidding me? You think I’d do this to myself? I’m still not convinced that it’s not your fault. All this started when the night I hung out with you two.”

“What?” I said. “I don’t know anything about these stupid ponies! How could I have—”

“Girls!” Daisy yelled out. “Calm down!”

I ground my teeth. “I’m not a girl.”

“Sorry,” Daisy said. “But, regardless. Rather than whose fault this is, I think we need to focus on what to do next.”

Brooke pointedly looked away from me. “Fine by me,” she said.

I muttered an assent as well, and Daisy pulled out her phone, typing away.

“If you grew tails somehow, then I really don’t know how far this is going to go. But I think you two should look at this.” Daisy finished what she was doing and passed the phone over for Brooke to take a look. I walked around behind them and peered down.

She had just pulled up an image on the web. A picture of two colorful ponies in a cartoony style standing next to one another. One was a mint-green pony – no, a unicorn, from the stubby horn sprouting from its forehead. It bore a wide grin, and one arm stretched across the back of the other pony That other one was cream-colored, with swirly two-toned hair. It was rolling its eyes and leaning away, but an embarrassed smile crossed its face.

Both of them had very familiar manes and tails, and the unicorn had the same lyre symbol that I did. The very exact same one, there was no question about it.

I was the first to speak up. “So, we’re turning into... that.”

Daisy shrugged. “I have no idea. It could just be this much, it could be that you’re going to have hooves tomorrow. Or... other things.” She looked directly at me and appeared about to speak, but seemed to think better of it.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Brooke said.

“And why us?” I asked, rhetorically. “Why not you? You seem to know about these things.”

Daisy shook her head. “I don’t know. And I’m also wondering... why Lyra and Bon-Bon specifically? Sure, you two are sort of a matched pair...” Brooke and I both gave her a sharp glare. “No, I mean, in the show Lyra and Bon-Bon are a pair of background ponies that don’t really have major roles, but they show up together a lot in crowds or as filler.”

“So, you’re saying we’re not even turning into the important ponies?” I asked.

“Aw, they’re both pretty cool, at least fanon-wise. Are you two sure you didn’t do anything odd together that might have brought this on?”

“Absolutely sure,” Brooke said with a frosty tone.

I winced a bit but nodded. “This is freaky shit. Like magic. Or...” An idea struck me. “A curse!”

“A curse?” Brooke repeated dubiously.

“Right, so, I work at a lab on campus and we deal with historical artifacts pretty often. What if one of them was cursed or from some mummy tomb or something? We can’t exactly rule out the possibility.”

Daisy giggled to herself. “Yeah, maybe you offended Frend-Shep-Sut, the ancient Egyptian god of pastel cartoon ponies.” I rolled my eyes.

Brooke seemed skeptical, but willing to take me more seriously. “Why me, then?”

I shrugged. “Because you were in close proximity to me?”

“Hmmm,” Daisy said. “But how often do you deal with stuff that’s legit ancient? And what about everyone else in the lab?”

I frowned. She was right, I couldn’t think of anything I had dealt with in the past three months that was truly noteworthy or potentially cursed. It was still a good idea though.

“Well, let’s think. Over the past couple of days, has there been anything out of the ordinary?”

We were silent, each deep in thought.

Brooke spoke up. “I burned some cookies a few hours before we went out that night.” After seeing the expression on our faces, she frowned. “Hey, I never burn things. I just zoned out for a minute and completely didn’t notice the timer going off. That’s weird, right?”

“Sure,” Daisy said. I was less convinced.

Another idea popped into my head. “The lyre!” I said, my voice showing some excitement. “There was this lyre yesterday! It was special somehow. Just like my... mark.” I was not going to call it a cutie mark. I still had some pride.

“Where?” Brooke said.

“The history building on campus. But, that was also after things had started to change. I didn’t notice it at all until that point. But then I really wanted to play it. I don't know why, it was just this sudden strong urge. I bet it’s not that different from any other stringed instrument. With a little bit of practice, I could—”

Brooke frowned and interrupted. “But if you didn’t notice it until after, how is it related? How do you know it’s not another one of the changes? Or that giving into it wouldn't just speed up the process, like you’re accepting things rather than trying to get back to normal?”

Her objections were valid, but depressing. Even thinking of the lyre again made my fingers twitch. But that very attraction meant that something was up, and in that case Brooke could be right about it only intensifying matters. If it was the root cause, I should have had some interaction with it before the mark showed up. Maybe.

“Ugh,” I said. “Nothing makes sense!”

“Hey, it’s going to work out.” I didn’t quite believe Daisy, but her words were appreciated nonetheless. “Look, I think I should talk to Andy, his—”

“No way,” I said flatly.

Andy was a friend of Daisy’s. I never really liked the guy. He was always just a bit odd, slightly too intense and not particularly good at picking up social signals. I don’t know why she hung out with him. A vague memory popped into my head about him also being into that pony cartoon. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me – that seemed like just the sort of thing that’d be up his alley. But even still, I didn’t want anyone besides us to know about this. I figured Andy would be really creepy about the whole thing, too.

But Daisy seemed put off by my answer. “Tyler, he’s a nice guy when you get to know him. And what I was going to say... his roommate is studying veterinary science. If you two actually are turning into full-on ponies, that could be important.”

I mulled it over. “Maybe, then. But not yet.” I sighed heavily. “I just wish we had some lead, something that we could do.”

Daisy grinned deviously. “I might have an idea!” she said, turning to her backpack at her side and beginning to dig through the contents. She pulled something out, and presented it to us proudly.

My Little Pony, Season 1, on DVD.

Sigh.

I didn’t last long, maybe five or six episodes. But I did keep seeing that same green unicorn hanging around in the background. I don’t want to say it was a bad show, but I just found it uninteresting. All the plots were so straightforward, even never having seen it before I felt like I could predict how everything was going to turn out, practically down to the very word. It was written for kids though, so that’s not too surprising.

Daisy and Brooke seemed to enjoy it more, and it turned out Brooke had even watched some of the show previously so before long they were chattering away about one thing or another. Mostly Daisy doing the talking, but still, it was good to see Brooke a little less stoic for once. I worried that she had been taking this whole pony thing pretty hard.

Ultimately I excused myself with the excuse of needing to go to class. Brooke tried to talk me out of it, worried about further changes happening and our secret getting out, but I promised to be careful and insisted on needing to maintain some vestige of being human.

To be honest, I could care less about class though. I just needed to get outside, get some fresh air. The sky was overcast, and it seemed like it might start sprinkling at any time, but it was still wonderful. Had I always appreciated days like this? Even the cool gusty wind made me feel the energy in the air. It was refreshing.

Out of a lack of any better plan I headed to the park a few blocks away. I just needed a place to think, and the grass and trees would help. I found myself whistling as I made my way there, my worries replaced by cheerfulness, if not confidence.

It wasn’t as busy as usual, which was not surprising given the weather. I took a bench at the center of the park, slouching down and looking over the grounds. A few people were still around. Joggers winding their way through along park pathways. Children playing on the old jungle gym in one corner. Mothers chatting amongst one another as they watched over their kids. Even the animals were out, if you were paying attention. Squirrels scampered from tree to tree, blending in but made noticeable by their movement. Birds were harder to see, but I could hear them calling from the trees.

I briefly wished that I had brought my guitar. It would be fun to add my own melody to the chirps of birds and the whistling of the wind through branches. If I could still play it correctly. Or maybe that lyre... but if I couldn't play the guitar, I absolutely couldn't play a lyre.

But here, my problems seemed farther away. With so much life around me, I felt like one smaller bit of a bigger whole. A small bit, but still an important one. I still fit into—

“Excuse me,” a voice said, from one side of me. I turned my head, and my smile fell away. It was one of the mothers, from her harried-looking expression and from the small girl peering around her legs in my direction.

“Y-yes?” I asked.

She looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, my daughter couldn’t help but notice your costume, and she just wouldn’t leave me alone about taking a picture with you.”

I blinked. Costume? Wait.

I wasn’t wearing anything to hide my ears. Oh buck.

“Er—” I started.

“Oh, it’d mean the world to her, we’d only take a second of your time.” The mother sounded a little desperate. I wondered if the kid was prone to tantrums or what.

“Sure,” I said, nervously. I didn’t mind it, and honestly, making the kid happy would brighten my day as well. I just felt like the one thing Brooke was adamant on was lying low, and getting my picture taken was sort of the opposite of that.

Before I could say anything else though, the kid had hopped up on the bench and wrapped her arms tightly around me, her eyes wide and her smile innocent and cheerful. I looked forward as the mother pulled out her phone to take the picture, and forced a big smile of my own, my ears standing straight up out of my hair.

There was a brief flash, and then the little girl had hidden behind her mother again, like she couldn’t decide if I was wonderful or terrifying.

The mother thanked me, and I nodded vaguely, my eyes following them as they headed back to the general vicinity of the jungle gym. I noticed some more heads turning in my direction, and some kids running up to tug at their parents’ sleeves.

Uh oh. I decided to leave before things just got worse. And before people actually started asking questions. I stood and quickly headed off into the opposite direction.

The day seemed a little darker. Did I really fit in at all anymore? What about if things kept changing? I felt as if I had just realized how wonderful the world could be, only to find that my place in it was being yanked away. What was I going to do? Live my life alone and in hiding?

My thoughts spiraled further as I trudged home.

***

Daisy and Brooke were still watching ponies when I got back. Specifically, they were involved in some sort of argument about whether some pony had the best cupcakes or not, which seemed completely ridiculous. I just responded half-heartedly at their welcome back and headed to my room, mumbling something about needing a nap.

It was more or less true, seeing as how I figured I should take advantage of my bed while I could. But before that, I had to check something. I paced over to my computer and turned on the webcam, shuddering as my fingers fumbled through the necessary motions. Would they be hooves tomorrow? I felt like anything could happen now.

Forcing the thought from my head, I focused on the image that came up. My face. Right. The hair and the eyes were clearly wrong, but had anything else changed? I studied the image carefully. It all looked pretty familiar, I did know my own face.

I clicked to bring up the picture I had saved last night.

It was different. Noticeably different, in fundamental ways. My eyes were larger now, the gold irises more vividly colored. My face was more rounded, my chin less pronounced, and the lines of my jaw and cheekbones softer. As much as it bugged me, I looked considerably more androgynous, if not actually feminine.

I practically looked like an entirely different person now. And what was scary is that I had completely failed to realize it until directly staring at the proof. Did that mean the changes weren’t just physical? Was it also happening to my mind? And in that case... where would it stop?

Would I lose my identity entirely? My memories? My self?

I sniffed loudly and wiped at my eyes. I was crying again, for no discernable reason. It only made me feel worse.

I wrapped myself in a blanket and curled up in my bed, trying to stop the flow of tears. But all I could think about were the changes. My whole body felt super-sensitive, the slightest twitch or movement of air against skin making me assume the worst, that I was losing another part of my humanity. I was all alone, and I was vanishing away.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook me.

I could hear faint sounds of ponies laughing and talking drifting through the door to my room. Apparently the marathon was still ongoing. A wary glance at my clock showed that I had been in bed for a long while, longer than I had wanted.

But I was still lying there, already completely awake but not wanting to move. Getting up meant having to look at something else that had changed. I knew I needed to face that, but I didn’t want to.

Maybe I just had to psyche myself up first. I looked over at my guitar, but figured it wouldn’t be much good if my hands were still all fumbly. Music wasn’t a bad idea though. I searched my mind for a tune.

Come on everypony smile smile smile, fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine.

Right, that worked. For some reason I already started to feel happier.

Wait, how did I know that song?

I realized I was actually hearing it softly coming from the living room. Oh. At least it was fairly catchy. Taking a deep breath, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting up. I checked my hands first. Still recognizably human, but I could no longer move my middle and ring fingers separately. The middle one in particular looked larger. Well, I could guess where that was going. I looked over at my guitar and my heart sunk.

It made me think of my feet, and I examined them next, noticing for the first time my socks hanging oddly. I pulled one off, only to be greeted with the sight of a hoof, mint-green in coloration. Poking at it revealed that yep, it was hard and a hoof, alright.

I removed my other sock and hopped off the bed, slightly unsteady for a moment before finding my center of balance. The hooves were... different than I expected. I could still feel the ground underfoot. Or underhoof, I suppose. But there was some degree of separation – my feet felt strong and sturdy, like a pair of thick boots. Thick boots that I could still feel through. Huh. I felt firmly planted and surefooted, which was surprising given that I would expect without real feet that it would be much harder to stay upright.

The green fur started around my hooves and trailed up my legs. That was going to be hard to hide if it spread to my hands or face. How high up did it even go? I glanced at the door for a minute – they were still busy watching the show. Wouldn’t hurt to check now.

I dropped my pants and boxers. Patches of it stretched all the way up my legs, legs that seemed to be shifting oddly in proportions, my ankle and knees having moved slightly. These changes were starting to happen fast. Were they speeding up? I could see the lyre marks completely surrounded in a circle of green fur now, hinting that they might be the source. That fur stretched from them, connecting across my crotch.

My...

My...

I was supposed to have something there, something that I now very definitively did not.

“Aaaaaaaaah!” I shouted. No, that’s being too charitable. More accurately, I shrieked.

I heard clumsy footsteps clomp in the hallway. Oh, I guess Brooke probably has hooves too, the still-functioning side of my brain chipped in.

“Lyra!” she shouted. “Are you okay?”

Not even waiting for a response, she burst through the door, skidding to a stop once she saw me. In less than a fraction of a second, her face suddenly turned the brightest shade of red I had ever seen in my entire life. I could practically see steam coming off of her cheeks. Naturally, she was staring at my exposed anatomy. My new, unfamiliar exposed anatomy. I didn’t even think to do anything, I was too busy trying to process it myself.

Finally, her eyes tore away from my nethers and slowly rose to meet my face. Upon meeting my eyes, we both suddenly realized the awkwardness of the situation. My hands flew down to cover my... My hands flew down to cover up, and Brooke rapidly backed up into the hallway, slamming the door closed between us.

Wait a minute.

“You just called me Lyra again!” I yelled through the door.