Late morning sunlight dappled the ground of a small patch of empty ground beside the river, sparkling brightly in the late summer light. A gentle breeze wove its way through the willow branches, rustling the leaves gently and tickling soft, striped fur. A rounded white ear flicked, and faltered as a pointed black one seemed to melt unconsciously out of the ether in front of the white. Golden eyes blinked sleepily from beneath the sea-striped white tiger pelt that now rested on the body of a mare the colors of an arctic sea at twilight. A yawn revealed massive fangs that clearly didn't fit inside an equine mouth.
Awake now, Perdita carefully inspected her paws, and breathed a sigh of relief.
No blood.
None for a week now. The nightmare that had been her life seemed increasingly gone for good. She looked around for good measure. Insofar as Perdita had ever learned to pay attention to her surroundings, which had always been useless before, the grove of weeping willows on the riverbank looked sort of similar to where she'd fallen asleep late the night before. She couldn't be absolutely sure, though. Ever since she was born, prone to blackouts and sleep where she had always woken up to blood on her paws, Perdita had never bothered to learn where she was. She'd never come to in the place where she'd lost consciousness, anyway.
Getting up, Perdita stretched herself, and looked uncertainly in the water. In the week since the weird sky blue gem had appeared on her forehead, a lot had happened. Somehow, more than had happened before in her life. It wasn't just remembering where she was at any given moment; it was also the simple fact of sorting out what she was. She had found out, to her immense surprise, and slight fear, the first morning after the Nightmare, as she increasingly called her life before, had ended. Given her mother and her brothers, she probably should have suspected it all along.
Did she dare try it?
It seemed easy, like flexing a well-toned muscle. A muscle she'd never known existed before. It also made certain activities easier. As the tigerish cat she could turn into, she was better at climbing and fishing. Fishing seemed the least nightmarish way to eat. Plants didn't seem right, and neither did eating someone who could talk back to her. Perdita shivered. Eating had been another discovery for her, and at least she could look for someone who didn't talk back, and she could do it quickly as a cat. Her stomach rumbled, and she sighed. Cat it was.
Melting into the smaller form, she settled on the riverbank, and focused all her attention on any fish that might swim within her reach.