<div></div><br> <br>Fenris walks along the streets in Snowhame, enjoying the cool spring weather of the northern city. He scans the busy marketplace looking for the familiar, gaudy tent of the fleshcrafters. The burly bunny is carrying a small satchel that he swings as he walks along. Rumors said they were around here somewhere.<br> <br>The tent stands conspicuously among the various homemade stalls and carts in the open market, the bright colors shining out like a beacon among the various browns and other muted colors. The market is relatively quiet, it being a monday after all, but various beings have started to filter in to grab a bite or two to eat.<br> <br>Fenris slings his satchel over one shoulder and grins a buck toothed smile as he finally spots the garish, striped tent. The big bunny saunters toward it, watching for the coyote proprietor. &quot;Anyone home?&quot; he calls as he draws close to the tent, &quot;Customer out here.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;Yes, yes, come in!&quot; The coyote pokes his head out of the folded doors of the tent, before throwing both the curtains open wide, arms outstretches in a sort of tired, showy fashion, reminiscent of a cheesy shopping channel sale. &quot;I&#39;m assuming you&#39;re here for the wonders of this machine, yes? Do you have the lunars?&quot;<br> <br>Fenris smirks and produces a small pouch filled with lunar dust and tosses it up and down in his hand. &quot;I certainly do,&quot; he says, &quot;I am here for a change. I am thinking that I would like to see what you have to offer here in frozen Thera&#39;Dor.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;Clearly! Well, I&#39;m certain nothing&#39;s changed between Sweetwater and here, but ah, well.&quot; The coyote steps to the side, gesturing for the large lapine to enter, waving his arms in a long, exaggerated motion. Certainly up-playing it. &quot;Either way. You have a preferred choice this go-around, or shall I pull one from the hat?&quot;<br> <br>Fenris hesitates a little bit, then shrugs. &quot;I am up for a surprise,&quot; the tiger striped bunny says, &quot;Like I said, I am ready for a change.&quot; The rabbit hands over the pouch of lunars. &quot;Let&#39;s just make this an exciting go round, shall we?&quot; He raises a hand toward the mole sitting at the controls of the strange machine. &quot;Alright there, Monty?&quot; he asks pleasantly as he saunters toward the transforming chamber.<br> <br>The coyote takes the pouch of lunars and reaches over into a cabinet, removing an old, brown, woolen hat, the weathered cloth having dulled with the sands of time, reaching in and casually plucking out a folded slip of paper, tossing it towards the mole with a flick of the wrist. &quot;Alright. &#39;ere we go.&quot;<br> <br>Now that was curious. Fenris has never seen the coyote do anything like that before. &quot;What is that all about?&quot; the bunny asks, stripping down and carefully folding his clothes in preparation for the change, and setting the satchel on top of the neat little pile. He stands unashamedly in the nude, waiting for further instructions.<br> <br>&quot;Hey, you said you wanted to be surprised. Might as well make a little fun out of it, too.&quot; He notes, gesturing a hand towards the machine, and then towards the console. &quot;Besides, I didn&#39;t get a good look at the strip, either. What you&#39;ll turn into is a good as a guess as mine. That is the &#39;man&#39; hat, though, so don&#39;t fear for your bits.&quot; The coyote busies himself with shelving the hat back on the shelf, then hesitating. &quot;Remember, no refunds.&quot;<br> <br>&quot;Fair enough,&quot; Fenris says with a buck toothed smile, then strides into the machine, closing the door behind him and waiting patiently as the thing whirls to life and glowing mathemagic spins around him, making changes on the deepest level.<br> <br>The coyote stands nearby the fleshcrafter, tapping his foot on the ground while the machine does it&#39;s work to change the rabbit into something different, the mole tapping away at the console before finally tugging on the lever. The changes begin to happen all at once. His tail, Fenris&#39;, rather, begins to lengthen and flatten out, with the striped fur that previously covered the lapine taking in a deep brown color from the roots up. The feet shorten from the previous size of a rabbit, becomming short, webbed, and clawed, although not an extreme of any of the three. The hands remain hands, as would be expected, but the stubby rabbit nose begins to lengthen out into a proud, black bill, whilst the ears shrink and become reabsorbed entirely. It&#39;s done with little flair, besides the glow of the runes.<br> <br>Fenris does his best to relax as he feels his body stretch and warp like platypus taffy. His suddenly large, flat tail flaps spontaneously and the altered being waits for the machine to add its finishing touches. He is honestly not sure if this is something real, or if the fleshcrafter has just had enough of him!<br> <br>When it comes to finishing touches, little things come to fur color. Namely, adding black in with the brown, making it a little darker towards the trailing edge, along with liberal speckling of the charcoal fur throughout the mud-brown body as a whole. With a comical ding, the process finishes, and the coyote peers warily at the door.<br> <br>Fenris waits patiently until the door springs open, then the new platypus steps out of the machine. He looks over his altered body with great interest, looking at thick hands and arms, and carefully examining his thick torso and flapping his wide, flat tail. &quot;This is certainly different,&quot; he says, the corners of his mouth twitching in a smile.<br> <br>&quot;Different in a good way, or bad way? I mean, y&#39;know.&quot; The coyote gives the platypus a once-over, glancing over them, before making gestures towards the pile of clothes that still lies on the floor and taking the little strip of paper back from the mole operator. &quot;Hopefully all that still fits. Also, I really need to get better at drawing. I can&#39;t tell whether this is a duck or a beaver.&quot; He squints. &quot;I should cut back on the late-night business decisions.&quot;<br> <br>Fenris continues to examine himself. &quot;A little grey in there,&quot; he says, trying out his voice and finding the results satisfactory, though the duck bill is a little strange, &quot;And a bit more pudge than I am used to, but I feel pretty good.&quot; He makes his way over to his clothes and starts to dress again. &quot;I didn&#39;t think you could mix species with that thing?&quot; the new platypus asks, &quot;Did something just go wrong? Has the Fleshcrafter changed me too often?&quot;<br> <br>&quot;Hm.&quot; They pull out a book from a shelf, flicking through a few pages, before squinting at one closely. &quot;No, no, this is a real thing. It&#39;s called a &#39;Platypus&#39;.&quot; The coyote closes the book with a satisfying thud, placing it back on the shelf and turning to Fenris. &quot;Well. As fun as this is, don&#39;t have that much time for chit-chat, really. Someone else might want a little changing.&quot; They nod, smiling. &quot;You&#39;re always welcome to come back, though.&quot;<br> <br>Fenris gives the coyote a friendly wink. &quot;You know I will,&quot; he says pleasantly, &quot;Thanks for the fun.&quot; The tiger-turned-bunny-turned platypus raises a hand in farewell to the mole at the controls, then strides out of the tent once he is fully dressed. Might be time to go looking for a change of wardrobe, as long as he is shaking things up.