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As usual, the aftermath of the change was wonderful. The dusk had been beaten back by the strange spectral glow of his night vision. He could see both the striations and veins in the leaves that fluttered around his head and the tiny red berries on a holly bush on the far side of the golf course. He was standing upright on two legs, but would have been just as happy down on four. His hands still resembled hands, with five distinct fingers, but they were thick and he had developed heavy pads like hard calluses on his palms. His feet were both thinner and stronger than his hands. He stretched out a foreleg, flexed, and claws slid outshiny and sharplike they were controlled by hydraulic pistons. |
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Christ, he thought with no small amount of pride, I could hurt myself with these things. |
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The fur that covered Cyrus's body was the same color as his hair, but much thicker and as soft as down. The fur also kept him warm in the wind and didn't itch the way he had expected it would. Curious as to what his face looked like, he dropped down on all fours and crept to the edge of the water hazard. It was late, so he wasn't that worried about being seen. Besides, he figured that if anyone did see him, they would probably think he was a stray German shepherd. |
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The face in the greenish water had long, pointed ears topped with tufts of white hair, a long tapered snout and a round, black nose. Cyrus opened his mouth. |
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Wowhe whistled silently to himselfwhat a set of choppers. |
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The rear teeththe ones that in humans were normally flat and used for grindingwere conical and slanted toward the back of his throat like the teeth of a shark. The teeth in front were as round and sharp as ice picks. And of course there were the fangs: four ivory-yellow daggers, each about four inches long. |
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Thirsty, Cyrus sniffed the water and instantly wished he hadn't. His brain was flooded with a collage of olfactory images: urine from a female French poodle, the oily-electrical smell of golf carts, decomposing leaves and grass, old beer |
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