Tva had been the rabbits’ god for several months now, protecting their warren from predation and coaxing their feeding grounds to grow fresh greens with gentle stimulation using his magnetic fields. It was delicate work, but rewarding. It had taken careful experimentation, far away from his followers to protect them from any mishaps, but he had accomplished it and had shared the fruits of his labor with his devotees to their jubilant gratitude.
He was a worthy god, he assured himself, watching his wards flourish. They had expressed their gratefulness in garlands of lupus, crowns and ornaments they wove for him with their prayers and worship, interwoven into his coat. He wore them with pride, though wondered wryly what his parents would have thought, if they could see him now, bedecked in the offerings of prey. He was an attentive god, patrolling his territory with regularity, however it wasn’t always enough to keep the predation at bay. He occasionally lost members of his populace, mostly to birds of prey, their additional spatial dimension beyond his ability to ward against, despite his best efforts.
The first time he made an acolyte was by accident. He had taken to blessing the lupus garlands his devotees would dedicate to him, honoring their offerings as sacrament. One young doe had eaten one of the blooms that had fallen from him, losing coordination after its ingestions, drawing the concern of her family and Tva. She writhed, convulsing, her muscles twitching as she foamed at the mouth. Suddenly, with the cracking of bone, the doe’s skull split open, fracturing down the middle, blood frothing, spraying onto the assembled. Tva’s heart stopped. Was it happening again? Was he cursed to rend apart all those he cared for?
The doe’s mouth opened wide in a piercing shriek, the cry of a dying thing. Wider and wider her mouth opened, her throat splitting open, revealing the depths of her stomach, her organs exposed and steaming, peeling back like the blooming of a viscera flower petals. And with a strange warping of space, she flipped inside out entirely, her insides wrapping a lump of rabbit flesh. With a disturbing bubbling gurgle the scalding, grotesque mass began twitching, growing larger and larger, coarse gray fur sprouting where once soft browns had been. Pointed ears, sharper than the rounded ones of rabbits grew at its temples, a long shaggy tail emerged from its hind quarters, paws with long curved claws lengthened, beyond what a rabbit would need. A wolf, Tva realized, with relief, overshadowing his disgust, as his rabbit devotees roiled in worry, anxious about this strange new development, a predator in their midst. He had born a wolf acolyte, not a replay of that horrible day when he had turned the ground red. He flung back his head and howled with joy, startling his subjects.
He was a father, he had devotees and acolyte children now, he thought, with wonder.
His new acolyte was a clumsy thing, ungainly with her newfound shape. She looked up at him, wagging her tail. Some things were innate, he thought fondly. The wolf gave a hop, not used to not being a rabbit, falling goofily on her face, limbs a tangle beneath her. Tva stepped forward, nosing the smaller wolf gently, prompting her to stand back up and try again. The wolf stood, legs still trembling slightly beneath her, weak and graceless as a newly born fawn. The wolf took a single step, moving one paw at a time fumblingly, Tva gave a small encouraging yip. Getting the hang of walking, the wolf moved into a trot, her tongue lolling out with exhilaration. The rabbits scattered before her, fleeing to their burrows. The new wolf paused, stilling, her ears perked and tail straight, the posture of a hunter. Some things might be innate, Tva thought again, this time with concern. He gave a low growl in warning. The wolf looked at him, uncertain, relaxing her posture. He would have to keep an eye on her, and any other new wolves he birthed, Tva recognized.
A’gia, as she was called, Tva learned, was not a very good wolf, too much of her docile nature lingering from her rabbithood. But it was likely for the best, a high prey drive was not her birthright. She followed Tva with reverence, learning how to protect the warrens from predators, how to mark their territory, the language of wolves. Soon other rabbits came, asking to devote themselves to Tva, to become his acolytes as well, despite the gruesome metamorphosis it required. And he loved them all for it, blessed their presented lupus and took them as his children, though his first daughter remained his most cherished, his precious firstborn.
And then there were five. Five freshly born wolves to protect his flock. Tva preened.
