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My first published story

A quick one shot to satisfy my muse. I hope you enjoy.

@sningo-prompts

(for day 17 of Sept-Ingo: Poison) read under the cut or on AO3!

Ingo could not remember what puberty had been like. He heard from others it was a miserable experience, and even the word itself made an uncomfortable feeling bloom in his chest. But he couldn’t remember what it had been like. 

Something like this, perhaps. 

He still didn’t know what caused his transformation into a sneasel. Why he had to become a baby sneasel was even more confounding. But Sneasler was there to coach him through it, so it hadn’t all been bad- though the teething was less than enjoyable. 

Somehow this was even more infuriating. 

His poison was coming in. 

When he’d first been transformed, his claws had been a clean pearly white, but now they were darkening into a distinctive purple shade. Ingo wasn’t one to care much about appearances (that aspect belonged to… someone else…) and as odd as the splotchy patches of purple and ivory were, he didn’t much care. 

It was the near constant discharge of poison that was the issue. 

He didn’t know how to control when to release the oily substance in his claws, so it just dripped out of the tips and seeped through the tiny crack along the inside curve of them. This left puddles of the toxic substance everywhere he went- pooling on the den floor and splatting over the walls and rock faces Sneasler made him climb. 

Sneasler herself had laughed at his disgruntlement, “it’s a natural part of growing!” She’d assumed him, “when I was a kit, I left puddles of poison up to my ankles.” 

“That… certainly doesn’t sound pleasant…” 

“No,” she agreed, “but it only took a few days for it to finally settle. You’ll learn to control it soon.”

“I hope so too,” he said, looking down at his claws, “it is a good thing I have a wonderful teacher.” 

Sneasler laughed and ingo felt his lips twitch up into a sneasel grin. No- his adventures as a sneasel wasn't all bad.