# Chapter 10: The Hunt

"Let's try now," John said, his voice thick with desperation. "Let's go to the forest. Find a deer."

Amelia looked at him, still standing naked in the morning light. The absurdity of it hit her—standing on the porch of a rented cabin, covered in feathers, discussing whether she should help her transformed boyfriend mate with a wild animal.

"Okay," she said. "But we need to be careful. We don't know if it'll work."

"I know."

They walked together across the grass, toward the treeline. The ground was cool under Amelia's talons, the dew wetting her feathers. She felt exposed, vulnerable—every rustle of leaves made her flinch. The cabin disappeared behind them as they entered the forest, swallowed by shadows and green.

"This is embarrassing," Amelia muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Walking around completely naked."

"We're not human anymore," John said. "Animals don't wear clothes."

"That doesn't make me feel better."

They walked for what felt like an hour, weaving between trees, stepping over fallen logs. The forest was alive with sounds—birds calling, squirrels chattering, the distant rush of water. But no deer. No sign of any large animal.

John stopped, his shoulders sagging. "Nothing. We've been walking forever and there's nothing."

"Maybe they're deeper in." Amelia leaned against a tree, catching her breath. "Or maybe they're not active during the day."

"We can't wait until night. We'll freeze."

They stood in silence, the weight of failure pressing down on them. Amelia looked at John, really looked at him—his naked deer body, the fur covering his torso, his sheath visible against his belly, his hooves planted firmly on the mossy ground.

And then she noticed something she hadn't before.

"John," she said slowly. "What are those?"

He followed her gaze to his chest. There, nestled among the brown fur, were two small teats. Deer tits. Female.

Amelia pointed. "How do those feel?"

John's face flushed. "What? We need to figure out our next move, and you're asking about—"

"I'm curious." She stepped closer. "We've been so focused on everything else. We never really explored. How do they feel?"

John looked down at his own chest, his embarrassment clear. "I don't know."

Then he reached up with one hand, his fingers brushing against the fur. He gasped—a sharp, involuntary sound.

"They're... sensitive," he said, his voice strained. "Very sensitive."

Amelia moved closer, her talons crunching …