Nya…

Silence. I really don’t feel like getting up, and I’m insanely happy I woke up today without an alarm. These rare moments of bliss, especially on a Saturday, when the morning feels woven from soft light, when there’s nowhere to rush to, and you can just lie there, sprawled across the sheets…

I turn onto my side and stretch with pleasure, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket sliding over my skin. Everything’s so warm, so cozy…

— Uuuugh… nya… — slips from my mouth as I clumsily stretch out my arms, trying to get a good stretch, but immediately I feel something brushing against my cheeks, tickling my skin, and something weird moving around my chest. At first, I don’t understand what it is. I lift myself up slightly and glance around the room. It’s so bright here… soft golden light filters through the window, gently caressing everything around. A pleasant scent of wood and mossy earth fills my nose, creating the feeling that I didn’t just wake up in my house, but ended up somewhere deep in an ancient forest, in some secluded corner where nothing disturbs the peace. Tilting my head slightly, I notice green-covered hills visible outside the window, as if nature itself decided to give me a morning that asks for nothing.

— Nya, what is that… — I mumble to myself and immediately go quiet. Is that my voice? Why did I say “nya” again? With some confusion, I realize I don’t feel like I used to. And that feeling hits me out of nowhere. Like I’ve woken up in someone else’s body. Or…

I try to focus, but my eyes keep darting nervously around the room. An incredibly cozy room.

But that’s not the weirdest part. The weirdest part is what I feel on myself. Soft curves, roundness, unnatural, almost unfamiliar sensations, like something is moving where there was nothing before. In my chest. And with horror I realize—it’s breasts. Not big, more like neat and perky, but still… they’re there. And then… ears. Not just ears, but actual cat ears, twitching slightly under the gentle touch of sunlight. I feel the tips rising, as if that warm light is really sinking into them, caressing and filling them with something new, strange, and at the same time… very natural. As if those ears were always mine, like they’re not foreign—they’re mine, part of me.

I slowly sit up in bed, feeling some invisible force pulling my body along. I try to look at my hands, but they’re just too… small. Not mine. Tiny claws I can feel at the tips of my fingers. It’s strange. I tried to understand it, but I didn’t have time. Inhaling deeply, I catch the scent of wood and grass, and for some reason it makes me feel better. There’s this pull… to relax. To feel like I belong in this warm, green world, like I didn’t just end up here by accident. Maybe it’s a dream? Maybe I’m just… sleeping?

Suddenly, sounds come from outside the window. Birdsong, chirping something sweet and soft, and in the distance the sound of goats bleating brightly in the meadow. The world around me… it’s astonishingly peaceful, alive. And it feels like it’s all meant for me. For someone who woke up and doesn’t have to do anything. No rush, no need to hurry—there’s only time, warm light, and this world.

My head slowly sinks back onto the pillow, but for some reason the pillow doesn’t feel like the ones I’m used to. It’s softer. Warmer. I feel a little tail wrapping itself lazily around my leg, almost idly, and yet as if it’s holding me in this moment. I smile, not even knowing why.