Chapter Three Lacey/Piper My name is Lacey. Lacey means “cheerful”, “calm,” and “cat.” I’m definitely not cheerful. I spend most of my time trying to fit in. I’m definitely not calm. I spend most of my time overthinking everything. And the cat part? Well, I’m a fox therian and a raven therian. My fox theriotype is through a soul walk-in, but my raven theriotype is from a past life. I remember a lot. But what I remember most is my death. I was mauled to death by a cat. You see why I hate my name so much. For now, you can call me Piper. In other news, I just found out that my sister is a possible therian. It all made sense now. The barking, the crawling around on four legs, the wishing she was an animal… I guess I just thought she was acting like me. Yesterday, it felt like a weight was lifted off of my shoulders. My sister was the first person I had ever told that I was a therian. And with research, we discovered that she is a therian too. I’m just overjoyed. Someone to do quads with, someone to make crafts with, someone to talk about therianthropy with… and it’s my sister. That’s an amazing bonus. I was writing all of this information down in my diary when suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. It startled me so much that my phantom fox ears perked up for a second before disappearing again. I slammed my notebook closed instinctively. It was my mom. I hadn’t told her that I was a therian yet. “Yeah, mom, what is it?” I asked, trying to keep the nerves out of my voice. “You’re late for school, hun. Are you all ready?” She asked me. “Yeah, of course.” I said, tucking my notebook in my backpack. “Give me a minute.” I walked out of my room and started to get ready for the walk to school. I peeked in my sister’s room to see that she was wearing her cat ears and she was hooking on her new yarn tail that I made her. A pang of slight envy came into my heart. I wish I was that brave. Maybe I can be. I looked into my room and peeked at the ethical farm fox tail that I had bought a few days ago. Maybe I could wear it… maybe. I shook my head at myself. “No.” I thought, “It’s too dangerous. Everyone will make fun of me.” I sighed, grabbed my bag, and started to walk to school. The walk was mostly peaceful, The Milk Carton playing in my headphones as I read Warrior Cats. Suddenly, just when I was about to arrive at the school, someone grabbed the book out of my hands.
sorry for taking so long mrow welcome to the void idk I’m weird (in a good way)
