To be or not to be a ferret

Life was simple. Sleep half the day, eat a berry here, an apple there. All of the hustle and bustle and troubles just passed him by. No one bothered him like this. None of the huge, loud humans. And none of those awful reapers. That was what he liked most about being a ferret; the reapers couldn't find him. Let the big smelly beasts worry about them. He was content like this.

And as such he found himself enjoying yet another lazy day, chasing butterflies and dragonflies through the meadow by the small pond out in the farmer's field. He liked it best here. A barn full of warm straw to sleep in, peace and quiet broken only on occasion by the cow's soft call. And best of all was the little blond girl that lived in the big house beside the barn. She would carry him inside under her jacket, whenever it stormed too hard, and would calm his nerves by feeding him dinner scraps and cat food. She was the best.

He knew his kind wasn't supposed to like humans, but this one wasn't a normal human. This one was small and sweet, and she loved him. That was okay, right? Not that there was anyone around to judge him.

Being a ferret rarely had its downsides. Sure, he wasn't as fast as he was in his normal form, and sometimes it was difficult to reach things, being so small. None of that mattered much to him, though. All he cared about was this wondrous world he got to live in.

He was lost in his thoughts again, jumping and twisting and pretending to clasp his small paws around the creatures flitting about in the air, when a sudden loud noise broke his contentment. Thunder!

The small creature turned mid-air, his legs running before his paws hit the ground. Thunder was loud and scary, and rainstorms were even worse! They made him all wet and icky. He threw himself into his burrow as fast as he could, hoping more than anything that the small girl would come take him to safety before the rain began to fall too heavily.

But... where was the rain?

He peeked out, sniffing the air, waiting apprehensively for a droplet of rain to wet his nose. There was no rain. No trip-trap of moisture hitting ground. No more thunder. Had he been mistaken? Was that boom not thunder?

For a few more moments he waited, watching the sky, waiting for his dreaded enemy. Still no rain.

Eventually, his boundless energy and the wonder of the midday dragonflies were too much to resist, and he was scampering to his meadow once more to play. The ferret danced for a while longer, tiring himself in the best way.

Finally he allowed himself a break, pattering to the water's edge for a drink from the cold pond. Yes, being a ferret was quite nice indeed.

Except for those rare times, he thought again. As it was now, as he watched the ladybug struggle in the water. The poor thing couldn't swim, and it had nothing in reach to cling to. He reached out a paw, but this form was just too small. He couldn't reach. To dive in would mean to splash about and push the ladybug away. There was nothing a ferret could do.

He wasn't a ferret, though. The creature shifted, body becoming larger, though not by much. Still he could not reach the drowning bug, but he needn't reach. In this form, he could pick up a nearby branch with which to extend to offer the ladybug a mount. The insect gladly took the proffered stick, granted a second chance at life.

This was what was best about life, the yokai mused. He could take such joy in the beauty of the world around him, and in turn his existence could help the world, even in such a small way. So lost was he in watching that world he adored, that he did not feel the movement behind him. Not until it was too late.