Cloy

What it looked like didn't mater. It could shift and change every second if it wanted. What was important was the air. At first, it'd be as it should be. If she stood in a field of grass, swaying softly in the breeze, then she could smell the wind and the earth as one should. If everything contorted to display a cold, dark cave then it'd be scented with murk and dampness. Likewise, if her surroundings changed to a shapeless white void, as they often did, her nose was clear. The air would be still and calm

Despite the ever-changingness of it all, it'd feel natural. It was like she was used to it, stepping in and out of worlds without a second's warning. It was nice to explore so much without a hint of effort. It'd all feel perfectly right until she caught wind of it. It was hard to explain in terms that others would understand. If the world was green and blue, sky and grass, then it was like a slash of vibrant, hot pink that burned the eyes by comparison. It was akin to the warning colors on a frog that, if not heeded, could kill. And yet, it wasn't visible. It was in the air

The scent would start so faint and harmless. It took her by surprise, made her want to follow its trail to see what could have possible caused its alien sweetness. If not so rich, it could have been pleasant. Even when it was weak, she got the feeling she would have to peer at the source from far away, perhaps with her tail across her nose. Intrigued, she'd follow it for a little while, the world around her twisting and shifting all the way. The more she continued on, the thicker the scent got until it wormed its way into her stomach and made her think maybe she wasn't so curious after all... She'd slow her pace, but keep going for a while. And then it'd get so dense that her head would start to spin. She'd turn around - it wasn't worth it. Once it was there, it wouldn't go away. It'd bury deep in her fur and she'd carry it with her while she tried to flee. No matter how much distance she put between herself and the trail, it was too late. The cloy was a part of her and would go stronger until she could stand it no more and her eyes would go dark