Img source: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/58005055
Artist: UKA·昸
I think this might be my new shortest caption. It was interesting to try, but I definitely prefer writing longer ones.
Leona climbs onto the rock she set up camp around, and yawns as she stretches and leans back. Even with the athletic body she had nowadays, she could use a moment to rest after finishing her morning routine.
She gently pats the head of Moose, her loyal guard dog, wags his tail and nuzzles into her hand in return. Behind her back, she opens her bag with her free hand, and takes out an apple, and a notebook.
Though she didn't know who had written the notebook, it fascinated her. She had found it several months ago, left behind in the library of an abandoned town.
It contained countless notes detailing the writer's knowledge on magic, or thaumatology as they consistently called it.
Curiously, some of the later pages seemed to be written by a different person, the last of which describing a method to make an invisible transformative mine of sorts.
At first, she, or rather he at the time, assumed that it was all fictional. But then, just as he wanted to put the notebook down and leave, he noticed that his hand appeared softer and more slender.
After that, it didn't take her long to figure out that she must have triggered one of the mines the previous owner of the notebook had made, which had transformed her into a cat girl.
At first, she was troubled by this, and took the notebook in the hopes of finding a way to get her old body back. She scoured the notebook for a way to do just that every day, but over time her goal and motive changed.
She grew used to her new body, and even came to like it more than her old one. Physically, she was undeniably more fit than she'd ever been. Her reflexes and senses were far sharper than those of any regular person, making it a lot easier to catch food.
And most importantly, Moose still recognised her.
With that, she really didn't have much reason to want to turn back left. She instead continues reading the notebook out of simple curiosity, even if she didn't have any practical need for it any more.
