# Welcome to Fantasy Traffic Hell
Ivan's first sensation upon arriving in his new life was the unmistakable feeling of face-planting into something that smelled suspiciously like decomposing leaves and regret. His second sensation was the realization that his face was significantly closer to the ground than it used to be, which either meant he'd shrunk considerably or gravity had gotten more aggressive during his interdimensional travel.
He tried to push himself up and discovered two things: first, his arms had been replaced by four legs, and second, those legs were covered in gray fur that looked like it hadn't seen a decent grooming in several geological epochs. Fantastic. Seraphina had turned him into what appeared to be a wolf—specifically, a wolf with the coordination of a newborn giraffe on roller skates.
"Oh, wonderful," Ivan muttered, his voice now emerging as a series of growls and whimpers that somehow still managed to convey sarcasm. "I specifically asked to avoid traffic, and she dumps me in a forest where I can't even walk properly. This is definitely an improvement over my Honda Civic."
He attempted to stand, which resulted in a graceful maneuver that could generously be described as "interpretive dance" and more accurately as "complete disaster." His new legs seemed to have their own opinions about where they should go, and those opinions were in violent disagreement with each other.
After several minutes of what could charitably be called "learning to wolf," Ivan managed to achieve something resembling vertical stability. He looked around at his new environment and immediately understood why Seraphina had been laughing. The forest was gorgeous—towering trees that seemed to scrape the belly of the sky, dappled sunlight filtering through leaves like nature's own disco ball, and the kind of pristine wilderness that made environmental activists weep with joy.
It was also, Ivan realized with growing horror, completely lacking in roads, vehicles, or any form of motorized transportation.
"Oh, you clever cosmic comedian," he growled. "No traffic because there are no roads. Technically correct, the worst kind of correct."
A rustling in the nearby bushes caught his attention, and Ivan's new enhanced senses—one of his twenty allegedly helpful gifts—immediately kicked into overdrive. He could smell something approaching, something that smelled like wet fur, territorial aggression, and what he could only describe as "recent violence." His enhanced survival instincts, another of Seraphina's generous presents, started screaming warnings in his brain with the subtlety of a fire alarm in a library.
Three wolves emerged from the undergrowth, and Ivan's first thought was that they looked significantly more competent at being wolves than he did. They moved with fluid grace, their eyes sharp and intelligent, and their body language clearly communicating that they had opinions about unauthorized wolves appearing in their territory. Strong, violent opinions.
The largest of the three, a magnificent specimen with scars that suggested he'd won several arguments and probably started a few more, stepped forward and released a growl that would have made Ivan's old Honda engine sound like a whisper.
"Great," Ivan muttered. "My first day as an animal, and I'm already dealing with the local homeowners association. Except instead of complaints about my lawn, they're probably going to eat my face."
The alpha wolf—because of course it was an alpha, Ivan's luck was nothing if not consistently terrible—began circling him with the kind of predatory grace that suggested this wasn't his first time dealing with trespassers. The other two flanked Ivan, completing what military strategists would call an "encirclement" and what Ivan would call "a really bad day getting worse."
Ivan's mind raced through his options. He could try to run, but given his current coordination issues, that would likely result in him face-planting into a tree with the force of a small meteorite. He could try to fight, but he had the combat experience of a particularly pacifist librarian. Or he could try one of his new abilities.
**Universal Communication** - the skill that supposedly let him understand all languages, including animal body language. Ivan focused, trying to make sense of the complex dynamics playing out before him. The alpha's posture was aggressive but not immediately lethal—more "explain yourself" than "prepare to die," though the distinction seemed academic when you were surrounded by creatures that could use your ribcage as a chew toy.
"Uh, hello there," Ivan attempted, which came out as a series of whimpers and yips that he hoped translated to something friendlier than "please eat me slowly."
The alpha tilted his head, surprise flickering across his lupine features. Apparently, Ivan's attempt at communication had been more successful than expected, though whether that was a good thing remained to be seen.
The big wolf rumbled something that Ivan's new linguistic abilities translated roughly as: "Strange scent. Not pack. Explain presence or face consequences." Though the exact phrasing might have been more along the lines of "What are you, where are you from, and should we kill you now or after dinner?"
Ivan's **Enhanced Survival Instincts** suggested that honesty might be the best policy, assuming honesty didn't involve explaining that he was a reincarnated human who had died in traffic and been given superpowers by a giggling goddess. That seemed like the kind of story that would result in immediate violence from creatures who probably had strong opinions about mental stability.
"I'm... new to the area," Ivan replied, which was technically true and hopefully vague enough to avoid immediate execution. "Just passing through. No intention of causing trouble."
This prompted a discussion among the three wolves that sounded like a combination of growls, yips, and what Ivan's communication ability interpreted as philosophical debate about territorial law and the proper handling of suspicious strangers. It was like listening to a legal proceeding conducted entirely in threatening animal sounds.
The alpha finally turned back to Ivan, his expression suggesting he'd reached a decision that might or might not involve dismemberment. "You are... different. Scent is wrong. Speech is wrong. But no threat detected." A pause that felt longer than Ivan's original commute from hell. "You may pass. But pack watches. Trouble brings consequences."
"Understood," Ivan replied, trying to project an air of calm competence while internally celebrating the fact that he wasn't about to become a wolf-shaped chew toy.
As the three wolves melted back into the forest with the kind of fluid grace that Ivan could only dream of achieving, he reflected on his first successful use of his new abilities. **Universal Communication** had worked, though he suspected his accent was probably atrocious. It was like speaking French with a pronunciation that made native speakers weep.
He began walking—or rather, attempting to walk while maintaining something resembling dignity—deeper into the forest. His **Heightened Senses** were providing a constant stream of information that was both fascinating and overwhelming. He could smell things he'd never even known had smells: the metallic scent of minerals in distant rocks, the complex bouquet of different tree species, and what his brain insisted was the aromatic signature of "something large and carnivorous that had been this way recently."
After an hour of stumbling through the wilderness like a tourist with particularly poor planning skills, Ivan encountered his second major challenge: a stream that might as well have been the Amazon River for all his current coordination could handle. The water bubbled merrily over rocks, looking for all the world like a Disney movie backdrop, except Disney movies didn't usually feature protagonists who were afraid of ankle-deep water.
"Right," Ivan muttered, staring at the stream. "I can supposedly mimic other creatures' abilities, I have enhanced physical conditioning, and I'm afraid of a puddle. This is definitely an improvement over my previous life."
He activated his **Apex Mimicry** ability, focusing on his memories of the wolves he'd just encountered. The sensation was indescribable—like his entire body was being rewritten from the inside out, cells shifting and reforming according to new specifications. When the transformation completed, he looked down to see that his form had changed subtly. He was still a wolf, but now he moved with something approaching the fluid grace he'd observed in the alpha.
More importantly, when he approached the stream, his body seemed to know exactly how to cross it. Muscle memory that wasn't his own guided his movements as he leaped from rock to rock with surprising agility. It was like having a GPS system for physical movement, except instead of directing him to the nearest Starbucks, it was helping him not drown in a creek.
On the far side of the stream, Ivan paused to consider the implications of what had just happened. He had literally absorbed and replicated the physical capabilities of creatures he'd barely interacted with. It was the kind of ability that fantasy heroes spent entire novels developing, and he'd managed it on his first try. Either Seraphina had been more generous than she'd let on, or there was a catch he hadn't discovered yet.
Given his luck, it was definitely the catch option.
As if summoned by his pessimistic thoughts, a new challenge presented itself in the form of what could only be described as "traffic." Not the automotive kind—Seraphina had been technically truthful about that—but rather a migration of some kind of large, herbivorous creatures that looked like someone had crossed a buffalo with a rhinoceros and then given the result anger management issues.
They were moving in a steady stream along what appeared to be a well-worn path through the forest, their massive forms creating a living roadblock that stretched as far as Ivan could see in either direction. Each creature was roughly the size of a small truck, covered in thick hide that looked capable of stopping bullets, and equipped with horns that suggested they had strong opinions about personal space.
"You have got to be kidding me," Ivan growled, staring at the procession of mega-fauna. "I specifically, explicitly asked to avoid traffic. This is traffic! It's just traffic with more horns and significantly worse exhaust emissions!"
The creatures—his **Universal Communication** ability identified their grunts and snorts as something roughly equivalent to "move along, nothing to see here, stay out of our way or become a speed bump"—showed no signs of deviating from their path or accelerating their pace. They moved with the inexorable determination of commuters who had somewhere to be and weren't going to let minor inconveniences like other living beings interfere with their schedule.
Ivan settled down to wait, because apparently even in a fantasy world populated by magical creatures and governed by cosmic beings with questionable senses of humor, some things never changed. You still ended up stuck behind slow-moving traffic, watching your day disappear while forces beyond your control dictated the pace of your existence.
The only difference was that this traffic could probably trample him into a pancake if he got too impatient.
As he watched the seemingly endless parade of massive herbivores lumber past, Ivan reflected on the cosmic joke his existence had become. He'd died trying to escape traffic, been reincarnated specifically to avoid traffic, given twenty supernatural abilities to help him navigate his new life, and somehow still ended up sitting beside a forest path watching creatures move at the speed of geological processes.
"Well played, Seraphina," he muttered. "Well played indeed."
A particularly large specimen passed close enough for Ivan to smell its breath, which was reminiscent of fermented vegetation and poor life choices. The creature glanced at him with eyes that held all the intellectual depth of a puddle, grunt-snorted something that probably translated to "nice day for a migration," and continued on its way.
Ivan sighed—a sound that came out as more of a whine in his current form—and settled in for what promised to be a very long wait. At least this traffic jam came with better scenery and significantly less air pollution.
Though he was beginning to suspect that the exhaust problem might be worse than he'd initially thought.