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Summary
This was the last time Ryoma accepted anything from suspicious, wandering vendors. No, really. He means it this time.
He was just lucky he had caught his reflection in a nearby trickling stream before he wandered back into the busier parts of town. It had taken him a few moments to really understand what he was seeing, though, because it appeared as if his ears had become those a cow's. Floppy and fluffy, the same colour black as his hair. Small horns sat nestled upon his head, and just when he thought the surprises were over, his tail swished into view.