The beast looks at me with pale blue eyes barely noticeable in the fog, with thin and weak looking limbs and patchy fur the only thing really allowing me to notice it. I recognize it though I have never seen a live one. It was a fog wolf, a dangerous creature that usually hunts in packs. Hopefully this one is alone. I brace my back against the tree as I hear its low growl. With slow movements it walks in a circle around me once it’s behind me. I lose all sight of it with quick glances in every direction possible. I try to find the furless patches along its hide. I think I see movement out of the corner of my eye and snap to it but I was wrong. It was in front of me. The one thing saving me from it coming at my neck is my greater height.
I roar out in pain as I feel the jaws clamp down on my left forearm. The elk wants to throw it off to send it flying to give room to move, the firebearer knows the jaws need to be released to stop more damage done as it’s flung off, the bear only wants it to die in pain. With no time to decide which to do, I give into all my instincts. With the bear's anger I clamp down on the top of its skull and with crushing might I lift up the top jaw. The firebearers knowledge shows me now is the chance to remove it from myself. Finally the elk’s need to be free from it guides my throw to the forest floor. Before it can recover, my feet stomp it till it’s nothing but mush.
The adrenaline fades, cleaning the blood rushing from my ears, and my vision widens. There is still growling surrounding me, and the mushed up fog wolf in front of me has different fur patches. Quickly glancing up I spot many faint blue dots surrounding me, blurry spots of bear skin surround me. Too many wolves to fight. I need to break through but I'm surrounded and I'm too slow. I paused all of my pauses . We aren't fast enough as I am now but we can change. We can change to be able to burst through the surrounding wolves.
With a deep breath I pause, trying to muster up a feeling of change. Trying to catch a feeling that I have no idea for besides what the others in the village have told me about what they feel when they do. I can’t find it and I roar out again in anger in desperation, three more wolves charge two jumping to clamp down on my shoulders and one gets on my right ankle. I roar out ending with a bugle, I swipe at the one on my ankle sinking my claws into it but the movement causes tearing in my shoulders as the wolves slide around but keep their grip firm. With one shout in pain and in desperation I yell out.
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“I. NEED. TO. CHANGE!!!!” Soon I hear my blood rushing through my ears, a creaking and snapping noise soon echoes out but no pain besides my wounds finds me. My hands and feet begin changing, arms and legs lengthening, soon I need to slam them down as my legs can’t support the full weight of my changing body. The two wolves on my shoulders pop off, losing their hold as I glance at them, their lower jaws hanging loosely. With a huff I truly let out a bellowing roar ending in a deafening bugle. Then with one kick of my back leg the wolf hanging on my ankle gets flung off into the tree behind me letting out a pained whimper after its body flops to the ground. Bringing my arm over to grip once of the pest that was hanging on my shoulder I dug my claws into its body before throwing it forward at my hunters. Bringing my head down I take my pack into my mouth not caring for any damage I cause to it. Lowering my head down so that my antlers are pointed towards the remaining wolves, I charge.
With new found speed in my beastial form I charge forward, the wolves not wanting to skewer although desperate and starving move out of the way not risking death for no gain. Once I clear the line I raise my head like the elk reminds me but I keep charging, causing a path of destruction of snapped limbs off of trees and cleared brush. I keep going even as my paws get sore and my legs get heavy. I continue forward. Eventually I made it out of the fog. Out of breath and barely standing I look back at the fog and pale eyes and blurry bodies staring at me from the fog unwilling to cross the line between thick and thin haze. I drop the pack and begin panting.
I’m injured and bleeding and exhausted, but I need to keep going to find shelter, not a clearing but proper shelter from everything that wants to kill me. Picking up my pack in my mouth again I continue forward with shaking and heavy legs. Starting out I try hiding the small blood trail leaking from my legs and shoulders, but eventually that becomes too much effort to continue so I keep walking, everything blurs together but I continue ignoring the sharp and searing pain growing in my limbs but I can't stop. I won’t stop until I find some form of safety away from everything. I just need to find something.
As the last of my strength begins to deplete, I spot a place with potential. A wide hole in the ground but not too steep and big enough for me. Slowly but surely with heavy eyes I do my best to inch my way into the mouth of the tunnel. Repositioning my head periodically to untangle my antlers from the hanging moss and roots. Once I'm as deep as I'm willing and able to go, I curl up having some difficulty adjusting to my body's new shape. Spending the last drops of strength I lick my now clotted wounds. Then the darkness takes me as I sleep covered and in darkness for the first time in many days.
