Shifting always comes with a level of discomfort. It’s unavoidable, considering the changes to your body. I’m good at mine, so the sound of my bones cracking and muscles shifting is minimal compared to the stalker.
I was prepared to fight without transforming. But since the stink decided to pull out his wolf first, well. You don’t fight a wolf in human form unless you’re okay with having 42 very sharp knives coming for your very unprotected neck.
Instead of a half-shift, he becomes a scrawny 4-foot-5 wolf with graying, crinkled fur. I have a size advantage at 4-foot-8. I can’t take that for granted, though.
The stalker charges at me with a snarl, and I growl right back, keeping my ground.
I dodge to the right, his teeth clacking as he misses. A swift turn, and I’m jumping at his back.
