X-Team Three

Part Ten: (Lawson) Shifted

Oh man, this feels good. I curl my paws into the cool, moist earth beneath me and my eyes close in pure ecstasy. It's been too long.

Are we going to go or what, boss?

My eyes pop open when Trace's voice appears in my head, and I look over at him. I swear his bear has gotten larger since the last time I'd seen him shift. My wolf is three times the size of a regular adult wolf, and it looks like Trace's bear has doubled in size.

Yes. Just give me a minute to re-familiarize myself here. I haven't shifted in months. I stand up and shake the dirt and dead leaves out of my grey coat.

Trace snorts and begins rubbing his back against a tree. I hear a loud purr in my ear and whip around with a snarl. Tanga's sitting next to me, cleaning behind her ear.

Don't do that, woman! I yell through our shifter mental connection. I could've killed you!

She narrows her amber tiger eyes at me. Don't flatter yourself, Lawson. I'm too fast for you.

I growl and turn around, heading off to the northwest, and both of them start following me.

I want to hunt. Trace states. I can feel his excitement through the connection.

When we find the river, we'll hunt. I promise. I reply.

We walk in silence for a few minutes, taking in the beauty of the forest around us. I always forget just how weak my human ears are compared to my wolf's. I can hear small, insignificant animals scrambling through the leaves around us, going about their daily lives. I can even pick up the river off to our west even though it's still quite a distance away. The peace I feel as a lethal animal is soothing in almost any situation, but at this moment after not having shifted for so long, the longing to stay in wolf form for the rest of my existence is tempting. I know I can't for the sake of the X-team, but it's nice to dream.

My super hearing picks up on the growl Trace's stomach releases, and I sigh. His appetite as a bear is insatiable. Where's that damn river?

God, I'm-

Starving. Tanga finishes for Trace. Yes, we know. I think my brothers and sisters in the Serengeti heard your stomach. I doubt we can find a honey pot for you, though. I close my eyes and huff. Here we go again.

Trace releases a low growl. I don't smell any cat nip either. And if you don't watch your mouth, I'll have you declawed.

You'd have to catch me first you lumbering sack of rotten salmon. Hunting down a picnic basket a bit difficult for ya, Yogi?

Alright. I groan. Enough. Let's pay attention to what we're doing here. If that river sneaks up on us, we might stumble across some rafters, and I doubt the rapids will be very frightening after they get an eyeful of us.

Trace huffs but stays quiet. Well, as quiet as a 1,000 pound black bear can be. Tanga and I barely make a sound as we prowl through the forest. Trace, however, is cracking every stick he steps on and shuffling through the fall leaves like a giant, furry rake. I roll my eyes and attempt to dampen my annoyance from being broadcast through the mental connection.

A while later, the sound of rushing water gets loud enough that it begins to make me nervous. I make a sharp turn due north to stay as far away as possible. It's bear hunting season, and a bear the size of Trace would be so far beyond trophy size that he'd set a world record. No matter how annoying his and Tanga's back and forth banter is, I really don't want to be responsible for his hide underfoot in front of a fire place and head displayed proudly on a wall. I wouldn't be much of a leader if I let that happen, but killing a human, even to keep Trace safe, is unacceptable to me.

I hear Tanga stop walking and gaze back at her over my shoulder. Her eyes are closed, snout in the air. Oh man. She whispers. You smell that?

Just as she brings my attention around, I pick up what she's referring to. Deer. A couple hundred yards northeast of us. My mouth begins to water as my killer instinct threatens to take over. Stay alert, I tell myself over and over again. Deer would taste wonderful right now, but we must keep an eye out for humans. There aren't any trails near here, but hunters tend to avoid them, preferring to come farther into the woods where it's quieter. They're our main threat right now.

What are we waiting for? She asks, beginning to silently but quickly prowl toward the delectable scent.

Dammit, Tanga! Stop! We need to make sure it's safe! I snap through our connection. She continues to slink toward the deer, however, as if she didn't hear me. As if I didn't even exist. Stop! That's an order!

She freezes and looks back over her shoulder at me, her tail twitching wildly and eyes narrowed in contempt.

Permission to speak frankly, sir. She says, sitting down and putting just enough emphasis on sir to raise the fur on my back.

You've never had to ask for permission to speak. I say as I approach her. You know that.

And you've never pulled rank either. Her eyes narrow more as they track me, and her ears flatten against her head.

I don't smell any humans, Lawson. Trace states from behind me. I can always depend on him to take my side whenever there's a disagreement between me and Tanga. Apparently, I had it all wrong. Or maybe it's just his damn stomach choosing his words for him.

I don't either, but we need to be cautious. If we're seen, you know what could happen.

Well, let me know when you're comfortable, boss. Tanga hisses sarcastically.

The alpha wolf in me wants to snarl her into submission. It's my first instinct in this situation. But I need to remember that there's a human in this furry animal body somewhere, too, who uses compromise and civility to solve problems.

I step up beside her, forcing my anger and nervousness down, and they give way to a strong competitive streak. It's time to break the tension a little here. I open my mouth and let my tongue hang out the corner like some sort of dopey domesticated dog. If a tiger could raise an eyebrow, she would be right then. Then I wink and bolt off in the direction of the deer.

Didn't want you getting a head start! I shout.

Oh you ass! She replies. I hear her take off after me which only makes me run faster.

Wait for me! Trace yells, his giant, round bear body crashing through the trees like a wrecking ball.

If we waited for you, the dear would be dead of old age. Tanga replies.

As the scent of our prey becomes overwhelming, I allow my wolf to take over, and my thoughts quiet. Pure, natural instinct now leads me forward, and I crouch down as I slink toward the open field with tall grass ahead of me. This feels so natural that it's almost unnatural. Too much time as a human I suppose. I spot the deer, five of them, just as Tanga arrives at my side. She coils and pounces without a second thought, a flash of orange flying through the clearing. Shit! She's going to scare them all away!

I'm about to follow, but I smell the humans before I see them. My wolf instincts fade instantly, fear taking over and freezing me in place. Tanga! Stop! Humans! But I'm a second too late. A loud pop echoes off the trees around us, and I flatten myself to the ground. It's followed by the sharp scent of gunpowder. Tanga disappears in the tall grass, and her mental connection goes silent. I can't see the deer from this low to the ground, but I can hear five sets of hooved feet scatter off into the forest in the opposite direction of the hunters. I can only pray that the shot was a miss, but when my nose picks up the metallic scent of blood, I know that whatever they were shooting at was hit. If the deer all ran off...

Oh God no! Tanga!