Soul Bound

Chapter Four

Pleased with their work, they rush back outside to start scouting for armyworms in my garden. Niki pulls some weeds and T.K. fills the watering can again so she can water the plants. Wolf wants to keep watching them, but I tear my gaze away to find a bowl for the blackberries.

Bringing their snack, some water, and a blanket outside, I set up a little picnic area for us in the grass. The kids rush over, grabbing handfuls of blackberries. The pressure from their hands squeezes out the purple juice that immediately stains their fingers. They lie down on the blanket, delighting in the cool breeze and shade from the banyans. I sit down and pull T.K. into my lap, then start braiding her hair.

Niki watches intently as I fold the lengths of hair over each other. "You're not going to shift at all today?"

T.K. hears "shift" and sits up. "A bunny, oh please be a bunny!" she pleads.

"I can't, remember? Not until Finn gets back," I say.

Niki grimaces at my mention of Finn and I quickly change the subject.

"Besides, it has to be something bigger. I can't fit into the little shapes."

Last week she pleaded for a squirrel, the week before a chicken. Her huge imagination can't grasp my limitations

"It's like squeezing yourself into a pair of jeans six sizes too small," I'd tried to explain, "It's the same with bigger animals. Too big and I can't hold onto it. The raccoon is as small as I can get, and even that feels tight."

"A turtle, oh please be a turtle!" she says.

Niki groans, but my tilted head and stare stops him mid "ugh." He's working on being more patient with his little sister. "Patience is one of the keys of kindness," I told him.

"What's the biggest you can get?" he asks instead.

I rack through my animal repertoire: alligator, Wolf, black-tip shark, Wolf, deer, black bear, Wolf—

Damn it, Wolf, stop it. I can't let you out.

She keeps inserting her own image in my mind as I think—bobcat, raccoon, manatee, and grizzly. The grizzly is definitely my biggest. But the thought of it, the past with it, makes my heart ache. It's a painful memory that I avoid thinking about.

"I guess it's my grizzly bear," I admit.

"Can we see?" T.K. asks. "Please! We won't tell."

Finn did say it was just Wolf I couldn't shift into. Maybe this is a good opportunity. Maybe getting to share the grizzly form with the kids will mend some of the hurt. I can't avoid its shape forever.

"You have to promise. No tattle tailing," I say.

They both offer their pinky fingers and I intertwine each of mine with theirs.

"Promise," we all say in unison.

"Okay, stand back," I say, stretching a bit. It's been a while since I've attempted one of my larger forms. I need to limber up for this.

The kids back away and Niki puts his arm around T.K.'s shoulder. They're wiggling with excitement.

The grizzly form is deep in my mind, where I've been hiding it for the past six years. Wolf whines as I search for it; vivid memories of how I found the bear, and lost him, resurface. I ignore the twinge of guilt, have to get past it, and let my mind and body be consumed by the image of the grizzly: the appearance, the smell, and the feel of the animal. The thickness of fur, the weight of the paws, the heat of its breath. A familiar tingling sensation in my abdomen envelops me and then a pleasant electric sensation spreads from my navel over my entire body. Within seconds my human form shifts into an ursine one.