It was now two days since Bindu left the Valley, and she was starting to feel the effects of living on her own. The girl huddled behind the shelter of a tall tree and tried to keep warm. She sorely missed the fireplace at the ranch house that never went out. There was a pathetic pile of sticks before her, the failed result of an attempt at fire; now Bindu had a ratty blanket in her mouth that she had scavenged from the wreck of an old house. The cold girl was trying to wrap it around her neck and midsection, keeping Jefferson's twirling scarf in mind.
Bindu shivered and, once again, dropped a corner of the blanket because of her chattering teeth. Despite her struggling, she did not once wish that she had the fingers of a wolf in optime form. The young wolfdog remembered how, in the desert, shape-shifters were regarded with disgust. Her mother said over and over that they were unnatural, evil, that they would end up like the humans. So although Bindu had made friends with several Luperci, like Geneva and Jefferson, the sight of one still made her uncomfortable.
But the girl did wonder what it would be like to have fingers and to walk on two legs instead of four. She thought about it now, while clumsily tucking a fold of the blanket beneath one of her forelegs.
The teen had almost forgotten the notion a few minutes later when she began to feel strange. The blanket slipped off of her small form as she stood; the thin fur on the hybrid's neck tingled, almost as if it were growing longer. Bindu did not panic yet, as she figured it was the wind or something ruffling her fur. The girl was about to settle again when she felt herself grow a few inches. Now she was panicked.
Her legs were lengthening, re-forming, thinning, and her breath grew short and ragged. Fear clutched at her heart, draining her sense away. It only took a few minutes of this sick growing for the teen to realize what was happening; she was becoming one of them. The girl's body was going to continue growing until she was a two-leg.
A stream of thought filled Bindu's head and consumed her, Oh no mother is going to hate me I'm a two-leg I'm evil monster I am one of them one of them two-leg-two-leg-evil-two-. Desolate tears filled her big black eyes and streamed down into her fur with every centimeter grown. Now she was not a dog anymore, but a two-leg.
Bindu wailed miserably, but her voice was lost on the wind. Minutes passed. For a while, the growth halted, the girl being stuck in an ugly and lopsided halfway form. She was too distressed for the shifting to progress any farther, and her shoulders quaked in terrified sobs. Nothing the teen had experienced in life so far had taught her how to deal with this; fear, anger, distress, hopelessness, disgust, hatred. I will never think of two-legs again I will never ever think or see a two-leg again make it stop please please please ...
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