watch the ripples change their size

OOC: Set in Jordheim around.. nowish? xD

IC:
Abby had gathered every scrap of information she could about shifting; she had begged for anecdotes from family, friends and anyone she happened upon. Shiloh was usually the target of these questions, and Abigail Sadira's biggest, most crucial question – the one she felt she would die without the answer to – was when. The girl was unafraid of the change which would soon be overtaking her – she had armed herself with knowledge, after all, and Mumma could talk her through anything.

The white streaked with brown youth lay in front of the very window she had tried to climb out of so many times as a toddler, watching snowflakes drift down and disappear as they kissed the ground. It was boring, watching the snow fall, and Abby longed to be out playing with Alessan or exploring the pack lands in greater depth than she really should be after the scrapes she'd had previously.

Somewhere a bird cried and the young Sadira girl, bored to the point of childish frustration, felt like joining in. She lifted her head to howl a petulant reply, but something felt odd as she did so. There was a feeling of tension travelling up her spine, making her unable to twist around and see what was going on with her body. For a good minute Abby was frozen, feeling the tickle of lengthening hair travel down her cheeks, making her want to laugh – laugh, cry, jump for joy, call for her mother – actually, that last one was a good idea.

There was a pop and a grunt as the pale Princess' limbs began to lengthen, but Abby had finally found her voice. Mumma was never far away, so she unleashed her usually sweet voice in a panicked yell. “Mumma? Mumma! Mumma, it's h-happening!” A long, low whimper left the girl as she tried to rise. Armed with all her knowledge, she was useless when it came to the actual experience. “Stay calm, Abby,” she ordered herself through gritted teeth as her limbs continued to stretch. Surely they were long enough by now? In reality they had grown a couple of inches at the most. Abby's plan had to take this all in her stride as she believed she did with everything else – her parents living separate lives in separate packs; the frozen winter which made the summer child's bones rattle as they seemed to be doing now. The bird cried again, and Abby cried with him.

[415]

381 words. Since I'd still like to do this and this is LASKY, it's time for something a bit different in terms of my reply. :D

Vináttan children had to be the most well watched-over -- though there were so damn many of the Viking pups, there was rarely ever a great distance between pack mates or someone to heed the cry. Often times, the messengers ended up being cats.

Wilson had been curled up on the sewing table, napping -- as any cat was wont to do -- when the sudden piercing cry of the young she-wolf startled him awake. His tail puffed out behind him, a white bottlebrush, and he stared over the edge of the table to watch Abigail. All of the girl was changing, seemingly melting into a longer shape, drawn-out and unusual. Another feline might have been startled half to death by the sight, and the panic in the cry, but Wilson was quick to simply leap down onto the floor and pad toward the girl.

He was quick to give her a head-bonk. "It shouldn't hurt, love," he meowed. "It feels strange then it's over -- just breathe easy, all right?" That was what Levent had said when the cat and wolf had been little more than scruffy yearlings.

He'd always been fascinated by Luperci, and the first few months of their friendship had been a lot of back-and-forth questions -- what's the deal with clothes, how the hell do you even purr. But there was a strange wonder in this, because he'd never witnessed a canine shift for the first time that he could remember. He also felt a weird twisting in his stomach to know that his own children would not go through the same thing. Most of them seemed to understand that and take to their feline-ness, though Aysun had been a bit disturbed to find Dreyma shifted.

He lifted his head and meowed -- and Muddy materialized from some corner of the house. Her yellow gaze fell with concern on Abigail, but Wilson meowed again for her attention and asked for her to find Shiloh. The tortoiseshell's gaze lingered on the girl, but she went to the back window of the house and squeezed out of it, hitting the ground running to find the Araedi.

"You okay?" Wilson prompted the Sadira girl. He came nearer, purring to comfort her.

The strange crackling sensation in the girl's skeleton continued in shivering waves, lengthening and readjusting limbs which felt alien to Abi. She was frozen, her eyes tightly shut until Wilson tapped her on the head with a white paw, murmuring that it wouldn't hurt. If Abi thought about it, it didn't – so she let the strange sensations take over her, trying to ride them out. The youngster twitched intermittently as her legs lengthened and the placing of her hips changed, but she kept her eyes on Wilson, losing his gaze only briefly when Muddy came into the room.

“I'm o-okay. It's just weird,” Abi confirmed, gritting her teeth as the next strange wave brought dark brown curls falling over her eyes. For a panicked second, Abi thought she had been blinded, but when she managed to focus her eyes on the veil of sepia she could see the texture, the kinks and twists and individual strands. Her senses seemed to be on high alert, with Wilson's purr a drumming in her ears which kept her breathing steady and deep.

There was a peculiar oozing feeling in her paws. Abi looked down at them and found that the usually muddied appendages she was used to had lengthened; where there had once been a dainty paw long, slim fingers now resided. The sight was bizarre when Abi thought of the hand as her own, but when she compared it to Mumma's hands, or her Uncles', she felt sudden optimism. If she looked normal then everything was going fine.

The child's gaze remained on the back of her right hand, mostly to keep her mind off what her back end was doing: flattening somewhat, her hindpaws extending gradually. She could have wiggled her toes if she'd had the nerve to do so halfway through her very first shift.

She wished Mumma could have seen the whole thing, and prayed to every God she knew that she would get here soon. She spared a prayer for her Dad, too, though the Sadira girl knew he was kept away with the business of being a King. He would have wanted to be here, and that was what was important.

[365]

(345) This post is crap but it's LASKY and SSWM so I don't care.

There was magic in a cat's purr -- and Wilson knew this, even if he had never been able to specifically prove it. Even cats in pain purred, to calm them, to heal them, and Wilson thought that sometimes nights spent curled up on Levent's back, the whole of his body buzzing with the soft, rolling sound, had saved the Luperci's life once or twice. He could only hope that it would soothe Abigail, too, even though her mother was curiously absent. Ever since the kidnapping, he'd noted Shiloh's worry concerning leaving her offspring alone for too long,and he found it odd she wasn't here now.

Abigail answered him through gritted teeth, and Wilson watched as the fur along her nape grew out, dark, and curled as it spilled over her ears. Resisting the urge to bat at it, he watched the rest of her body instead -- her elongating paws, her legs stretching out behind her. He continued to purr, softly, and waited.

The door flew open as the youth was nearing the end of her shift. Shiloh looked wild, her hair in disarray, the flower perched by her ear in danger of tumbling. She glanced down at her daughter, cerulean eyes sharp with concern, but relaxed and stepped forward. With the grace and composure only she was capable of in moments like this, she knelt down, careful not to wrinkle her dress. She reached out to touch the youth, stroke her fur, while her own hairs laid flat again against her neck and shoulders. Wilson had a feeling Muddy hadn't gotten the message across right, and so perhaps Shiloh had thought the tortoiseshell queen's urgency had been a warning of something wrong.

There, your mum's here, you're fine, Wilson said, as Shiloh tried to gather her daughter's newly-shifted body closer.

You're so beautiful, baby girl, she praised, stroking her daughter's curly hair -- the King's hair, no doubt -- and glancing at the tom. Thanks, Wils. Abi, do you feel okay?