An Impulse

Heath morte dre Soul · 07-05-2010, 07:05 PM

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It should feel odd, shouldn’t it? The male stayed in his two legged form for so long, wouldn’t shifting back to his normal canine body feel foreign? But, it didn’t. Each time Heath returned back to the body that he had been in as a pup it was not a foreign feeling that he got at all. It was comforting, as if he had chosen to return home and there was something right about the decision. Heath had picked his regular secluded location, out north beyond the stables to strip off his jeans and leave his pocketknife and folded clothing on an old fallen log. He fell to his knees before setting off the change, easing his body into the shift with a deep breath and relaxed muscles.

Then he was back, amber eyes blinking, his four paws settled on the ground and all his toes feeling the soft earth. He sneezed, shook his coat out as if there might be dust on his black, gray and brown lupus pelt and then set out into the undergrowth. There were small trails, with old worn game tracks leading him into the forests of the pack lands.

Black nose fell to the ground, large coyote ears swiveling and working the wind that drifted around the trees that surrounded him. Small scuttling sounds spoke of arboreal small mammals, and he could not help but perk at their sound and scent. A squirrel was something to be ignored, but his stomach was empty and on the verge of protesting with rumbling growls. Heath set his nose to the ground once more and continued the search for something with a bit more substance.

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