He could not stop shivering. He just wanted it to stop. The aching. The horrible bone cracking experience did not tear up his hearing anymore, but he hurt everywhere. He had an idea of what had just happened, but it did not necessarily mean that it made sense to the boy. He had never troubled himself with how the adults shifted between different bodies. It had always been a natural thing, nothing he had ever needed to bother his little troubled mind about. Now he was drowning in this problem. The room was dark and the young fox that he had taken in was hiding under the bed, probably just as upset as its young master. The tension lay thick as a choking mist in the room he had been given when he had moved in with Dahlia’s puppy sitter. Conor was curled up into a strange ball of fur in the corner, still breathing hoarsely, sounding as if he was slowly choking.
Nothing in particular had triggered the premature shift, it had just happened out of the blue as the puppy had jumped around on top of the bed like the child he should be. Things had become much better lately. So much better. Then this had happened. What if Alexey came home and saw him like this. Would she be angry? Upset perhaps? The Soul boy desperately wanted to be granted some kind of explanation of what had just happened, but the house was empty and he was all alone. In a way he actually preferred this, because he felt for some reason shame. Ashamed for what had happened. Ashamed for being weak and scared. Everything. Guilt and depressive moods were still quick to arrive once it was given fuel, and today it hit him again with full power, crippling the young boy’s mind. The young boy stretched a fully shifted arm out and turned it with the palm up. A hand; it was called a hand.