The wild game Bayne brings in from his hunts supplements what we’re using from the arlacks. We feel a sense of accomplishment that we’re both an important part of our group. Although he prides himself on his hunting ability, he’s been invaluable tending the arlacks as well. It turns out WarDog is an amazing herder. His size intimidates the big animals and with me being able to mind link and communicate exactly what I need him to do we can move the growing herd quickly and efficiently. WarDog loves being able to contribute, and I enjoy watching him run to his heart’s content.
I’d initially worried about group dynamics, but natural leaders have stepped forward, and our community is progressing nicely, although not without squabbles and pitfalls. A few people seem to be pairing off, and there are a few who can barely stand to be in the same room as each other. I guess that’s to be expected in a group as large and diverse as ours.
The secret offworld trips that Naomi arranges have definitely piqued my interest. They return with scads of money, but I’m told information about them is on a need-to-know basis. They’ve also informed me I’m not on the need-to-know list. Those in the inner circle reassure me we’re safe, so I guess I can handle being in the dark, even though my curiosity threatens to kill me.
It was a great idea to stay on Fairea, Love. I tell Bayne. As much as I liked our friends on the vessels, I never would have been this happy on the ship. Digging in the dirt, helping birth ugly arlack babies, and watching my mate get to run on all-fours.
I’m happier to have a bow in my hand and my feet on the land, he admits.
And my paws, WarDog chimes in.
Since we’ve seen no arthropods and the forest is safe, Bayne will be shifting any minute. We have a routine. When he runs off on four legs, I stand with my back against a tree, my laser in my hand, and I watch him until his tail disappears as he lopes away.
The tiniest pang of sadness pierces me because I know what’s coming soon. I quit trying to hide my envy weeks ago, because when your mate can read your mind, keeping secrets is nigh unto impossible.
Although at first I wasn’t sure I wanted to be able to shift, now I long for it. We both gave up hoping about a month after our mating ceremony. We seldom mention it anymore, which probably isn’t healthy, but talking about it makes us both sad.
Bayne even offered not to shift because he knows it makes me hunger for something I’ll never have, but what kind of person would I be if I asked for such a thing?
So I try to take joy in watching WarDog’s enthusiastic play, and his unmuted happiness when he returns from a hard run.
I won’t be long, Love, Bayne says. Perhaps he sensed that my melancholy is sharper today than usual.
Take your time. I love to watch you having fun. At least that’s true.
He removes his clothes and folds them neatly in a pile at my feet, then swiftly shifts. WarDog laps at my hand, turns, and runs toward the sunny hillock about half a mile away.
My heart clenches in a potent combination of adoration and yearning. I love my two guys so deeply. I thank God every day that I found this depth of love.
Why did Bayne ever tell me I might be able to shift? Perhaps if he hadn’t dangled it in front of me I wouldn't want it so desperately. But, I scold myself, he didn’t dangle it to tease me. He was making certain I had informed consent before we mated.
I love you, I call in my mind, knowing they’re about to leave telepathic range. Good. I don’t want them hearing even a whisper of my morose longings.
I imagine what it would be like to run free like WarDog. What it would feel like to have four paws to press into the soft soil, or to smell every scent in the forest, or to run so fast my hair would whip in the breeze.
Then I feel an odd sensation deep in my belly, or is it my chest? It’s warm and tight and swirly. My brain fogs over and I feel weak in the knees. The disorientation lasts a moment, and I shake my head trying to dispatch my confusion.
Am I shifting?
Yes. I hear the voice clear as a bell in my head. It’s both foreign and familiar at the same time.
You’re my inner canine? I hold my breath, hardly daring to believe.
Joy surges through me as I release a breath which becomes a squeal of excitement. How do I do this?
Easy, she says, just let me out.
Easy? Really? I shrug my shoulders and as I drop them, I relax and picture a door opening in my mind.
Yes. We’re connected. You have me now. We’ll always be together.
The door opens and she steps through.
I have just enough time to yank my tunic over my head before the shift slams into me in earnest.
When Bayne first told me about it, I had worried it would hurt. It should hurt when you consider the cataclysmic changes and strain it puts on the body.
My bones are morphing in size and shape, my internal organs are rearranging, and . . . holy shit, my teeth are elongating! But I just watch the changes. They aren't painful!
When it’s supposed to happen, it doesn’t hurt, my canine lovingly informs me.
She’s beautiful. Her fur is a warm caramel, and her tail and mane are a mix of caramel and the same color brown as my hair. Her luminous eyes are the same brown as mine. When
