"You sure you want to open that particular can of worms?" Gary asked with one eyebrow raised. He stretched his arms expansively, yawning.
"Dad, I think we're ready to start grilling. You wanna come take a look before Daisy gets the fire going?" shouted Brandon, hanging out of the open double doors.
"I'll be right there," Gary called back, then turned to face Garath again. "Duty calls."
"Get at it man, good talk. Thanks for taking the time," said Garath, saluting the furry faced Foreman from the couch.
Gary nodded, turned, and walked back to the building. Garath sat there on the couch, comfortably enjoying the morning breeze and soaking in the golden sunlight while trying not to worry too much about the fact that one child was inside of BOTH HQ telling another child to start a fire on purpose. The warmth and the beautiful silence on the plushy couch lulled the Necrologist into a deeply relaxed state and, only minutes after Gary had gone to check on the grill, Garath was happily recovering any sleep he may have missed out on that morning.
Chapter 27
The Murder of Dave
Garath woke up with a startled jump ninety-five blissful minutes later when Sharon dropped an unopened food ration onto his lap. Sharon laughed merrily at his surprise and Garath noticed, once again, how much she had changed. Not only in body as he had assumed at first, her demeanor may still be accusatory and her personality taciturn, but she looked genuinely alive and loving every second of it. Garath was glad that at least one truly joyful thing had come out of this new apocalyptic Earth, and that joyful thing took a seat next to him on the long plush couch. The Necrologist and the Naturist were joined shortly by Athios and Warrion to discuss the day's plan of attack. They were discussing the travel distance when one of Gary's nephews - the one who had been absent at that morning's noise making competition - distracted Garath mid-sentence.
"Well it's only about ten miles, as the crow flies..." he was saying when the boy walked past the (in progress) outdoor dining area with a crow perched on his shoulder. Garath's face went completely giddy. "You guys, I just got a wicked idea."
Garath called the young man over and congratulated him on acquiring his first animal companion. Brock was absolutely beaming in pride when he told them that he had named the crow on his shoulder Dave. When Garath explained to the boy that he wanted to see if Dave could help him unlock a new BeastScape form, Brock held his arm out toward the Necrologist and Dave hopped his way onto Brock's forearm.
"Here goes nothing," proclaimed Garath as he attempted to make the transformation.
Just like when he had made his first shift into cat form, a strange intensity filled the empty air between Garath and the crow as they locked eyes. Dave held Garath's gaze and the Necrologist felt the same odd sensation at the back of his mind that he had when staring into Tarzan's eyes in the bedroom of his apartment, a kind of click as the dots connected in his subconscious mind. A new prompt appeared in his mind's eye.
Congratulations Garath! You have unlocked a new BeastScape form - Crow.
Crow
+100% sense of smell
+100% sense of hearing
+250% visual perception
Size: Tiny (+150% to all damage received in this form)
Note: You have unlocked a BeastScape form that is synergistic with your chosen Class. Harbingers of death, a Necrologist in Crow form gains +15% damage to all Death magic spells.
"Learned it!" he announced proudly. ‘Next up, test it,’ he thought to himself.
With that, Garath pulled in his will and focused his mind to the prickling sensation that always started in the back of his neck when shifting forms. The image of a crow grew in his mind as the prickling spread from his neck to his back and then through his arms to his finger tips. A full body of shiny black feathers erupted from his skin at once and he could feel his arms elongate as his fingers gave way to feathers.
When the change was complete, Garath felt wrong somehow. Like he was playing a PC game with an N64 controller - very unlike his cat form, which he had shifted in and out of liberally since acquiring the ability. Like cat form though, the body of a crow came with the instinctual knowledge to control its functions - the basic ones at the very least, breathing and general movement. The knowledge to do something and actually doing it proved to be quite different as he stood there with his four claw-like toes on the asphalt below each scrawny black leg.
"Caw!" Dave cawed at Garath from Brock’s shoulder. Loosely translated, it still was just a caw.
"Totally," Brock agreed, laughing. The young boy and the crow on his arm looked at one another and Dave cawed again. They seemed to understand one another, even if nobody else could translate Dave's caws.
Garath spread his wings and felt the light breeze pushing against his feathers, providing just enough lift to encourage the Necrologist to attempt a flap. When he did, his legs pushed off the ground instinctively and he flapped again, and again with increasing speed until he managed to gain a foot or two in altitude. The feeling of the wind carrying his slight form was exhilarating and he wanted more. Though he had achieved lift, without the forward momentum of a running start, he was just fighting a losing battle with gravity. He landed gently back on the asphalt and prepared himself to really fly.
With his wings fanned wide, Garath ran and flapped hard until he was able to pull in his feet and take off into the air. He climbed in altitude as he flew west toward the salty tang of the
