Breach has only truly practiced her gift with her family—mostly, with her mother’s tigress form, but also with her brother and father’s fluid ability. It is something new entirely to do it opposite from Mazikeen and she feels a thrill at it along with an entirely natural rush of adrenaline. She has no idea what the other girl is capable of—both in her gift and her extent for cruelty—and she finds that she likes the danger of it.
Would they actually fight, she wonders.
Would she be able to hide her delight in it.
Her mother’s penchant for violence rolls under her skin like a shiver of joy and she suppresses it by snapping her coyote jaws at the air as the large bird circles above her. She stands up her hind legs and bats her front paw out, swiping at the air. Frustrated by her lack of reach, she reaches inside of her to find another animal. In a burst of creativity, she shifts into a great horned owl, taking to the skies after.
The wingspan in this form is larger than she’s used to, spreading a full five feet, and she feels the rush of air as she takes off after the vulture. She trills loudly, the sound coming naturally, and is about to dive when she feels the exhaustion beginning to fray around the edges. She cries out as she tucks into her wings and begins to circle back to the ground. The dive causes her to somersault down into the dust, rolling first as a bird and then as the filly. When she comes to a stop, she rests, breathing heavily.
She lifts her pale head up, streaked with dust, fatigue and embarrassment fighting her exhilaration.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever done this many shifts in a row.”
I want to swim until we both begin to feel the weightlessness sink in