08-10-2016, 07:35 PM
Backtracking to the paw-prints, he had been toying with the idea of revealing himself as a horse to her. She has asked if he was more than coyote, and he had to think for a good long moment because he had spent more time as a coyote that he had almost forgotten how to be a horse. Even thought that maybe he couldn’t change back, though he does from time to time just to see if it still works. He believes that one day he’ll just be stuck in one form, unable to change back and if so, he hopes he is stuck as a coyote because he knows their ways better than he does a horse’s. So he pressed his paws into the dirt, thinking a hoofprint might appear instead. That was, until she answers him and changes her color again. She became the most beautiful green he had ever seen, even if it mimicked the leaves above. He was completely in awe of her ability to draw any color into her skin, that seemed way more awesome than his ability to change into a coyote. Except, he thought it might be far more interesting to be both a coyote-shifter and a color-changer - can you imagine an emerald green coyote grinning up at you? He also thinks she looks rather fetching in green, and in her not quite normal appaloosa and salmon-pink coloring. The ends of her mane and tail look like they’ve been dipped in a bowl of belly-scales from salmon caught and slaughtered, even some of her spots are that hue and it fascinates him. But he’s gone ‘round the tree and changed his shape, and that’s where the story picks back up - with her asking if he’s alright.
He is, of course, but it hurts damnably much considering that the entire construction of his being is altered and not slowly. Thank gods, not slowly! Of course, it probably shouldn’t hurt either but let’s be a tad bit realistic - it’s going to. Her concern is touching though, as he replies around a grin that is most certainly more coyote than horse, “I am, thanks. It always hurts a little when doing that.” He frowns momentarily, unwilling to lie about the pain associated with being a shifter. Maybe it wasn’t like that for all of them, he couldn’t say since he’s never met another shifter - just immortals since his family was overrun with them, discounting the levitating half-sister he had but that just freaked him out for some reason.
Woodrow meets her fascinated stare and laughs, “Yeah I suppose so, I just don’t. I tend to stick to being a coyote for longer than is necessary I guess.” Really, he wants to say that he just doesn’t have much purpose in sticking to his original shape as a horse. His family was used to talking to a coyote, so it never bothered them that they saw him as anything but a coyote. She’s actually the first (besides a rabbit-shifter he met as a pup-foal-pup-thing) that’s managed to get him to think about and then be a horse again. And to be honest, she smells way better in this form - even looks cuter too.
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