Page 14 of Shifter's Homecoming

Apparently in the meadow, he could get rid of his beard at will, and apparently in the meadow, his clothes didn't just fall off him or rip or tear when he shifted they just... ceased to exist. Then, when he shifted back they just re-materialized. Or something. That was cool as hell and something that would be useful in the real world. Hell, any world for that matter.

He rubbed his eyes then looked around the forest like he'd never seen it before. Oaks towered overhead. The trail called to him.And the wolf guardian?Trent peered into the underbrush on either side of the trail, then looked deep into the darkness of the forest. Twilight was falling fast in the meadow, and it made the shadows into something only a wolf could love.

He scented deep and long and wide. No wolf other than him was present in these woods, guardian or otherwise. All he could scent was wolf territory and scent lines, small running mammals and lizards, insects, and flying predators, just like he was used to, just like he would smell in any Wisconsin or Illinois forest. He scented rich ground and loamy vegetation, and tree sap and light breezes. He scented the lay of the land outside of the forest, and he knew which way the meadow lay; inward, and which way the T-Rex door lay; outward.

Trent headed inward, toward the secrets of the meadow, stepping lightly on the trail, his wolf alert inside him. He made his way carefully and quietly down the path, looking all around, taking in everything in a way he had not been able to the last time he had been there, when he and his wolf had run together. His wolf looked out through his eyes. Trent felt close to his wolf, but completely unfamiliar with this sense of now being a man with a wolf inside.

Intellectually, he had believed Graeme thedragenwhen Graeme had told him if he had an echo, that meant he must be a traveler, too. Intellectually, he had tried to believe that there were actually other worlds than the one he knew so well. Intellectually, he had believed Smokey when Smokey had said to him,you are a traveler like the One True Mate Dahlia is a traveler.

But still he did not quite remember traveling itself. He did not remember going to sleep in his world and waking up in this other world. He did not remember ever being a man, or a boy with a wolf inside. Everything he was doing as a man, walking, talking, using his hands, it all felt natural to him, he did not have to learn to do any of it like he’d watched Troy have to do… But knowing how to do something wasn’t the same things as a memory of doing that thing, was it?

He had once told his brothers something though, a long time ago… they’d all been so young… just pups really—

“Smokey,” he shouted suddenly into the forest. “Are you here?” There was no answer. He tried inruhi, urgently shouting,Smokey!until the name echoed in his head. Still he got no answer. He shifted from man to wolf to man in frustration.

He slowed his pace on the trail, ignoring the sounds of the forest, thinking hard about why it was so easy to shift in the meadow. He wondered if he would be able to shift when he got home, to his world. He corrected himself.Ifhe got home to his world, and then he corrected himself again.Whenhe got home to his world. No ifs about it. There was no room for ifs. He was going home to his world. He would get the vaccine, and hewouldgo home.

And that meant learning to shift, somehow, someway, because he did not want to be a non-shifting shifter anymore. Maybe there was something to figure out in the meadow, maybe there was something for him to learn—

Trent shifted again from man to wolf, quick and sure, right there on the darkening forest path. It was easy. There was nothing to it. All he had to do was… Damn. He just couldn't put a finger on it.

The forest darkened further. Trent shifted from wolf to man, all at once, easily, seamlessly, trying to capture the moment of the shift, feel the tipping point of the transformation. Again, though, he missed it—however he caused it to happen beyond the decision was a mystery to him. He shifted again, and again, and again, trying to isolate what caused the shift, what created the shift, what shifted the shifter from man to animal, and animal to man.

Time passed. Maybe an hour, maybe two. Trent paced in a tight circle, just off the slim forest trail shifting from man to wolf, from wolf to man. He beat a circular path through the underbrush. Again. Again. Again. Again.

He thought he might have it. A certain tweaking in the mind, a certain tension in the wolf… Maybe. But he was exhausted.

He did it once more, exhausted or not, man to wolf, then wolf back to man.

He was done. He took a breath.

It was fully dark, and the meadow was now quiet.

As a man, he started down the trail again, ever inward. He walked for many moments before the path opened up into a pretty green meadow the size of two football fields.

Trent took a moment to let his eyes play over “the meadow inside the meadow.” The dark did not matter. Trent could see as well as in daylight.

Grass stretched out in front of him, inviting him to run, to come, to play, and rest. Trent did none of those things. He raised his nose and scented the place out.

Wolf territory was to his back, bear territory was to his left, and catamount territory,femalecatamount territory, he noted, was to the right.

And across? Directly across the meadow from the territory of the wolf, Trent could discern by scent a … a nothing. A void. A precipice.

He would explore… When had any livingwolvenever gotten a chance like this? Rarely. He winced at the word, “living,” not sure if he was really still “living” or not, but he could not help but act like he was. Trent strode in, his badge bouncing lightly against his chest, the gun heavy and awkward at his side. The gun had no place here, even he knew that.

In front of him, right out near the center of the field of green grass, was a structure like a room with no ceiling, built out of meadow, with walls overgrown with green ivy, like something out of Jumanji or The Jungle Book. He could not see inside. Trent eyed it for a long time, angling as he walked to get around to the other side. There, he saw an open door, and inside, vine-covered furniture, desks, and filing cabinet.

Trent circled the office, seeing and scenting no one inside it. He hooked a right past it and drew close to the territory of the catamount. He saw a wide path set almost in the center of the territory. Trent debated heading down it, not knowing if he would be welcome or not, but when he caught a familiar scent, he could not resist.

He entered the path at a jog, eager to figure out what he was scenting. He could scent the catamount guardian… and she had a companion. Trent thought of the mountain lion he’d seen with the silver clock in its mouth, and he moved a little faster. For a moment, he thought he scented Jaggar, but then he realized it was the beast he was scenting, and then he realized that was not exactly right either.

Trent shifted seamlessly into his wolf to run down the trail on four strong, fast legs. Eventually, he came to an opening in the trees. Trent slowed, then shifted into a man, leaving the path on two strong, booted feet.

Ahead, he saw another precipice like the ones that had been outside the entrance doors. There were two mountain lions lounging close by the edge, a male and a female. The female’s belly was swollen with young. Up close, Trent definitely thought he would label them catamounts in his own head, instead of mountain lions. The words essentially meant the same thing. A catamount was a mountain lion was a puma, was a cougar, but catamount was a phrase of honor, and these two, especially the female, were catamount, through and through.

Trent did not get close to the edge of the precipice. He did not have a fear of heights, or rather his wolf did not, but him, Trent the man? He had a healthy respect for heights. Still, he walked a little closer.

He cleared his throat, although he knew well that both animals had known he was there since he entered this path, probably since he entered the meadow. The female did not look at him, but the male did.

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