Page 12 of Trash and Treasure
“Let’s go while we have the light, and then we can come back and be in for the evening,” Mico said. “Shift together?”
Jack nodded, glad that Mico seemed to be able to read him so well. He closed his eyes, focused on his other side, and pulled from an inner energy.
Shifting wasn’t instantaneous, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as horror movies and TV special effects made it out to be. With practice and regular transitions, it was uncomfortable but not painful. The secret, Jack knew, was not to rush. Forcing a shift too fast could be bad. He felt the change come over him, and when he opened his eyes, he was much closer to the ground, looking at a very handsome raccoon through his own splayed whiskers.
The raccoon play-pounced in his direction, head down and tail up, and then led the way toward the path. Jack trotted behind him, nose twitching at all the forest smells. Mico waited for him, and they walked down the trail together, aware of the enhanced senses of their shifter sides.
Jack was a little bigger than a regular possum but still smaller than Mico’s raccoon. A non-shifter raccoon could pose a threat to a possum, but Jack felt safe with Mico beside him. He took the opportunity to check out Mico’s fur-self—the dark mask and feet, gray fur, and full, ringed tail made a handsome package.
Speaking of packages.He had tried to be polite, back in the yard, but he’d gotten a good look at Mico naked and liked what he saw. Jack hoped they would become lovers tonight, and he looked forward to getting up close and personal with the attractive cock and heavy balls he’d had a sneak peek of before they left.
He looked you over too,his possum said, at the fore since they were shifted.Seemed to enjoy the view from the reaction.
As possums went, Jack had always thought his other half was attractive.Figures that I’m a cute twink with or without the fur.
The trail opened up to reveal part of Fox Lake. Late afternoon sun glimmered on the water, and a few ducks took flight. Jack bumped up against Mico to indicate his approval and couldn’t resist a quick slub, rubbing his face against Mico’s thick, rough fur. Mico looked a little surprised but didn’t pull away, and if raccoons could smile, Jack thought his boyfriend looked pleased.
Mine.
Despite what the movies portrayed, there wasn’t a universal animal language for general conversation. The basic yips, howls, hisses, and growls that signaled danger or defended territory were easy enough to decipher. Even without small talk, Jack felt his connection to Mico more strongly in this form, as if stripping away the complexities of humanity brought essentials into sharper focus.
Mates,he thought with a warm sense of satisfaction.
Mico had moved a few feet ahead of him, chasing a lightning bug. Jack watched with a surge of unexpected fondness at the raccoon’s playfulness, pretty sure Mico wasn’t trying all that hard to catch the firefly.
Jack barely had time to catch a whiff of something foul before he spotted the shadow bearing down on him with distressing speed. He shrilled a warning as he realized the danger.
Coyote.
Possums didn’t move fast. Jack flattened himself, trying to present a difficult target, and braced for the attack.
The predator’s stench filled the air. Jack saw black lips pull back to reveal sharp teeth, felt the stare of yellow eyes, and heard the snick of teeth as they just missed his throat.
The coyote swatted Jack hard enough to send him tumbling, claws raking across his side in blinding pain, sending a gush of warm blood through his fur. Jack thought he saw a very human Mico intercept the attacker, tackling him an instant before the coyote’s jaws would have crushed Jack’s neck and rolling off into the tall grass, struggling against each other.
Jack didn’t know what happened next because his possum took full control, protecting them the only way it knew how. His body froze, refusing to respond, and he fell over, unable to move. Sight faded, and his breathing slowed.Mico,he thought, as everything faded to black.
5
Mico
The stinkof the coyote alerted Mico even before he heard movement, and he turned in horror to see the predator heading straight for Jack. Mico didn’t think; he reacted. Between one breath and the next, his fur vanished, and one-hundred-eighty pounds of naked human lunged to intercept the coyote.
He collided with the animal and kept the coyote’s sharp teeth from sinking into Jack’s throat. One of the coyote’s hind feet snapped out, claws tearing into the possum’s side, sending the smaller animal tumbling. Mico caught a glimpse of crimson staining the fluffy gray fur before he and the coyote went rolling, wrestling for dominance.
Mico’s human body had the advantage of weight and length. The coyote was wiry and strong, a fury of teeth and claws. Mico had no desire to kill the animal with his bare hands, but he didn’t want to be bitten, and he had no idea how badly hurt Jack was. So he went with his instincts and punched the coyote right in the snout, then screamed next to its ear.
Bewildered and bleeding, the coyote stumbled backward. Mico rose on unsteady legs and windmilled his arms, shouting and screeching to drive the coyote away, staggering in its direction until the predator turned tail and ran.
Shifting wasn’t supposed to happen in the blink of an eye. When it did, there was hell to pay, so “forced transition” was reserved for life-or-death situations. Mico already felt the effects—a headache that would only get worse, nausea that wouldn’t stop until he had brought up everything in his stomach, and later chills, fever, and aching joints.
None of that mattered. He had to get to Jack.
Mico stumbled across the distance to where the bloodied possum lay in the grass. He dropped to his knees and gently shook the tiny body. “Jack! Jack, wake up. C’mon, Jack,” he begged. “We’re safe. The coyote’s gone. You can wake up now. Jack?”
His hand came away crimson from the deep gash along the possum’s ribs. “Jack?” he urged, voice choked with emotion. “Please, Jack. Wake up.”
The possum didn’t move, and Mico realized with sinking heart that he couldn’t see the rise and fall of Jack’s chest. His eyes were shut, and the tip of his pink tongue lolled from the slack mouth.
