Shifting

a story of rojhana

I stand, my tail flicking nervously at the backs of my legs. The world before me. Waiting for me. I should not leave home, but I must. My blood calls. I can feel the spirit moving within me, guiding me forward. I am so scared. Terror pulses through me, and I can smell my own fear. But I know, deep within my heart, this is what I must do.
The change comes to me with only the slightest effort. Thick fingers become paws, hooves become claws, and a muzzle full of dull, herbivore teeth become wicked fangs. It extends from me, overlaps me, grows from me from every poor and hair. This is what I am, wild and free.
Druid of the claw, master of the bear spirit. The road flies beneath the thick pads of my paws. Shaggy coat, snarling grin, horns which no spirit form can hide - with a roar of passion, I set out. The world is mine.