Frost 60th
Rocky slopes in winding mountains along the Northwestern Daravin wilds were dotted with pine trees carpeting the land as Nuraku flew between the rolling valleys beside the mountain trails, her black feathers outstretched to catch the updrafts and help her more easily coax. By now, it was beginning to feel natural, flying, but even so she knew the slightest mistake or bit of panic would upset the careful balance--flying wasn’t quite so easy.
Nuraku had contemplated making her way southeast towards the coastline to perhaps seek out a shark or a fish to explore the depths beneath the ocean waves, but decided against that course of action for the time being. There was still much to explore here in these lands so close to the border, not far from the famed Daravin institution of Nardothis, or was it Sardothis? Nuraku had difficulty remember how things were called sometimes, especially those things with foreign or complex names.
Where two mountains met with jagged cliff faces, Nuraku flew at a great distance above the tree-line, peering down at what she could beneath the afternoon sun. By a brook she spotted a congregation of common wolves trotting along, a larger female staying behind to pant beneath some shade--they looked tired. Perhaps nearby there was a den, or this was their territory?
Nuraku couldn’t pass up the opportunity to view these creatures from a distance, enthralled by their black fur. After all, she had black fur much like theirs not too long ago, and the only furred creatures she now possessed had fur not quite like her own. The fur of a wolf might be similar?
The thought of maybe integrating a series of animals together into a bipedal amalgam of parts did cross her mind. Perhaps she would return to Tyrclaid and acquire a Rakura to that end? For now, however, a wolf wolf wold make do.
Beating her wings to slow her descent, she clasped her talons around a branch far up above the stony brook, watching the wolves below her. One of them glanced up at her, so she gave a “CAW!” to act convincing. It looked nonplussed.
Locking gaze with the animal, she tapped into her magic and began to read the animal, gathering its being up in her mind and imagining what it would be like to be the creature. One of the females grooming its young offered her much in the way of detail, from that long fluffy tail that shook behind its hindquarters, to the broad tongue it was now using to groom those young pups. It seemed so unusual for there to be pups this early in Frost--weren’t most animals supposed to spawn in the next season?
Still, Nuraku watched, keeping still as the wolves paid her no heed, focusing on that particular female, the largest among them. The ears it had were much like her own from when she was a Rakura, so she understood how they swiveled and moved. Even the maw was similar, though hers wasn’t so pointy--the Ermine had similar details however, and lately she had spent much of her time in that form.
Altogether the wolf had many familiarities about it. To her, it was a middle-of-the-road template, excelling at little, but having much variety as any human might; the powerful nose and sense of hearing would be the most useful tools to this creature.
As the template settled, Nuraku wove together all of those thoughts to fully immerse herself in the idea of what the wolf was, eventually leaning off the branch and flying off to go Mold the new form she had just acquired.
Being sure to get plenty of distance from the wolves, she found a secluded place that was rather defensible atop some rough rocks, and began her transformation. Bone and muscle popped here or there, and soon she stretched forward upon canine paws, pushing over stones in the throes of contorted nerves moving her body about in a monstrous fashion.
Canine ears sprouted from her head, face contorting into a muzzle as her beak disappeared, everything growing bigger, stronger... more lupine. Before long, she stood upon shaky legs, stumbling down the rocky slope towards easier ground. Walking upon four legs was different for legs which were taller--the Ermine had a very high-prince sort-of trot much like a deer, but this regular gait took some getting used to.
Several minutes went by as Nuraku grew used to her form, the sense of smell growing, treating her mind to the delight of countless aromas that her mind automatically sorted into carious categories of natural importance. Her tall ears flagged, swiveling like little cones to pick up on the cacophony of countless birds for miles, each chirping and squawking, their cries dimming to the back of her mind as she listened for other things instead.
”Aaaauuuwooooooooooo!”
Nuraku froze, an urge welling up from the depths of her throat. As if by reflex, she tilted up her nose, breath poised to answer. “Aughw-” Nuraku thrust her head to the side, stopping herself. That’s... strange. The urge to answer is so strong. Do Animus Molds offer a sort of instinctual compulsion?
Rarely having ever met the animals she held the form of beyond observation, Nuraku felt the temptation. Vesta had never told her not to interact, and she was curious how they would see her, or if any kind of communication could happen between them.
Trotting up along the riverside, Nuraku spotted the group up ahead--or rather, they knew she was coming for awhile now. Dozens of meters away, they stood, the biggest among them standing tall and stamping, making herself look big--she was the one Nuraku had copied, the matron of this group.
Already, Nuraku felt weary. The group did not recognize her, and though she had copied one of their own, they did not trust her scent--the mage could tell that scent was a large part of their communication, as well as body language. Venturing a gamble, Nuraku lowered herself, laying down upon her belly and staring ahead at the troupe of wild wolves staring right back at her.
Slowly, a brave, smaller male approached, breaking off from the group. Even he stood his ground ten meters away, chuffing. “Rrghr,” it growled, but Nuraku just stared back in curiosity, wondering how far this would go. She shut her eyes, hoping to make herself seem more submissive so that the group would lose its aggression, but they still seemed so weary.
Eventually the group began to surround her, and Nuraku grew nervous, eyes opening and darting to view the creatures. In Tyrclaid, some Rathor enjoyed kinship with their bond race--Nuraku had never known such treatment from the Rakura of her home. But perhaps ...maybe.
A wet nose puffed against her cheek, another at her tail as the wolves surrounded her, curious. The den mother kept her distance as even the pups grew curious, inspecting the strange lookalike the group had found. Nuraku began to lift her head when she felt they did not fear her--
“Rrrgharghk!” A sharp pain lanced through the shapeshifter’s neck, and Nuraku’s mouth opened, contorting in pain as a yipe escaped her lungs, echoing across the rocky crags. A moment later, something bit her haunch, and the wolves descended on her like a pack of monsters.
This was a mistake!
Nuraku contemplated using her magic to scare off the beasts, but after they sank their jaws into her, they stopped biting and paced around her, uttering more growls as she laid there, feeling her wound seeping.
Fuck. This was stupid.
A whining whimper wept up from her lungs, and she hoped the noise would deter them. The wolves seemed satisfied for the moment, even the den mother coming over to sniff over her--they found her curious now. She wasn’t a threat--to them, she was weak.
As their noses tickled, she rolled over to show them her belly. There was a growl from another male in surprise, but even he seemed to find Nuraku’s act of submission acceptable.
That... mongrel... tore me open... The pain burned against her back, and she knew she’d need to clean that wound or it would get infected. Such a pain, being two days as the crow flies from town, with no thumbs.
In time the wolves stopped paying attention to her, and they allowed her to roll back over. Experimentally, she stood, tucking her tail and keeping her stance low--a wolf looked right at her as she started walking away from the group, but it didn’t bother even growling. The minds of beasts are so strange, Nuraku remarked to herself quietly.
Once she was far enough away from the wolves up-river, she looked over her shoulder in concern at the trail of blood following her. “I’ll need to fly,” she muttered with a sigh.
But will I make it?
Can I fly for that long before my wounds begin to wear me thin?
There was no way she could even clean the wound properly without thumbs. Her ears wilted, and she began to shift with a somber thought--this was going to be a tough flight.
She’d seen a village to the southeast, likely some Vier estate. That would be her first stop. Unfurling her wings, she flapped fervently to get up into the air, the ache biting back as she ascended into the sky and caught the wind, favoring the air currents even more than usual--every beat of her wings sent spikes of pain shooting up through her mind.
Fuck.
