The Lost Girl, part thirteen

"Hey, Wolf?" Morri called out as she approached. It was the most tentative that Chris had heard her sound so far, which wasn't very. "We good?"

He nodded. "We're fine," he said. He'd left the bruise on the inderside of his chin, after making sure that his jaw was intact and his teeth were all still in place. That one was too public; it was safer to let it heal at its normal rate. He'd healed everything else, though.

Morri leaned down, inspecting his face from below. "Damn," she said. "You really do heal fast. Do all wolves...?" 

Chris shook his head. "I seem to be tougher than most." 

"Well, I'm not going to argue with that," Morri told him. She studied him for a moment, her expression speculative. "Thanks for sparring with me -- I needed that. Glad I didn't do you any real injury."

"I'm going to be spending most of today as a wolf, I think," Chris told her. "Antoinette's still pretty angry with me, and the less I say the less likely I am to get myself into more trouble."

Morri glanced over to where Antoinette was breaking down her tent with quick, efficient movements. "I think you're going exactly the wrong way on that," she told him. 

Chris shrugged. "We'll see."

Morri shrugged back at him and then strolled away. Chris looked at his own small pack, then shifted down and forward until he wore a full wolf's body. It was a small magic, taking a bit of clothing and equipment with him through the change; easy to do out here. He circled the camp once, tasting the air and checking for scents; the forest was rich with them. 

He circled back to where Antoinette was pulling her pack on. She looked down at him and sighed. "You know what? Fine. Be like that. We can talk about this after we get the girl back -- but we will talk about it."