The Fox, the Hound and the Virus

The Awakening

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Chapter Twenty-One

The Awakening

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Brown eyes opened sleepily to a now familiar bed in a familiar room. There was a warm form beside him, the scent undeniably canine. The fox prodded at it with a dark forepaw. The hound lifted its head sleepily. It sniffed at the orange fur. The fox showed sharp little teeth, its tail wagging playfully. It stood on the bed and stretched, fur fluffing out as it yawned.

Suddenly, as though all its energy had no-where else to go, the fox took off. It raced out of the bedroom with no consideration for the hound and galloped out the front door which had been left ajar. Once outside, the fox ran around the house in long bouncing strides. The two-legged figures watched him, their forms still and curious. They used to be frightening, alien, predatory even, but now they no longer bothered him. They watched him chase his own tail in the sunlight.

The hound was suddenly by the fox's side. They pelted around the outside of the house in a game of tag, the hound loping, the fox bouncing. They were only slowed by the intense heat of the summer sun. The canines came to a panting walk, the hound leading the way to a small stream. The water was fresh but slightly warm from the hot sun. The fox got his paws wet, eyes following a dragonfly.

The hound barked, its huge form waiting patiently. The fox wanted to play more but it was uncomfortably warm. The dry grass crackled a little under his footsteps as he followed the hound back to the house. It was odd but the fox was sure he could hear better than he ever had before. From the wind in the trees to the bubble of the creek, he was aware of sounds he wouldn't have usually noticed.

Once back inside, the hound gave itself a hard shake. The fox watched curiously as the huge dog stretched. Its joints popped, its fur receded and its bones shifted until what was left behind was a broad-shouldered human with the hound's eyes.

'Can you shift?'

Shift?

The fox tipped its head one side. He was a fox. What was there to shift? He kneaded at the floorboards with small paws.

'You are a shifter. This is only one of your forms.' The hound held up a large hand. The fox watched as dark fur covered the fingers and then retracted to tanned skin once more. The fox looked down at his own paws. He wiggled.

'You can do it. It's like remembering to run.' The fluffy tail wagged. He liked running. The hound watched him expectantly. For the longest time, it looked as though the fox would never shift. Bran tried not to worry. This was new for the little animal. How long had it taken Bran to remember how to shift? He couldn't remember.

Suddenly the fox stood up and shook its whole body, ears to tail. It stretched and kept stretching, its entire body elongating. It grew and grew, the ears retracting as did the snout and fluffy tail. The young man that the orange left animal had behind looked both confused and unsteady. The fox tried to stand but his new legs buckled. Bran caught him and guided him to the bed. Will didn't so much as sit and tumble over. He lay there, blinking owlishly up at the ceiling.

'Will...'

Warm brown eyes blinked. Will. Yes. That was... his name... That was his name. The thought came from so far away, like he was collecting his thoughts after a long, deep sleep. He still wasn't quite awake yet. Everything still felt so out of focus. He looked up at the man who leant over him with such a thoughtful gaze.

'Bran?' the fox asked.

The hound smiled. 'Yes, and you're Will.'

Bran shifted over, allowing the fox to sit up on wobbly arms. The boy's transformation had gone easier than his own, but Bran had transformed on his own. No company. No pack. Only blood and pain and seemingly endless time.