Steel Wolf

She could hear a rat as it scuttled along the wall on the deck below her. The captain's cat, Mister Shinders, was trailing it a few feet away. She smelled Privates Agrim Thunderhand and Ekko Siari as they stood watch outside her door; it was Ekko's menstrual time. She could smell the sea, even though she was in a locked room, deep inside the ship. Her eyes, by now adjusted to the dark, a dim light coming under the door, could see every detail of the room as if it was illuminated by sunlight. The fur on her forelegs was the same cornsilk blonde color she was used to seeing in the mirror. She wagged her tail.

She called to the Guards outside. It was a guttural growl. She knew what she was saying, but obviously, they couldn't understand her.

Padding silently to the heavy steel the door, she sniffed it. She raised a paw to scratch at it. She stood on her hind legs, placing her front feet against the door. To her surprise, there was no pain or burning sensation. She dropped to all fours. She sniffed the door again. Tentatively, she placed her nose, the most sensitive spot on her wolven form, against the door. Nothing. She should have felt a burning. Only the cold of the steel greeted her.

Iron was the main component of steel. It should have hurt, at least a little bit.

Nothing.

She padded to the center of the room.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated on what her human self looked like. Nothing happened. She shook her shaggy head, lowering herself, flattening her ears, her tail in alignment with the deck. Her lips curled into a snarl, baring her fangs.

A long intense growl issued from her throat. A low lingering growl. It filled the room, echoing from the walls.

She closed her eyes again, shaking her entire body in order to relax. She took a deep breath.

The wood which separated her from the steel deck plates beneath seemed to grow more pronounced as her fingers began to lengthen. Perched on her toes, she felt her feet shorten, coming more and more into contact with the wood.

Totally naked, she stood upright, unsteady at first on her smaller feet, quickly regaining her balance as her feet finished shifting. She stretched herself to her full height, arms raised into the air as she attempted to touch the ceiling several feet above her head.

Moving to the door, she knocked on it.

"Yes, Commander?" asked Agrim through the closed steel door. Her squad was ordered not to open until sun up.

"How long until first light?" Her voice was gravel, undercut with the smokiness of her unshifted tone.

"First light is two hours away, ma'am," came the reply. "Moonset is approximately one hour away.

"Don't open this door until the sun is one hour above the horizon."

"One hour above the horizon," he confirmed. "Aye, ma'am. You're sounding a bit rugged. Do you need more water?"

"Yes, please."

A small hose slid under the door. She retrieved her canteen, placed the end of the hose in it, and gave the command to pour. Once the canteen was full, the hose was retracted.

She picked her shirt off the deck, using it to wipe the perspiration from her nude body. She drained the canteen in one long pull.

Tossing the shirt and canteen into the corner with the rest of the clothes, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the room, staring at her hand in concentration.

Her fingers began to shorten.