The Bare Truth part 2

Chapter 1

It felt like electricity was crackling along her skin.

Sierra shivered involuntarily. The shudder started at the base of her spine, spread across her chest and shot down her arms and legs right to the very tips of her fingers and toes. Her teeth chattered as if she were cold and inexplicably she thought of standing in the snow Christmas morning at six-years-old, clutching a mug of cocoa with the wind blowing against her pink cheeks, feeling colder than she ever had before, but also full of excitement and wonder.

But all at once the feeling turned from cold to burning hot. The heat seared through her. It wasn't in her skin, but in her bones, as if she were burning up from within.

For one brief moment, she thought that she might die.

But then Joe squeezed her hand. She looked up into his dark brown eyes. What she saw there was calm and reassuring. Without saying a word, those eyes told her that everything was going to be okay. She was safe, and she was loved, and Joe was going to be right there with her.

It was the last rational thought she had for several seconds.

That was the moment her bones began to change shape. Like hot metal hammered into shape by a blacksmith, her skeleton melted and reformed. The bones grew wider and longer. Joints changed shape. Her jaw molded and convulsed outwards.

Cinnamon brown fur dotted with white flecks was sprouting through her skin. It tickled gently as it pushed its way out. Sierra felt her teeth and nails lengthening and hardening. She watched in fascination as her nails changed to black, her red nail polish flecking off as they changed shape but not disappearing completely.

She fell to her hands and knees on the forest floor. But she realized with a start that they weren't hands or knees anymore. Her knees were not what hit the ground. Those were several inches higher. It was her paws that were planted on the ground. The large brown pads felt almost like shoes, cushioning her from the rough, pine needle strewn ground. Sierra flexed her toes and felt her claws curl into the dirt, the sharp points carving in with ease.

Clumsily, she tried to turn her body and fell with an earth shaking thump. She was reminded of her first job, working at Chick-fil-A at sixteen, and having to wear that oversized cow costume. It had felt top heavy and awkward, not knowing where the limits of her "body" started and ended. Sierra wondered how long it would be before she stopped running into things.

"You'll get it," Joe's voice resounded in her head.

Certainly he was trying to be reassuring, but instead Sierra jumped at the intruding voice, falling over again.

"You can hear me?" she thought at him.

"Just in bear form, yes. It's how we communicate."

Sierra, furious at not being warned, frantically tried to think of anything she didn't want him to know, then cursed herself for that train of thought and instead tried not to think of those things. She settled on focusing intently on the tree in front of her, and tried valiantly not to let anything else push its way in.

In her head, Joe was laughing at her.

"I can teach you to guard your thoughts," he told her. "You'll get that with practice too. And then I won't know about that night with your college roommate after all that tequila if you don't want me to."

Sierra was going to kill him. She reached for a sound like a sigh or a grumble to express that frustration and instead found herself letting out a roar that echoed off the trees. Startled, she forgot how mad she was for a moment and instead marveled at what she had become.

She could smell everything, from the sharp pine scent of the trees to the musky scent Joe was giving off. Even the lake in front of her had a smell. It was kind of like the smell of falling rain, but stronger, more distinct.

She took a few tentative steps forward, conscientious of the weight each step carried. A few more steps, and then impulsively she broke into a run. She was moving faster and with more reckless abandon then she ever had in her life. It felt like flying. Tree branches whipped her as she ran past, but with her thick fur protecting her they felt no more painful than running through clothes hanging on a line.

Sierra stumbled over her new limbs, fell, then climbed up again. She tried standing up, rearing up eight feet in the air, and brought her claws down on a nearby tree. She ripped into it, the bark giving way like tissue paper. The assault on the tree startled the owls nesting inside, sending them scattering into the air with disgruntled screeches.

The owls. The owls smelled so good. She could smell their hot blood and their tiny beating hearts and was disturbed to find herself longing to sink her teeth into one.

"It alright," Joe projected to her, and this time she felt reassured by his presence instead of unnerved by it. "You're not a monster. You're just hungry. But you're never going to catch an owl. Let's start with something easy."