Welp. More Valkyrien for your edimification. And would you believe, no warnings at all, well bar one for brief use of Language...
Intellectual Property of me, Jared G. Juckiewicz. Copyright held by the same...
Wakefulness returns. My nose is the first part of me to waken. Such smells as one finds in a motel. Young wolf. Elder Kitsune. Then sight. A bog standard design. A Motel Six, or one of their competitors. A double room. Lydia has a bed to herself. Vixen and I share one. Neither of them are awake yet, and Vixen is lying on the far side of the bed from me. Close enough to lend comfort, far enough to not hinder my healing or cause me discomfort. I slip out of bed and to my feet. And, wonder of wonders, I feel no aches or pains. Six days I've been travelling, and another four or five since I took my wounds, and finally, I appear to be healed. We are still a full days drive from where we plan on spending our leave. But that'll happen tomorrow. Digging deep, I find the spark of the Wolf. And change. For the first time in almost a fortnight I can take my other forms. True, the shifting is longer, and less comfortable than usual, but in the end, I stand there, a large, dark grey wolf. Well. As my license says, a Suomi Bearhound. Pedigree. By the name of Paskiainen. Which means "SON OF A BITCH!" in Suomi. And of course, now I have to earn that title. So. Back over to the bed. Vixen's side this time. Lick my nose, making sure that it is nice and cold and wet. Nudge it under the covers. And proceed to stick in somewhere where cold, wet noses should never go. And cue shriek. And a bellow of "SON OF A BITCH!" as she bolts upright. And then looks down, and pushes my snout away from her midriff. I drag myself onto the bed and rest my head on her lap. She glares for a minute, and then relents. "So. All better now?" she asks, scratching between my ears. I lift my head and nod, and then settle it back down. "Good" She laughs, as she rolls me off the bed. Of course all this racket has Lydia awake. She vanishes off to the Bathroom to get herself dressed, and Vixen changes in the main room. As soon as Lydia is dressed she is sent out to the truck to fetch my collar and lead, whilst Vixen readies them breakfast. When Lydia returns, Vixen fills my bowl with beef broth, and I lap it up whilst they have their breakfast. Of course, then I have that damned pink collar tied round my neck. I knew having someone else accesorize for me was a mistake. And to it gets attached a lead. And we set out for a walk. The town we are in is in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, so there are plenty of trails. We wander alongst a creek for a time. I amuse myself pouncing at squirrels. No rabbits here, such a shame. We get Lydia used to the place, and then return to the Motel for lunch. Afterwards, we decide tis time to go to the park, and play for a bit. Vixen shifts to, leaving Lydia to wander with a bright red-orange, fox-looking dog, and a big gray wolf-like one. Good thing her english has improved a lot. And Vixen and I are no slouches when it comes to defending ourselves, or others, in our beastforms. So. To the park. And thence, to Frisbee. Chasing after the spinning disc is shockingly fun. Especially when you have the opportunity to do such things as vault six or seven feet in the air to catch it. Almost like hunting Pheasant or Grouse. And of course, one can't just let the other catch it. So if they get to it first, you need to knock them out of the air, with a flying tackle perhaps. Or wait till they have it and then wrestle it out of their fangs. And then after that, Tig. Better with more than three participants, but still fun even so. We'd chase the squirrels here, and even the occasional marmot that shows its head, but the signs say we're not allowed to. So we settle for chasing each other all over the field, whilst Lydia sits and watches and laughs. See, she knows us as vicious, bloodthirsty mercenaries. This is the first time she's really seen us playing. We need to do it more often...
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