My orange eyes remain vigilante, straining to see in the dark cloak of the forest.  Had I been in the presence of a spirit this entire time?  

Soon my question is answered as a form morphs before me.  It is not that of the wolf, or the jungle cat, but of an equine that I had seen in a quick shift earlier.  The dark being is hard to see in the shadows of the night, but my predator eyes pick up enough of the outline to know it is indeed Malik in horse form.  My head tilts in curiosity as he laughs lightly of his predicament.

I have never shifted into my other form, having been born a wolf, I have forever remained a wolf.  Never seeing a need to be anything other than I was.  The way Malik shifts though makes me feel as though it isn't as fluent for him as others I have witnessed.  Nevertheless, I smile and nod.  "Very well then," I was accustomed to being a lone hunter so it wouldn't affect my ability to survive.

My attention shifts as a single call echoes within the confines of the thick woods.  A call I know all too well as it is a song sung in my native tongue.  My ears perk forwards, my tail being erect and still.  I listen for more calls and soon they come.  A chorus of howls fill the air, of hunting pitches as the feral wolves begin to locate one another and form a hunting party.  With flattening ears I look to Malik, "Run!"  My tone is thick with warning as I remain focused in one direction, the direction in which they were coming from...