[private] pour my heart out on the floor and now it's leaking

[bolder]

The mantra of the Pack is one that Bolder has adopted proudly.

Perhaps it was because his father had never given him a choice that the young shapeshifter takes to one that was granted to him by Mazikeen. She had been his first teacher, taking him from the young colt who could barely control his coat colors to a young pegasus who could wear nearly any shape he wished. (Though his want to be more than that, to mimic more than just nature is still within him, placed there by his Uncle. Bolder wished to mimic Magic as well.)

Bolder remains perched on a mostly bare branch, its leaves torn perhaps from an early summer storm. It places him out in the open, but Bolder doesn't think a Great Horned Owl keeping watch in the early evening hours would prove unusual. His avian head turns one direction and then another, nearly rotating all the way around while his large eyes adjusted to the dark.

A mouse rustles the long meadow grasses below him. And if he remains still enough, Bolder thinks he can sense a vole burrowing deeper into the ground. His sense of hearing and smell and sight sharpens more with each shift; he spots the small bat-like creature quickly, and leans forward while his speckled wings start to open.

But the bat is not a bat, and if Bolder could have, he would have grinned in this shape.

"Malik," comes the deep, hoot-like voice of the owl into the humid evening air. Bolder takes off and lets himself soar until he comes leaping towards the ground. "I'm on my way back to Hyaline," he tells his cousin, before settling himself comfortably on a log and becoming something suited for the ground. A wolf that still smells of Ischia emerges from the shadows and Bolder tilts an ear to the sky, still listening for the chittering. "What are you doing here?" he asks in a low voice that sounds more like a growl. "You didn't lose Myrna again, did you?"



@Malik