Breathe in, breathe out.

The air smelled of fallen leaves, of black churned earth and of humid tree trunks.

It was early November, and when I had come out to the wood this morning, the ground had been laced with the year's first frost. Now, it was nearly midday; it had thawed, everything was cool and soft, the ground slick with yesterday's rain.

I stood on a flat rock, flexing my toes in the moss that covered it. It tickled the underside of my feet, making the corners of my mouth stretch into a wide smile. I loved the autumn. I loved these woods. I loved the way the sun warmed my bare body as I stood there, in the middle of the trees, while the cool breeze dried the sweat from my morning run. It had been a particularly intense one; I'd had been curious to know how fast my second body could go. I assumed I was at least halfway to Seattle, and I'd set out from my parent's country house in northern B.C.

This meant I was fast. Faster than Dad ever was. My smile widened.

With one last deep breath, I turned and sprinted, letting the shudders come over me as I pumped my human legs at full speed (which, by the way, was still pretty damn fast), before feeling my body expand mid-stride, my muscles twisting and reforming, my bones stretching as I phased. This first time it had happened, almost a year ago in my parent's backyard, I remember thinking it was weird and it tickled, and also that it was fucking terrifying. A bit like becoming the terrible Hulk, only with less green and more fur. I pushed my longer, thicker legs into an even faster pace, testing the boundaries of my speed as I made for home. My claws ripped at the ground as I flew over it, the trees blurring into one another. I would make it in time for lunch, for sure.

When I got to the edge of my parent's land, I looked around for the gnarled branch where I'd thrown my bathrobe. I hadn't bothered with getting dressed that morning, knowing I'd be going out after breakfast. Instead, I'd wrapped myself in a tattered robe before going downstairs. My mom, for whom a semblance of normalcy was still important, hated when I did this. Never mind that her husband and, as she had discovered recently, their eldest daughter, could transform into 900-pound mountain lions. Flicking my tail, I shrunk back into my smaller body before tugging the robe off its branch and slipping into it.

I crossed the now-empty field barefoot, swearing whenever a sharp rock or cut cornstalk bit at my skin. Stupid friggin cornstalks. I made a mental note to bring shoes or slippers or something next time.

As I neared the house, I could smell quiche wafting out from the open kitchen window. My stomach growled reproachfully at me in response. I hadn't eaten much that morning, eager to head out. Well, I was paying for it now.

The screen door of the back porch squeaked loudly as I pulled it open.

"I'm back!"

"Hey kiddo," Dad poked his head out around the corner of the cabinet he was going through. "I made some quiche for lunch, know you love 'em."

A wide grin spread on my face as I spotted said quiche on the counter. Bless him, he'd made three.

"Thanks Dad, they smell great."

I headed for the cutlery drawer, intending to set the table for the two of them; I was, however, interrupted by my mother's arrival.

"We're home!" She called from the front door, before dropping something and swearing. "A little help, maybe? Lucy! Get over here and help your mother with the groceries!"

I rolled her eyes dramatically at my father, who chuckled and got back to rummaging through the cupboard.

I stalked out of the kitchen, stopping when I reached the entrance. There, my mom was struggling to pull her feet out of a pair of too-small rain boots (probably borrowed from Eve), balancing on one foot with a hand on the wall and the other holding three or four grocery bags. The others were scattered around her haphazardly, with our overweight Rottweiler, Mattie, sniffing at them enthusiastically. I shook my head, sighed, and went over to help her.

"Hey Mom, " I said, swooping down to give her a peck on the cheek as she took the bags from her left hand, allowing her to use it to pull off the offending boot.

"Thank you, sweetie. God, these boots are the worst." She replied, tucking an unruly curl behind her ear with a huff. Sadly, this allowed her to see what her daughter was wearing. Namely, my ratty old bathrobe. She stood up, hands on her hips and either side of her heavily pregnant stomach.

"Lucy, what in the world are you still doing in nothing but that damn robe at nearly one in the afternoon? Have you even showered since yesterday? I swear to God, you're doing this on purpose, just to irk me. Go get cleaned up, get dressed—" I said nothing but a mumbled 'Sure Mom' and turned to go up the stairs "—and don't you come back down with a t-shirt and sweat-pants. Get some actual clothes, please, we're going out later. Don't complain, you need some new sneakers since you ruined the other ones last week." Sadly, this was true; I'd litteraly exploded out them after a fight with my sister, so now they were in the trash outside, reduced to the state of shreds. This annoyed me. I prided myself on having such good control over my phasing. Plus, those sneakers were my comfiest favorite pair of shoes.

"Oh, and Lucy? Ask your sister to get out of her room and help me out with these goddam bags before Mattie eats them."

After having pounded on Eve's door and having sing-songed to her that she'd better go down before our mother came up, I headed straight to the bathroom, peeling off my admittedly filthy robe before opening the water faucet. As I waited for the water to be just warm enough, I examined herself in the mirror. I'd been doing that a lot in the last seven months, ever since my first ? You would, too. My features had changed minutely since then; my eyes seemed more almond-shaped, the green of them slowly turning to a light gold color; alot like my Dad's. The light dusting of freckles I used to have (and love) had faded somewhat, and the teeth behind her thin lips had pointed. Mostly my canines, really, which were pointy to begin with, but if you looked closely enough you'd notice they were longer than they were supposed to be. Creepy, if you ask me. My curly hair had straitened to some extent, and the dirty blonde color of it had ashened considerably; it was very nearly the same shade as my lion self's fur. I'd had grown, both in height and in bulk; I'd been tall enough for a girl I guess, but now I was an outright giant. I didn't know any other girls who reached six foot two at the ripe old age of seventeen. And where I'd been lanky and clumsy before, I was all lean muscle and feline grace now.

I'd never thought of myself as pretty before, but I guess that was what I'd become when I took on some of the more feline traits resulting from my 'condition". Thank god I didn't shift into a horse or a cow or something like that.

I snorted at the thought, and, deciding the lukewarm temperature would suffice, stepped into the bathtub.

I sighed contentedly when the spray hit me; I really had needed a shower. I watched the grime wash off me as it swirled toward the drain in brownish-gray ribbons. Yuck. I reached for the bottle of shampoo, and squeezed out more than I actually needed; I loved frothy bubbles. I only used the hypo-allergenic and odorless soaps and cosmetics now; anything but that irritated my nose. That was something I missed; I used to love girly scented body washes and soaps. Now they just burned my throat and made me sneeze. I frowned and rinsed the lather out.

There were many things I'd had to give up. School. Friends. I was home-schooled now; besides, this was my last year in high school. Once I graduated, was good enough with my temper to be able to control my wilder impulses, I could go to college; somewhere no one would recognize me. I'd told my friends (all three of them) I'd transferred to a school in Colorado, and my family had taken up residence on the farm permanently, leaving Victoria and its overly populated streets behind. Here, I had the space needed for a horse-sized cougar to be comfortable in, and the privacy to phase. Good thing I had Eve, or I wouldn't be able to talk to anyone about anything that didn't have to do with phasing or with the latest variety of organic Nepalese turnips or some other crap health food my mother was growing. God. My sister was surprisingly mature for her age, and, despite her sometimes brooding nature, we had become very close. Besides, Mattie wasn't very talkative company. He also kind of smelled.

Having successfully removed the incrusted dirt from my feet, I turned the water off and reached for a towel. I wrapped it around my head, wrapped another, larger one around myself, grabbed ratty-robe in one hand and opened the door with the other. Once in my room, I went through my top drawer for some panties, slipped them on and decided not to bother with a bra; I've never had much to brag about anyways. Then, I tried opening my closet. The doorknob, however, remained stuck. This happened all the time. The farmhouse was old, and the foundations had moved around quite a bit; so, the doorjambs did'nt always fit the doors. I wiggled it a bit, pulled at it, and finally lost patience with the stupid thing and rammed it with my shoulder.

The massive oak door splintered right from the point of impact through to the other side with a crunching noise.

"Awww, fuck!" My mother was going to have a fit. It's not like I used my freakish strength on purpose; I just kept on forgetting about it. Well, at least the door swung open now. I picked out some old boyfriend jeans, a black camisole and a plaid shirt. I stuffed my feet into my knock-off Uggs (as ridiculously comfy as they are unappealing to the eye), seeing as I had no shoes, and flung my towels into the laundry basket before heading downstairs. I was gathering my damp hair into a bun when I entered the kitchen.

"Honestly Rob, it's like the more in your face something is, the less likely you are to find it. Use your damn kitty senses or something." Mom had apparently found whatever it was that my father had been looking for in the cupboard. He responded with a dazzling smile. "I don't mind the sight of you up there on that chair looking for the oregano, though." He grinned, leering at his wife's backside. He reached out to steady said wife as she descended from the chair, since her belly kept her from seeing her own two feet.

"Ew, Dad. No." grimaced Eve, her head popping up from behind the refrigerator door where she was putting the groceries away. She spotted me and beamed. "Hey, Catwoman. Went out running this morning?"

I narrowed my eyes at the nickname.

"Guess so. I made it halfway to Seattle by ten-ish."

Dad's head snapped up at this. I crossed my arms and cocked my head, ready to gloat and deny I was lying.

"Lucy, I don't want you near Seattle. I don't even want you near the border for that matter. I've heard some rumors from a couple of Shifters down there." His word tumbled out of him quickly and sharply, leaving no room for objection. He knew how much I loved southern part of the Olympic peninsula; he didn't look too sure I'd listen to him.

I lifted a brow at this. He avoided my gaze and dug into his quiche.

I understood he didn't want to talk about it in front of the two other girls, and settled with looking disgruntled at being left out of the loop. I sat down at the table, reached over to the middle of it and helped myself to half of one of the quiches. Eve, having put all the food away, sat down opposite of me with a glass of apple juice, clearly amused .

"You know, if you keep eating that much, eventually you're gonna get huge." She commented, smirking.

I shot her a glare.

"Eve, my other body weighs nearly a thousand pounds. I am huge." I countered.

"Whatever."

The brat got up and downed her glass, before setting it on the counter and announcing she was going to finish her homework.

Once Eve was out of earshot, Mom threw her arms up and declared, "I swear that girl spends her whole life studying, sleeping or skulking. And you!" she continued, pointing an accusatory finger in my direction, "You run around the woods naked, and cost me a fortune to feed. What happened to my sweet girls?"

"Puberty," Said Dad, while I snorted.

Dad glanced at me, his expression serious. He was worried about me, I knew. He always was nowadays. I decided this was as good a time as any to try and talk to him about the other Shifters and, not being one to beat around the bush, started:

"So Dad, about those Shifters-"

"Ramona, I forgot to feed the chickens this morning." Said Dad, sending a pointed look at his wife. She got the hint, and replied, somewhat tersely, "Be right on it! I'll be back in half an hour though, so don't think you're getting out of shopping this time, young miss."

She grabbed her gardening gloves from the hook ext to the porch door, slid her feet into her worn-out Birks and stepped outside.

He looked at her retreating form for a moment before turning back to me.

"What do you want to know?"

"Well," I started, "Tell me about these Shifters further south. How come you never mentioned them?"

"Never needed to. Besides, I didn't know if you'd want to know; you've got way more on your mind than you should already."

"Would you have told me eventually?"

"Probably. After having made you promise to respect their privacy; you know how secretive our kind is."

I nodded at this. We ourselves were an example of that.

"Okay. Then what about the rumors? What's so bad that we can't deal with it?"

"I'm not sure, Luce. Apparently there have been a lot of hikers going missing in Washington lately, maybe from bear attacks. I didn't get any specifics, just a heads up. But we've been in contact with these Shifters since before my grandfather was born; if they say something's up, then I say we trust them."

"Dad. Really, it can't be that big a deal; what kind of a bear could get to a Shifter? There's no such thing."

"Well, let's hope not."