Shalim settled when Dean was ten. Early, by most standards, but not really unexpected; he'd grown up quickly, after all. But the circumstances surrounding it made Dean resentful, for a while. He didn't tell anyone that his daemon had stopped changing for almost three weeks.
Shalim was rare in that she didn't settle into the form of a pure breed. Mostly, daemons settled as a pedigree animal, though often with a size or colour variant; Shalim was a combination of several different breeds, which was probably why Dean had gotten away with concealing that she'd settled for as long as he did. Curious children's daemons often combined forms while they were experimenting. Depending on what bit of her you looked at, Shalim was a little like an Alsatian, or a Doberman, maybe a Labrador, a Schnauzer or a Malinois. Viewed from a distance, she was sort of like a Great Dane, but more solid. The bottom line was that Shalim was a canine and she was huge— her back was only a few inches off being level with Dean's shoulder when she settled and was equal to his waist when he'd finished growing.
They didn't speak to each other for a few days after she first settled, not properly, because they both knew precisely why she'd taken that form; Dean wasn't sure how he felt about it. It was because Shalim had always taken the form of a large dog when Dad and Caisid where on a hunt without them, and Dean and Sam were alone in a motel room somewhere with no idea of when he'd be back. Never a combination of dogs, sure, but one of the big breeds, one of the guard dog breeds, or a herder; a fierce and capable protector. The form of his soul was a reflection of his role as Sam's brother, apparently a defining characteristic of who he was. It wasn't fair. He'd give everything for Sam, he would always do anything for his little brother, but did that have to mean that that was all he was? 'Everything and anything for Sam'?
Shalim didn't share his resentment, or his restlessness. For a moment, when she realised she'd settled, Shalim deflated, shrunk in on herself, which looked very strange in her new form.
"I'm a mongrel," she said, staring at herself in a motel-room mirror, with Dean watching her in the glass, and Sam and Ammon asleep in the single bed behind them both.
"Shalim…"
"No, this is good, this is great," she was brightening, puffing herself out to inspect her final body. She barred her impressive, wickedly sharp teeth in a test of a snarl, then the expression softened into a grin. "I was worried I'd be a bird, or a mouse or something, that I'd let you three down."
And that was it, as far as she was concerned. She understood why Dean was upset, of course she did, but she didn't see why he should be. This was what they wanted; to look after Sam and Ammon. In any case, hunter's daemons were almost always dogs; Caisid was one and so was Iva, Bobby's daemon. This was a good thing.
Ammon figured it out before Dean and Shalim told her, and before Caisid or Dad did. Sam and Dean were sitting on Dean's bed, Dean methodically checking through all the weaponry Dad had left behind, and Sam next to him, watching intently. Shalim was on Sam's bed, curled up on herself, with Ammon in the form of a burnt-red coloured rabbit on her back. Dean was halfway through talking the six year old through how to clean out a double barreled shotgun, when Ammon spoke up.
"You've settled now, haven't you?"
Dean froze, and Shalim rolled over, displacing the smaller daemon. "Yep," she replied, eyeing Ammon carefully.
Ammon nodded, looking back at her like she was trying to memorise precisely what the other daemon looked like. "You're very big," she said after a few moments.
Making a soft snuffling noise that Dean was beginning to recognise as his daemon's new laugh, Shalim shot out a paw and knocked the rabbit off the bed.
"Always going to be bigger than you," Shalim said cheerfully.
"I'll grow up and be bigger," Sam protested, practically falling over himself as he scrambled off the bed to find his daemon.
"Not a chance," Dean said firmly. "You'll be a baby for-" he broke off as Sam retrieved Ammon, dragging her up into his arms. The daemon had changed out of her rabbit form. She now looked exactly like a much, much smaller version of Shalim.
"I can't get that big," Ammon said, sounding disappointed, looking at Dean's daemon enviously.
"But we'll get bigger," Sam insisted, holding his daemon tightly. "You're very pretty, Shalim," he added shyly, after a seconds consideration.
His beautiful mongrel daemon preened, and Dean didn't pretend even to himself that the love and awe in Sam and Ammon's eyes didn't make him feel better.