AN: this starts when Ruby's grandmother was stirring something in the pot.

Dyral sniffed the air. He could smell smoke. He had started to go on his way but something about the smell stopped him. 'It's only smoke.' He muttered to himself, neverless, he turned and trotted back the way he had come until he reached the spot where the sent had first reached him. It was vaguely familiar with a hint of spice. (One good thing about being a wolf…great sense of smell) He could single out all of the ingredients though he couldn't identify them on the spot. It was probably the witch stirring up something strange again. If she decided to test it on something, he didn't want to be the one she caught. His mind drifted back to the girl he had met earlier, he wondered if she was actually the witch's granddaughter. Ruby-Rose she said her name was, that was a strange name. She had given a reason for it but he couldn't quite remember what it was. Curse this forsaken wolf shape, every day, she was forgetting more and more of his human mind as well as his memory of a human day.

Suddenly, excruciating pain struck his right arm. Arm? Looking down he saw to his disbelief that instead of a furry paw, a long flesh covered arm.

Within the next 5 minutes, he was almost completely human. (He was still a little hairy) his clothes were ripped beyond repair and his hair was tangled and hanging down his back. With relief, he noted that his dagger was still in his hilt and he had his boots, apparently the spell on him had been broken, but by who? All at once a shriek of rage erupted from the direction of the brick house.

Dyral spun – and winced as his neck popped – So perhaps the witch hadn't done the spell reversal. But if she didn't, then that meant that the girl in red must have broken it. But how could she break it? His head was all muddled from the spell. The wolf-now-man slowly got to his feet. He wobbled but didn't fall. Then, he tried to walk…

10 tries and 10 falls later he was walking (unsteadily, but moving) pretty well considering 7 minutes ago he had been walking on four legs and had a tail. He wobbled his way through the trees in the direction he thought the cottage was in. twice, he went the wrong way but found himself stuck in brambles. It was surprising how useful an excellent since of smell and hearing could be opposed to sight. He could see where he was going yet, he still ran into things. Out of utter silence it seemed he heard a bird chirping very close to him. A cottage was burning nearby. It seemed to be saying.

He frowned, was it talking to him? Just then, the scent of smoke hit his nostrils. Dyral stopped pondering and broke into a run; fighting his way through the bushes and brambles that seemed to leap in his way. At last the wolf-man reached the cottage. It was true, the cottage was burning, but if it was burning, where was the girl in red and the witch? He sniffed (he could still smell vaguely like a wolf) and caught the scent of another human. Inching closer to the inferno, he saw a bit of red cloth. Without thinking, Dyral plunged into the cottage. The heat was nearly unbearable, the fire must have caught from oil, but he was too preoccupied to notice. The girl in red, Ruby, was lying sprawled on the floor, he could see her chest moving meaning she was alive but she gave no response when he called her name. The witch was nowhere to be seen. There was no time to waste. Careful not to bump the sharp spindle that lay on the ground next to her, he lifted her up. She was as light as a feather and just as thin. Before he carried her out of the cottage, he saw by the fireplace half of a piece of parchment, ripped out of a book by the look of it. He bent awkwardly and set her down, slipped the half charred parchment in his pocket, lifted her up again, and fled the cottage just as the roof came down

Formerly chapters 4, 5, &6