Chapter 14

The four of us set off yet again, like strange hikers. Philip was perking up, he was obviously enjoying his wolf morph.

--God, if only I'd had this morphing power in the army,-- he said. --We went on exercise in the Welsh mountains, once, and it took us hours to get anywhere. Now, I'm not even thinking about the hills!--

Philip is very unpredictable. Most of the time, he's sour and grumpy, and gives you filthy look if you mention the army. Now, however, he was chattering on about it as if there's had never been any problems.

Sam and I were both in our stag morphs, having never acquired a wolf. But the stags were fine for the mountain. They were so strong, and so sure footed, that we trekked up and down steep inclines as if they were a flat level road.

Two hours passed, according to Philip. We came to a stop and de- and remorphed, a quick break in between to have another drink of water from the river. Sam also spotted another helicopter, and we lay low for a bit. Philip assured us that it was probably just a military chopper - as there was a training area nearby - but Sam would never be too sure. Eventually, we set off again, but it wasn't long until we ran into our next problem.

--Couldn't we just walk round it?-- I asked.

The forest has stopped abruptly, and we were now standing at the edge of a very large, wide meadow. It was a beautiful sight, but there was no cover whatsoever, and what would make an even more beautiful for Controllers would be to see four animals trekking across like they were crossing the road.

--Or fly over?--

--We can't fly over, it would look suspicious to see four birds of different species flying over in the same direction,-- said Sam. --And we're not going round it, that would take ages. We'll have to cross it - very fast and very low to the ground, so that we don't get spotted.--

--What small morphs do we have that can sprint like that?-- asked Philip.

--Well, I have a greyhound morph…-- started Sam.

--That's great for you, what about the rest of us?-- snapped Philip.

Suddenly, movement to my deer eyes! --Guys, look! A hare!--

--What?-- said Philip.

--There's a hare, about thirty meters in front of us. That would be perfect to cross the meadow. Small, speedy, good camouflage.--

--Yeah, but that would mean catching the thing first, to acquire it,-- said Sam

--You could use your greyhound morph you just mentioned,-- I replied. --Ever been hare coursing?--

--What?-- asked Maggie. --Isn't that like hunting?--

--Kind of,-- I replied. --It's where greyhounds are trained to chase and catch hares. It's really exciting, and- --

But I was cut off.

Maggie was staring at me, her wolf baring its teeth.

--Hunting?-- she shrieked. --You go…hunting!--

--Yeah, but, look, it's not like- -- I protested.

--That's one of the cruellest things anyone can ever take part it!-- she shrieked. --You! My god! Out of all people! You kill innocent creatures in the name of entertainment! I thought you were worth more that that, Ferdie.--

I swallowed. I'd kind of been bought up with hunting, coursing and other similar sports. When I was about three, my father had taken me to watch my uncle and a big group of his chums from the local hunt go out on horseback. It was a spectacular sight, all the horses and the dogs and the men in their pink coats galloping over the moors, and I'd been hooked ever since, and had been really annoyed when the government had imposed the ban. I'd never once thought about it as anything but an exciting and traditional way to get rid of pests.

--Maggie, that's enough,-- said Sam. --I don't agree with hunting either, but now's not the time for a moral debate. And it's the best idea we've had so far.--

Maggie growled softly at me.

--So,-- continued Sam. --I'm going to morph my greyhound and grab the hare. I'll try not to kill it. I'll bring it back here and we'll acquire it. Then we'll let the hare go, and cross the meadow. Happy?--

--Aye…-- sulked Maggie.

--Yup,-- I said happily, but a twinge of guilt could be heard in my voice.