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I tripped and landed on my rump. Okay, that explained why animals usually turn around instead of switching into reverse. Backing up on two legs is a lot easier than on four.
So what else was different? Everything I saw, for starters. The world came in shades of gray, like a high-quality black-and-white movie. My night vision seemed sharper, as did my hearing. The dark clearing where we'd fallen asleep looked twilit, and I could pick up the scuffle of a distant animal.
The most noticeable difference was the overwhelming number of smells. Musk and rot and a sharp, clean scent that I somehow recognized as water. I swallowed. Water.
I followed the scent until I found a stream, barely a trickle. I sat on my haunches and reached out a paw, ready to scoop some up to drink before realizing that really wasn't going to work.
I bent, stuck out my tongue, and licked the water. I knew I was supposed to lap, not lick, but that's not easy when you aren't accustomed to it. After slopping around and soaking my face, I managed to get a few mouthfuls.
When I had enough, I twisted to go and felt a weird ping on my cheek. It was like I'd brushed against something, but a more intense sensation. And my face was inches from the ferns bending over the stream. I tried again. Another ping, and I realized what it was. Whiskers. They were warning me I was close to hitting something. Like the backup sensors on my grandmother's car.
As I turned around, I felt another brushing sensation, this one not nearly as intense but even odder. My tail. It was off to the side and I couldn't really get a good look at it. So how could I move--?
My tail swung. Okay, that was easy. I took a closer look. It was thick and over half the length of my body. When I thought of moving it, it moved. Very convenient.
I crept forward, sniffing and listening and, occasionally, tasting. When I caught the faint smell of raw meat, my stomach rumbled. That part, I ignored. Definitely not something I cared to explore, and the mingled musk of a weasel or marten told me I'd be stealing dinner from someone else if I did.
The next scent on the breeze was also from a living being. And this one brought me to a skidding stop, paws outstretched. I lifted my head, nose twitching as I found the smell again, to be sure I wasn't mistaken.
Human.
Daniel and the others? My heart beat faster, tail swinging. Another sniff. No, these were scents I didn't recognize. Not consciously, at least. But as I stood there, nose raised to the wind, images flashed in my mind and told me I did know these people--I just hadn't realized I'd stored the scents.
Moreno. Antone. The woman. And the faint smell of a campfire.
As I sniffed the air, I started to seriously consider the possibility this was real. I'd dreamed of undressing. I must have done that, in my sleep, like I'd walked in my sleep two nights ago. As for the transformation, I'd seen Annie do it and it had seemed relatively painless. And why hadn't Kenjii woken? Because I'd moved away from her before I shape-shifted. She was too tired to hear me get up and I probably smelled the same as I always did. No cause for alarm.
This was real. I'd shape-shifted. I was a cougar. And Antone, Moreno, and the woman were close by.
Was Sam right, after all? Had they tagged Kenjii and were closing in? Time to check this out, while I still wore my handy disguise.
By the time I got to the camp, I knew they weren't tracking my dog. If they had been, they wouldn't be staying so far away. I'd traveled at least a couple of kilometers to find them.
When I finally made it, I found two canvas tents and a pickup. From the looks of the small fire, they'd only recently pitched camp for the night.
Moreno, Antone, and the woman sat around the blaze. Moreno and the woman were drinking beer. Antone had a bottle of water beside him, and was crouched by the fire, poking a stick in. I caught the smell of roasting sausage. He pulled it out and put it into bun, then set the stick aside.
; "Not going to make ours?" Moreno said.
"I'm sure you can manage."
"I burn everything. My people didn't cook over fire."
"All people cooked over fire at some point," Antone said.
"You know what I mean. Your family."
"My family lived in a suburb of Phoenix. I learned campfire cooking in Scouts, like most boys in America."
"Touchy, touchy," Moreno said. "I was just--"
"Being an ass?" the woman said.
Moreno muttered something, crushed his beer can, and threw it into the forest. The woman leaned over, took the stick, and started preparing a sausage. Antone walked into the forest, retrieved the can, and tossed it into the trash.
"Earth Mother be angry," Antone said as he came back to the fire. "Send big thundercloud."
