We walked side by side along a narrow path that twisted through tall pines and thick underbrush.
Sunlight flickered between the branches above us, creating shifting patches of gold along the trail. Mason glanced around, curiosity bright in his eyes.
“You come out here a lot?” he asked.
“When I need the quiet,” I told him.
Eventually the trees opened into a small clearing beside a shallow creek.
“This is it,” I said.
Mason looked around slowly. “Nice.”
“Ready?” I asked him.
His smile answered the question. A moment later bones shifted and reshaped. The familiar rush of transformation moved through me, muscles tightening as fur burst along my skin.
When it finished, I shook out my thick gray coat. Across the clearing, Mason’s coyote form stretched and yawned.
Smaller than my wolf, he was lean and quick. His ears perked toward me.
For a moment we just watched each other. Then Mason darted forward suddenly and bumped his shoulder against mine before sprinting toward the trees.
It was a clear invitation. My wolf surged forward instantly. Challenge accepted. I launched after him.
We raced through the woods like shadows, weaving between trees and leaping fallen logs. Mason was fast, quick on his feet, darting left and right with playful unpredictability.
I caught up long enough to tag him lightly with my nose. He yipped in mock offence and bolted again. The sound that escaped my throat might have been a laugh.
Time blurred. Eventually we slowed near the creek, both of us panting slightly.
Mason flopped onto the grass, tongue lolling happily. I dropped beside him, chest rising and falling as the cool air washed over us.
For a while we just lay there. My wolf stretched lazily inside me.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this carefree. I watched him roll onto his back, paws kicking slightly in the air like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I wanted more of this, more mornings, more runs through the woods, and more quiet moments learning who Mason really was.
* * *
The run left my muscles pleasantly loose and my lungs burning in the best way.
By the time we made our way back through the trees toward the cabin, the morning sun had climbed higher, warming the forest floor and burning off the lingering chill in the air.
Mason walked beside me, barefoot, his hair still a little wild from the shift.
He looked happy, relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen before. Every few seconds he glanced at me like he was still riding the high of the run, a quiet grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“That,” he said finally, stretching his arms over his head, “was exactly what I needed.”
I snorted. “You’re the one who turned it into a full sprint.”
“You chased me,” he said.
“You started it.”
He bumped my shoulder lightly. “You enjoyed it.”
