CHANGING AS REGULARLY as I had meant I’d increased the speed at which I could perform it, but not without a price. Arms rigid, muscles taut, sweat left my flesh glistening as I remained in my crouch and attempted to regulate my breaths. By the time I’d even a modicum of composure, steps crunched toward me from the east, and Gabe rounded a n***d silver birch into my clearing.
As I reached for my clothes, he padded across to me, jeans slung low and undone, shirt hanging from his shoulder.
Eyes still bright from his change, he held out his hand. “Come on, old man.”
“Show some respect, pup.” I climbed to my feet and stared at the blueness of his irises, the colour in his cheeks, and the grin, noting that only a hint of perspiration tinged his scent. “You’re looking good.” Sounded good, too.
