— ZORYN —
The bears are already shifting when we reach them.
Massive shapes ripple and expand, bones shifting, fur bursting through skin in practiced, seamless transitions. Roan grins at me right before he drops into his wild form, the familiar hulking brown mass that has knocked me over more times than I can count.
"Last one home is slow!" he calls—then his voice fractures into a rumbling huff as he lands on all fours.
I snort. "Idiot."
Ren stretches his wings carefully beside me, testing his left side. He winces almost imperceptibly, and I notice a slight hitch in the movement.
"You're not flying the whole way," I say flatly.
He looks askance at me, unimpressed, "I can manage."
"Managing is not healing," I click my tongue at him disapprovingly. "No means no."
His lips twitch faintly. "You're bossy."
"You love it," I cross my arms and grin. "Besides, I'm right, and you know it."
