Shama

Noise in the kitchen woke him later that morning. He shifted and groaned. This is why he never slept on the couch. Probably why Zamponia needed a walk at two in the morning despite her injury. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Zamponia?" he called.

She stepped to the kitchen doorway. Her silvery-white hair was no longer peppered with brown strands and large black circles shaded the skin around her blue eyes. "Do you finaully hauve aun aunswer for Us, Caupdauin?" she asked.

He approached her and raised a hand to set it against her cheek.

She took a step back so she avoided his touch, her eyes narrowed and her posture turned defensive. "Whaud aure you doin'?"

"Sorry. The skin around your eyes is black."

"So?"

"…Did you get into a fight last night?"

Zamponia shook her head. "We need your aunswer, Caupdauin."

"You have my answer."

She shook her head again. "We hauve your aunswer from severaul years au'o. Is dad aunswer sdill drue now?"

Micah hesitated.

She stepped back into the kitchen to flip over the French Toast that was cooking on the stove. "Why do you hesidaude? How is Our auskin' now auny differend dhaun id waus auh few yeaurs au'o?"

"I wasn't Captain a few years ago."

"You're aufrauid."

"Maybe. A little. Because I don't know if I would be able to do what I need to do while helping you after being Overshadowed."

"We Overshaudow, Caupdauin. We do not dauke over."

"Says The Spirit who won't let Her host speak for herself."

"I caunnod mauke her speak do you when she doesn'd wish do auny more dhaun We caun force de Overshaudowin' on auh devodee who isn'd commidded."

"And Lavender?"

Zamponia turned to him. "Whaud auboud her?"

"Will I still get to see her if I don't accept the Overshadowing?"

"No."

"No?"

"Aure you deauf now, doo?!"

"No."

She nodded then turned her attention back to the French Toast.

A nudge came from The Spirits that felt urgent, and angry, and dark. An urgency to confront the dark threat. And anger because of what the darkness would do if it wasn't stopped.

"Undersdand, Caupdauin, dhad dhe price of your devodion is insi'nificaund do dhe cosd of your refusaul," Zamponia said as she handed him a plate of French Toast and the bottle of syrup.

He took them.

She slid passed him and limped down the hall. He carried the plate of food and the syrup across the front room. Zamponia was shifting cans around in the pantry.

"Are you not eating?" he called down to her.

"Aude before you woke up," she called back.

Micah took his food to the table to eat. Had he been viewing the Overshadowing wrong? Would he still be able to do the work he needed to do as Captain and help The Spirits fulfill their mission? He rested his forehead against the back of his hand. His fork dangling above his half eaten breakfast. There were still a lot of unknowns. So much that didn't make sense. Would likely not make sense until he'd given The Spirits the 'go ahead'. He felt the urgently angry and dark nudge again when Zamponia stepped into the front room with several cans in hand.

"What is there to lose?" he asked softly.

"Everydhin'. Or nodhin'," Zamponia replied.

The feel of the darkness increased dramatically then vanished with Zamponia's words.

Micah nodded.

A large Gray Wolf appeared in his mind, taking him away from the breakfast table and his unfinished food. He stood tall, tail and head held high.

"Shama?" Micah asked.

The Spirit Wolf gave a slight nod of his head then growled.

Micah knelt and bowed his head. "My apologies for not understanding Your guidance. And misunderstanding what it meant to be Overshadowed."

Shama's growl deepened.

"I appreciate and accept the op…." Micah felt his eyes roll up into the back of his head as darkness overcame him.

When his awareness returned, Micah's head pounded. He started to raise an arm to hold his head then stopped. His whole body hurt and felt strange. He peeled his eyes open to try and figure out where he was. Bright sunlight came in through the window above his head. He moaned and closed his eyes again. Why did he feel so weird? Had he gone drinking with The boys after Lavender's trial? Had her escape, death, and resurrection all been a dream? Had he only imagined talking to the Gray Spirit Wolf to ask forgiveness and reveal his readiness for the Overshadowing?

Micah rolled over. His abdomen cramped. Cramped hard enough that he wasn't sure which end he was going to vomit from first. He pushed himself onto hands and knees before he started to feel feces fill his shorts. He stumbled out of bed and staggered for the bathroom. The feces continued to eek out and run down his leg. He tried to stand straighter; clench his butt enough to stymie the flow until he reached the bathroom. But both proved to be impossible. Micah made it into the bathroom as more feces poured from his bowels and breakfast splattered all over the floor. His eyes rolled up into his head and he started to fall.

He was only somewhat aware of something other than the floor catching him as his mind focused on a bleary gray mass. He felt it shift in his core. Felt it twist and push outward from his core into the rest of his body. He could smell his feces and vomit. Feel as wave after wave left his body with each push and stretch of the gray mass. No. Not a gray mass. Shama. The Gray Spirit Wolf. Micah curled tightly, bringing his limbs closer so Shama didn't have to try and stretch so far to get their limbs to connect. He gagged and choked as Shama started to push his head into his.

Micah felt his body roll. A motion from outside himself that allowed him to catch his breath as Shama's head moved out of his throat. His eyes burned. His ears felt warm and his mouth and nose felt swollen. Shama shifted in his core again. More feces burned his legs as another explosion left his body. He moaned/whimpered. His legs and arms twitched as Shama pushed his legs out further and further until paws met up with hands and feet. He felt Shama's tail push through the confines of his body, despite not feeling anything additional in his pants. He felt an arm support his neck before gently laying his throbbing head against a cold, hard, surface.

The cramping in his midsection lightened. He heard water running. His bladder relaxed. His mind hovered somewhere between awake and asleep as small, delicate, but strong hands worked gently to remove his clothes. Then the sound of running water reached his ears. The sound softened and warm rain showered his filth covered form. The hands then brought soap within reach and massaged his scalp. He tipped his head back. Could feel Shama beating his tail happily against the floor of the tub. The soap smelled refreshing. The massage felt relaxing. Micah lay still until the sound of the water changed then stopped.

He rolled to get up. His body snapping and popping as he got up on forearms and knees. He curled. He stretched his arms forward. He stretched and curled his fingers. Each pop and snap loosening his body—easing the feel of Shama's Spirit inside him. Micah planted his hands on the floor and rolled forward to stretch his back and legs. He groaned. He curled his toes and smiled with the ten sporadic crunches that reached his ears. He rolled his neck, rolled his shoulders then flexed his hips until each gave a satisfying pop. He drew in a slow, deep, breath then let it out.

Micah opened his eyes. He shifted to climb out of the bathtub. His limbs felt awkward and weak. He managed to climb out of the bathtub before he collapsed on the recently cleaned, warm, bathroom floor. He closed his eyes. His mind seemed to drift into a dream. His abdomen cramped. He curled. His joints snapped and popped as his body became Shama's. He shook off, easing the feel of their union some more. Micah—in Shama's body—left the bathroom. He smelled everything. His own musk. Hints of Zamponia around the couch and in the pantry down the hall. He could smell the musk of three other males. Males that were familiar. Family.

Noise in the kitchen made him turn. Zamponia's scent grew stronger as he neared the kitchen. Another scent accompanied it. That of Zamponia's Human companion. He stepped closer, sticking his nose between her legs. She turned and knelt in front of him. Her hands stroked his head and cheeks. He sniffed her silvery-white hair, her cheek, and her ear. He licked the latter, getting her to curl and chuckle.

"Dhad dickles, Shaumauh."

He pushed his head into her abdomen. He felt her muscles clench then relax again without taking on her own wolf form. Micah pushed again without a response. He whined.

"None of daud, Shaumauh. I know whaud you smell aund you know you need do wauid."

He lay on the floor, his head resting on Zamponia's legs.

Zamponia stroked and petted Shama's thick fur.

He closed his eyes. Zamponia's Human companion smelled familiar. But no matter how much he racked his brain, he could not place where he had smelled her before. Zamponia fondled his ears then lifted his head to kiss it. She stood and opened the can of jerky she had taken from Lavender's apartment. He held out several sticks to him. He didn't take them, his sorrow still feeling as raw as it had in the park, despite kind of understanding that Lavender was alive… somewhere.

"You need do ead somedhin' do help you recover from your joinin'," she told him.

Micah slowly took the jerky and left the kitchen. He lay on the couch. He felt a mental shift before he made short work of the jerky. He curled up on the couch, feeling his body change, snap, and pop back into his Human form. He lay in a stupor until Zamponia tucked a blanket around his bare waist. His brow furrowed, not feeling ashamed or embarrassed in the slightest. Zamponia pulled her fingers through his hair. She tugged on it then pulled her fingers through his hair a few more times.

The doorbell rang. It rang several times followed by the sound of three different knocks on the door. Micah groaned and pulled the throw pillow over his head to block out the sound. His neighbors were going to hate him for that, but he wasn't sure he wanted to see his friends right now.