Fighter Two moved first. Must've been the younger of the two.

I used the momentum to my advantage, ducking the grab for me. Grabbed for the front of the cloak. Fingers wrapped around the clasp. I yanked, fabric practically coming away in my fingers with the force of my grip as I allowed motion to carry Fighter Two forward and into the room. I guided the fall, spinning so the body was practically flung against the wall. The TV burst into sparks as the body hit it. A smell hit the air of frying electronics.

I darted forward to dodge the stab of Fighter One. Turned it into a roll to dodge the grab that was coming for my braid. Got my feet under me. Reached out and grabbed Layla.

She did her best to flow with me as I yanked her forward, crossing her body between mine and the wall and moving to keep it that way. Hands on her arms now. Pushing her forwards as I slide sideways, dodging another attack I heard as the muscles in Fighter One's arm extend and weight pushed onto one leg. Pulled Layla down as I crouched. Freed up one leg in order to sweep Fighter One's legs.

Fighter One was smart. Backed away before I could reach, jumping onto the nearby bed. Fighter Two was working to regain footing, the acrid smell clinging to the cloak and giving me a direct understanding of where he was in the space of the room.

Closer to Layla than I wanted.

I pulled her close as I stood, bodies against each other. Sliding through the space between the fighters. I wrapped my arms around her middle and spun so that she was facing the door. Facing the Talker, who had simply stood there like an idiot.

Clearly, Talker wasn't as familiar with Onishiki either.

I crouched.

Fighter One let out a shout.

Both Fighters started moving. Arms out. Legs pushing them forward.

Layla curled her legs, knees and chin to her chest. Small as she possibly could get.

I pushed off the ground.

I propelled us forward.

Saw the eyes of Talker widen. Finally, understanding.

Talker moved at the last second as Layla and I rocketed out the door, the floor behind cracking under the weight of my push. We soared through the air and spun, my shoulder and back taking the brunt of an awkward, rolling landing, but I get my grip and Layla kept her form, allowing me to roll up to my feet.

I growled as the others regrouped, Fighter One giving clearer instructions to Fighter Two and Talker.

"Get ready," I told Layla, putting her down and reaching for my face.

My fingers found the scars in my skin.

"Time for a quick exit."

She nodded, nervously glancing at the others with a flick of a pointed ear.

I began to summon the correct magic with a hum. It thrummed through my body, allowing the scars to become the edges of the mask I wore. My fingers found them and I increased my humming as I began to pull. The mask pressed against my false skin began to come away, unraveling the illusion of my humanity.

**

My body shifted.

Bones cracked.

Muscles twisted.

Shifting has never been a painless process. Your body warps on command, and things must be…displaced in order to make room for the new forms.

All four legs on the ground.

Bipedal movement in exchange for more powerful haunches.

Finger dexterity exchanged for claws sharp and thick enough to dig into stone.

Camouflage in the human world exchanged for comfort, for the space and form I was born into. The one that marks me. The one that makes me.

I shook off the pain as quickly as I could, wobbly on the four legs for a mere second before I was able to regain my equilibrium. I reached down with my snout and clipped my teeth gently around the mask that allowed such a change, turning to the sound of Layla shifting in place. I grunted at her, feeling the change in pressure on the mask as she took it. The shuffle of her clothes as she tucked it away.

Heard the sound of the Fighters readying themselves as clearly as if the rain were non-existent, my tail slicing through the water as I stepped towards her. Layla climbed on my back and shuffled so that she was up against me, fists tangling through my fur in a desperate bid to hold on. She knew the speed I could reach and the pain of landing after a sharp turn.

I spun as the Fighters locked something into place. Metal clicked together as the Talker tried to yell out to Layla, calling out in her language. Then in mine.

We ignored both the pleas and the insults. I spun and marked out the path in my mind, claws digging into the concrete as I took off.

We lost them in seconds.

My feet pounded concrete, then cement, then stone. And then dirt. I dodged around trees, listening for the change in sound that came with obstacles in my path, jumping or dodging, doing my best not to dislodge her. Layla did her best to press down so that she could move with me, the motion growing more and more practiced with each desperate run we had to make.

City.

Forest.

Open plain.

The sounds changed as we ran, the smell of the rain decreasing until there was nothing. Nothing but the smell of the damp earth and grass, the sound of my paws pounding the earth under us. The feel of the wind rushing through my fur. The elation that came with running free and wild and in the clear. The air was crisp. Sharp. The sounds of animals skittering away at our approach cutting through the new night.

Times like these - regardless of the reason - made me both comforted and sad. I always enjoyed a good run, free of humanity and it's ills. This planet had beauty that many refused to acknowledge, much less learn how to see. And yet, the times I came across Earth's small wonders it only made me long for home.

Eventually I slowed our pace. We had long left our pursuers behind, and now it was time to double-back and confuse the path. Make turns in the wrong directions, swipe the grasses with my tail, cause trails to go out only to wind back on themselves. Anything to hide our true direction.

Layla remained on my back as I worked, stuck to me like glue until I was satisfied and took off once again, this time careful not to display the direction I went in as I carefully made my way towards the sound of running water. We would need time to rest and drink before moving on, and possibly gain the advantage of food. I had left what meager supplies we had back at the room, so we were out that particular gathering of sustenance.

No matter. I could always replace what we had. I'd stolen half of it anyway.

I found the source and finally came to a stop, shaking a little and huffing at Layla to let her know we'd arrived. She took a moment before peeling her head off my shoulders and looking around. Her heart was still pounding, her breathing nervous and short. I didn't blame her.

But I did need her to get off.

So I gave her a few more minutes to orient herself before sitting and giving a hard shake, a warning that I was about to catapult her if she didn't remove herself willingly. She took the message and managed to untangle her fingers, sliding to the ground with a thud.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around.

I grunted, turning to her and pointedly nosing through her clothes until she shoved my snout away and dug around. There was a moment of silence before she muttered, "oh, right."

I felt the cold as she pressed the mask against my fur, and I instantly began to hum the song that would return my camouflage.