Page 13 of The Claiming of the Shrew
“We’ve cleaned up most of the damage, it’s not too bad, but there aren’t a lot of vandals to choose from around here. It was either someone on the crew, or someone from the hotel who was sneaking around in the middle of the night. And for the record, Iknowyou weren’t in your room for at least part of the night.”
“And how exactly do you know that?”
“Because,” Leah said, “I saw that your window was partly open, and I saw something dark crawl over the windowsill and go down the wall.”
Fawkes closed his eyes briefly. Of course she had.
His eyes snapped open when she said, “Are you a gelatinous blob shifter?”
“A—what?”
“You know. From D&D? Dungeons & Dragons?” She frowned at him. “Do you even know what that is?”
“I know what D&D is. I saw the movie.”
“Okay, we are having D&D night as soon as everyone’s not completely consumed with the play.”
“Doesn’t it take—materials?” Fawkes asked, not quite wanting to reveal his ignorance of just what exactly playing Dungeons & Dragons entailed.
“You’re in luck. The whole Menagerie is hooked on it. There are bound to be books and dice floating around—and you’re trying to distract me from the real question!”
“You’re doing a good job of distracting yourself,” Fawkes pointed out. “What was the real question?”
“What’s your shift form?”
“Oh. I thought you were asking where I went last night.”
“Well that too, but I’d like to know where you went as awhat.”
“Raccoon,” Fawkes said. “I’m a raccoon.”
Leah’s eyes went round. “You’re atrash panda?”
“Hey!”
Inwardly, his raccoon preened, because of course it did.Yes, our mate is lovely and also correct, we ARE.
You just like the word trash.
That too.
Leah squinted at him. Every shifter could recognize the look of another shifter zoning out in communion with their inner animal, at least for those who heard it as an actual voice and not merely a collection of sometimes very pointed instincts. “Does your raccoon talk to you?”
“Sometimes. Usually to my regret. Does your—uh—what is your animal, anyway?”
“Shrew,” Leah said. “And no, it doesn’t. At least not in words. Mostly I just get a sort ofEEEEEEEEE.”
“Is that a good ‘EEE’ or a bad ‘EEE’?”
“Depends on what I’m doing. Wait! You’re distracting me again.”
“I think we established that you’re doing it without any help from me.”
Leah was leaning on one crutch with her other hand in her pocket; now she took it out and pointed a finger at him. “Where did you go and what did you get into with your little raccoon hands? I’m going to guess you weren’t going through the trash.”
Sadly, his raccoon sighed.
“I can’t tell you,” Fawkes said.
