Seasons’ Change, a story for the Giraffe Call.

To [personal profile] ellenmillion‘s prompt.

It was going to be Autumn soon.

Cameron could feel the shedding, even in human form, the tail changing, the teeth trying to rearrange in a jaw that wasn’t even, technically, there. Season changes were always like this, and it would just get worse until the first full moon of autumn.

It was time to move from the lake cabin up the mountain to the cold-is-coming place. When the change had first started happening – just as high school was ending – Cameron had tried to live with people. There was, rumor went, such a thing as a extrovert shapeshifter, a social-creature creature-feature.

That had lasted exactly one year, one cycle of the changes, three hundred sixty-five days of trying to be two things at once while the second thing kept changing. There might be extrovert ‘shifters, but they were not like Cameron.

Packing bags didn’t take too long. Longer was fighting the urge – two sets of urges. The dam wasn’t perfect, but, then again, it didn’t need to be. It wasn’t like Cameron was leaving behind a beaver family here.

(The bear had wanted a family. Then again, the bear got spring).

If the dam was gone when summer came again, well, the beaver could rebuild it. Right now, the wildcat wanted something else. Wanted to chase a mouse, the cabin had mice. The lake cabin almost always had mice (the mountain cabin wouldn’t dare).

At this point in the season change, it was a toss-up whether the cat or the beaver would get the skin. Cameron let go of the shape, and let them battle it out.

A wildcat padded into the cabin, sniffing out the trail of a mouse…

…and came nose to nose with another wildcat.

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