As I walked back to my hut with Rohan at my side, I asked. "I have not shifted here, at least in public. You saw me back in Forks and know my abnormal size. Did you tell anyone? Even my uncle?"
Rohan shook his head, "No. It never came up. I was just asked what your shape was."
"And you have heard no rumors about my size? No one else has brought it up?"
"Correct." He said evenly, "Why do you ask?"
I glanced sideways at him. "Because it makes me wonder about the Fox Clan. Why do they want me? No… let me ask you another question. If I can match a Minotaur in my human form, just how strong do you think I will be in my half shift?"
Rohan shook his head and exhaled slowly, "There is no telling. You could potentially be stronger than any Clan member in thousands of years. But only you and I know about your enormous size in your tiger shape."
It was my turn to shake my head, "No. There was one other who saw me. The Fox Clan member who was sent to first check on me. I shifted in front of him. Before I knew about the Tribe."
Rohan fell silent at my words, his expression unreadable as usual. I left him to mull it over. The inner clan politics bored me quite frankly. Once I had what I needed, I was gone anyway. These few months just showed me more that this was not my home. No, I think my home is a person, not a place.
That evening, I sought out Dorje for a spar. I needed the distraction, and he was always willing to trade bruises. By the time we were finished, both of us were limping while half laughing as we made our way to some benches nearby.
"You're getting faster," Dorje muttered between breaths, rubbing his shoulder where my last strike had landed. "Foxes won't like that."
I gave him a crooked grin. "Foxes don't like much when they aren't the ones winning."
As if summoned by the words, I saw her. Hu Mei stood at the edge of the sparring yard, watching with that same unreadable smile she wore when looking at me. When Dorje caught sight of her, he gave me a look, one brow raised, and muttered something under his breath about "trouble with a tail." And made his excuses to leave me alone.
As if she had been waiting to catch me alone, Hu Mei moved toward me. Her steps were light and smooth, her hips swaying. The kind of walk that turned every eye her way and held them until they became self-conscious and turned away, blushing.
Even in her human form, she carried a fox-like grace. She used her whole body like a weapon, and every movement was calculated to unbalance whoever watched.
"You fight well," she said, her voice smooth, low, a melody meant to slip under the skin. "Better than most who've been here far longer. Even Dorje struggles to keep pace."
I gave a shrug. "He lands plenty of hits."
Her smile curved just enough to show a hint of teeth. "He lands them, yes. But you… You shake them off. That makes you dangerous. Stronger than most realize." She stopped just close enough that I could feel the heat of her body radiating toward me. "Strength like that shouldn't be left wandering without a place. Without… purpose."
I leaned back slightly, feigning casual. "My purpose here is training. Nothing more."
She tilted her head, studying me, eyes narrowing as though peeling back layers. "Training is a means, not an end. You know that. The fire in you burns too bright to stay in the shadows forever. The Clans see it. My Clan sees it."
She took a seat next to me on the bench, slightly closer than would be normal for two people who had met only a handful of times. Close enough for any accidental touch to be played off as a coincidence. "A union between fox and tiger would give you allies. Protection. Influence. And perhaps something… more."
I met her gaze, refusing to flinch. "That sounds a lot like politics dressed up as a bedtime story."
Hu Mei's laugh was soft, sultry, but the calculation in her eyes never faltered. "Politics are simply survival, Thomas. Surely you see that. Alone, you will always be a threat to someone. With me… Sorry, with my Clan, you would be untouchable. Respected. Desired." Her voice lingered on the last word, making it sound less like diplomacy and more like an invitation.
I exhaled slowly, pushing myself up before she could lean in any closer. My tone stayed even, steady. "I didn't come here for politics or alliances. My focus is on my training. That's all I can give right now."
Something flickered across her face — not quite anger, not quite amusement. Her smile settled back into place, but it was thinner now. "You can't run from this forever. The Clans will demand to know where you stand. And when that day comes, you'll wish you had chosen someone at your side."
I turned away before she could press further, my pulse still drumming with the weight of her words. The fox wasn't wrong — the Clans would keep circling, trying to bind me before I even knew how to control myself. And if I stayed here, they'd keep cornering me until I slipped.
No. I needed space. Distance. Somewhere, the whispers couldn't reach me, and no calculating eyes could measure me. It wasn't time to leave yet, but getting out of the village for a time would be a good thing.
By the time the moon rose, my mind was made up. At dawn, I would leave the village behind and take to the mountains. Just me, the fire, and the tiger.
The morning air was sharp and cold, with a hint of moisture in the air, hinting at snow later in the day. The village was quiet as I took the path to the younger Clan member's training ground. I knew I would find Rohan there, and if I was going to leave, I felt I needed to tell him at least.
He watched me approach him, his eyes narrowing at the small pack slung over my shoulder.
"So, you've decided."
I nodded. "It's just what I see as the natural next step in my training. Besides, I could use the space away from the politics, away from other people's agendas."
For a long moment, Rohan said nothing. Then he gave a single slow nod. "Then go. But don't vanish completely. Check in when you can. Even tigers need interaction with their own kind."
A faint smile touched my lips. "That almost sounds like you'll miss me."
"Hardly." He arched a brow. "But if you don't come back, Dorje will sulk. And I've no patience for his whining."
I slung the pack back onto my shoulder. "Then I guess I'll just have to come back and kick him around every once in a while."
The first rays of dawn touched the mountaintops as I left the village behind, my feet carrying me toward the wild, where only my own thoughts would keep me company.
The path ran before me, as far as my eye could see. I knew eventually I would have to leave it, make a path of my own. But for now, I simply wanted distance from the village and all the distractions that tried to take my time away from my goal.
A day and a half later, I paused at a ridge, scanning for what I needed. A place to leave my pack and clothes, something to come back to when I wanted rest. Seeing nothing yet, I kept moving.
Just before I needed to find a place to rest for the night, I found it. A cleft in the mountainside, half-shielded by a jut of ice-covered stone. Big enough to crawl into, hidden enough to keep my belongings safe from the weather and scavengers. It wasn't big enough for me in my Tiger shift, but anything that big probably already had an occupant. I stripped down and put my clothes in the pack, then crawled out of the den. I adjusted a few rocks in the area to make it harder to see and pulled the fire into my body, completing my shift.
I stretched, my claws digging deep into the ground through the frozen turf. When I was finished, I stood at my full height at 6ft tall and nearly 15feet long head to tail.
The world looked smaller from here, the ridge less daunting. Snow swirled around me in white flurries, but where it touched my fur, it melted instantly against the heat of my body.
I lowered my head, sniffed the air. Sharp. Clean. Untouched. My breath came out in great clouds, more steam than mist.
Then I moved.
The first stride shattered the crust of ice beneath me, scattering shards across the slope. The second had me leaping, paws striking with a weight that shook snow from the ledges. By the third, I was running. A blur of muscle tearing down the mountainside, wind howling in my ears.
I had forgotten just how free I felt when I shifted and ran through the forest back in Forks. Now I ran through a land of snow and ice with few trees to keep me covered.
The challenges of my size started to show in this terrain. My paws, each over 16in long and wide, punched holes deep into drifts. Every step resulted in a loud tremor, cracking frozen earth. There was no subtlety in this form in these conditions. I needed to learn and adapt, test my footing before placing my weight.
Snow sprayed in glittering arcs as I tore across the ridge, each bound leaving deep craters behind. In Forks, the forest had softened my steps, trees and soil muffling the sound of my paws. Here in the high places of Nepal, there was no such cover. Every movement echoed. Every stride proclaimed my presence to anything with ears.
I slowed, adjusting. Testing. The drifts weren't uniform, some carried me with only a crunch, while others collapsed, sending my limbs plunging nearly to the shoulder. A normal tiger would skim the surface, weight spread across smaller paws. Me? I was an avalanche in black stripes.
I tried a sidelong leap, twisting to land on rock instead of snow. The landing cracked stone, splinters flying, but at least the footing held. I snorted, steam pluming from my mouth, and tried again — lighter this time, pulling back my strength the way I had with my fire-dial. It worked… barely. My bulk still drove fissures into the frozen ridge.
Frustration rumbled in my chest. Speed and strength were mine in abundance, but stealth, subtlety, finesse? Those would take work.
Yet the air was so sharp, so clean, that the growl faded before it left my throat. My muscles surged with every stride. My heart hammered not with fear, but exhilaration. For the first time in weeks, no eyes followed me. No schemes pressed in. It was just me, the fire, and the endless white.
I angled upward, muscles straining, claws scraping at ice and stone. Each bound carried me higher into the peaks, where the wind screamed and the cold bit harder — though my body burned hot enough that the frost steamed away before it could settle.
This was what I had come for. Not politics. Not whispers. Just the challenge of the wild. The only opponent here was myself.