Mavis took a deep breath, let the leopard rise in her chest, and shifted.
It was like—like nothing she’d ever felt. As though she merged with the leopard inside her, and when she took her next breath, she was changed.
She had teeth. She had claws. She flexed them, watching in wonder as they extended and retracted.
She had a tail.
She felt so utterly powerful, so graceful. She was used to her human body being a bit weak, older and less capable than it had once been. And she’d never been much of an athlete.
Now, though, she looked around and she knew she could climb one of the mountains around them. She could scale a tree with no effort at all.
She felt her tail lash with excitement. And as though that had been a sign, Wilson, Nina, and Joel all shifted too, and they were together: four snow leopards, ready to run.
A family of snow leopards, all together.
Wilson looked at Mavis, seemed to understand that she was ready, and bounded forward into the trees. Mavis shot after him, with Nina and Joel right on her tail.
They ran together, up the mountainside. Mavis marveled: she was so fast. So strong. She bounded over rocks that she would’ve been hard-pressed to climb in her human form. She could leap astounding distances. She felt like she could race along forever.
After a while, though, Joel circled around in front of them, tossed a playful look back, and leapt up to climb a tree.
Maybe it should’ve seemed childish—Mavis had probably last climbed a tree at age ten—but she immediately picked another one and s
tarted up it herself. She found she could dig her claws in and climb it as easily as if it were a ladder.
That started a round of playing. The four of them chased each other up and down tree trunks, leapt from branch to branch, hid behind rocks—Mavis was reminded forcefully of games she’d played with Nina as a little girl.
They’d had so much fun. Nowadays, although there was so much love between them, there wasn’t nearly as much fun as there used to be. The years of sadness and separation stood between them and the lightheartedness they’d used to have.
But her leopard didn’t care about that. That was in the past. What was important to a snow leopard was the now.
Eventually, they were all tired out, and Wilson led the way to a bunch of sun-warmed rocks where they could flop down and rest. Mavis was full of a humming contentment.
Wilson stretched out next to her and nuzzled her ear. She felt a burst of warmth in her chest and turned to nuzzle back.
It was overwhelming, how happy she was. Here with her family.
She’d hoped that Wilson would get along with Nina, and in the last month, her hopes had been exceeded. As Wilson had packed up his life in Washington, putting in his retirement, he’d spent as much time as possible out here in Montana, and he and Nina had developed a kind of a deep-running affection that warmed Mavis’ heart to the core. They went on hikes together, and exchanged outdoor survival tips—Nina had spent much more time living rough in the mountains than Wilson had, but Wilson of course had had the intense survivalist training from the Marine Corps.
Mavis was grateful—she always had a hard time talking to Nina about her time living alone, traveling through the mountains in snow leopard form, passing from town to town. The guilt and shame she felt was too strong.
She listened if Nina wanted to talk, of course, but she couldn’t be easy about it no matter how hard she tried. So Wilson was a blessing: someone who could talk to Nina about her experiences from a different perspective. The perspective that experiences like that could make you stronger, hardier.
Wilson and Joel had also started to bond. Joel was a bit shyer about it than Nina, though. Mavis privately found it adorable, though she wouldn’t ever say anything like that to poor Joel. But he’d latched on to Wilson a bit, asking about his time in the Marine Corps, about being in the service with so many other shifters. Every time Wilson called him “son,” Mavis thought she could see a faint flush of happiness on his cheeks.
Eventually, they all collected themselves from the sun-warmed rocks and made a more leisurely stroll back down the mountainside. When they got to the clearing where they’d started, Mavis shifted back, and everyone followed suit.
Nina immediately flung her arms around her. “Oh, Mom,” she said. “I’m so happy.”
“Me too, baby,” Mavis said into her hair. “I used to wish I could be like you, when you were gone, so I could’ve followed you when you left and we could’ve been together. And now it’s true.”
Nina held on tight, and Mavis blinked away tears of happiness. Inside her, there was a purring sensation—her leopard, she thought with a sense of wonder. Her leopard was purring.
They split up after that, Nina and Joel each heading off to work, while Mavis and Wilson went back to her apartment.
Though they wouldn’t be there much longer, because they were looking for a house in the area—something small but well-constructed, with a beautiful view. Mavis couldn’t wait.
Inside, Wilson caught her up in his arms with a growl. “You have no idea,” he said, his voice vibrating against her neck and making her shiver, “how hard it was for me to hold back just now.”