She leaves Kisamoa's little gathering with determination on her mind. There's no time like the present to get started, so with a resigned sigh the gargoyle heads deeper into the Rotunda to begin the hard work.

Clearing obstacles sounds like far too much effort for right now, so the bulky yearling decides instead to hunt for bones. That's far more her thing, so she sends Ker into the heavens to hunt for potential death. She isn't sure if Kisamoa only wants horse bones or if he's much less fussy and just wants all the marrow, but for now she decides to just find what she can.

Unfortunately, though, Ker is not as single-minded as she is. Already the eagle is distracted - she's caught sight of a dead wolf, and with a joyous screech she descends towards it. She lands heavily on the carcass and by the time Oizys has muscled her way through the undergrowth towards her, the raptor is in a state of meat-fuelled bliss. The corpse is still fresh, fresh enough to have blood coagulating slowly around it, and Ker takes great delight in burrowing right down into the depths of the wolf's entrails to pull out the juiciest, choicest portions. When Oizys reaches her, she's gleefully slurping a chunk of what looks like bowel, with blood oozing freely from her beak in gloopy crimson strands. You eat like an animal, growls Oizys, prowling near to the dead wolf and examining it with interest. Maybe its bones will appease Kisamoa...

Ker tilts her head at her bonded, a wicked glint in her eye. "Try it. Might like it." Oizys shrivels her nose and fixes her companion with a look of utter contempt. I'm a fucking herbivore, Ker, I can't eat meat or drink blood. But the eagle is having none of it. She seems oddly intent that her bonded try some of her delicious feast, so she cups up a great beakful of the wolf's blood and flutters towards the yearling. "Tryyyyyyyy iiiiiiiiiit" she croons, and forcefully shoves her beak into Oizys' mouth where she deposits the blood like a mother feeding her chick.

The gargoyle recoils, disgusted; she spits and hacks, but she's unable to stop a great dose of the blood from trickling down her throat. What the hell, Ker? Ker flutters back to the carcass and simply sends Oizys a "8D" face before tucking back into her feast.

The filly, meanwhile, feels....strange. There's an odd power in her limbs, a queer sense of hunger, of predatory instinct....she frowns and feels the blood trickling down her lips, and she tries to make the connection, wonders if that's why she's suddenly feeling like this, why she suddenly wants to reach into the nub in her mind that she uses to access her spark magic and thrive on whatever newfound strength this is....

So she does.

Birds fly from the trees in a serenade of startled squawks as a primal scream of unimaginable agony erupts from the filly's gaping jaws. It's like nothing she's ever felt before, like torture, like somebody is breaking every fucking bone in her body and replacing her veins with barbed wire....There's an audible snap as her bones crack and reform, and the girl's throat is suddenly so crushed by the transformation that she can't even howl her agony. She falls to her knees, thrashing and flailing; she's dying, this is hell itself, worse than the harpy attack, worse than The Thing in her heart, worse than everything...Ker leaps from the wolf corpse with a terrified screech, circling Oizys uselessly, unable to help, able only to watch...

Suddenly it stops. Suddenly, the girl has never felt this strong, this alive. Suddenly, there's power like nothing she's ever felt rippling through her muscles, her compact predator's muscles; her paws (paws???) crunch on the frosty soil beneath and as she shakes herself, she smells the potent stench of wolf. "FUCK that hurt" she hisses, and her voice is a savage animal's growl; she darts her tongue around her mouth, feeling razor-sharp teeth, then flicks it against a wet nose. The smells are so strong; the reek of the dead wolf nearby is so overpowering she can't blank it out, and even Ker is a mess of different bird-scents, feathers and gore and meat. All around her there's piss and shit and blood and death and everything is easily filed away in her predator's mind. There's a story to tell on every tree, and she's got the ability to read it.

Ker sends her an image of herself, and she's unsurprised - but pleasantly overjoyed - to see that she's a great black wolf, the spitting image of the one laying dead beside them, except she's so alive. She takes a few steps, feels the raw strength in her newfound predator's muscles, and flicks her furry tail around a little as she tests her new abilities. What do you think triggered this? The blood? Ker has no answer. She's just sat on a nearby branch, gazing open-beaked at her bonded - ":O :O :O."

After a few more exploratory steps, wolf-Oizys glances around with a snort. Oh, she wants to explore all the uses of her new body, test her new limits, but she's still got a job to do. "At least finding bones should be easier now," she says with a sardonic laugh that comes out as a rumbling growl. She plants her moist nose to the ground and begins to sniff, hunting for bones.