Her body feels like a temple, a shrine to the savage creature whose flesh she has stolen. There's such power in her limbs, in the paws that crunch the earth below them and the fur-covered hindquarters that propel them; in the jaws that hang slightly open, rimmed with razor-sharp teeth. She feels as though she could run a marathon, hunt any animal unfortunate enough to cross her path, slay with a single bite and devour the carcass. Every ounce of the pain that the change caused her is worth it because from the prey she has suddenly become the predator, and it's fucking beautiful.

Placing her nose to the ground, the wolf-girl begins to hunt for bones. Everything is so clear, each scent easily distinguished from the hundreds of others that lather the clearing. Aside from the odour of death that rises from the corpse of the wolf nearby, she can just make out a lingering scent of older-death from a short distance away. That's promising....Before she can head towards it, however, she hears a voice. You, you there. It's an odd voice, laced with wicked mirth, and Oizys turns her canine body towards it. It is a mare, small but sturdy, and decidedly tasty-looking. It appears that the predator's hungers are an occupational hazard of stealing their bodies, and the yearling digests this with interest. She looms closer to the stranger, a string of drool hanging from her jowls as she unleashes a feral growl, keen to see how much terror she can incite with the carnivorous power of this body.

The mare remarks on the cleverness of taking from the dead, and wolf-Oizys twitches her snout. "Even if they weren't dead, I'd like to see them object." She grins a wolf's grin, pondering on the unique pleasure that would be afforded by attacking any creature who dared object to her thievery, slaying them with their own body. Ker gives a somewhat subdued hoot from over on the wolf's carcass, too busy devouring it to pay a great deal of attention to the newcomer.

You are doing as the Grinning Sea bids? Beloved will join you, then. The Grinning Sea, she assumes, is Kisamoa. A rather apt name. "Yes. There must be bones around here, and this body seems ideal to search for them." There's a sudden burst of white smoke and from the heavens drops a white raven, quickly reforming as a winged filly. That transformation looks far less painful than what Oizys just endured, but she supposes that is the unique allure of Dark magic - it has a price, and it is a price that the bulky yearling is more than willing to pay. She greets them, and states that she will help gather bones, before offering a compliment to Oizys' magic - the wolf dips her head, accepting the praise. As much as the girl prefers to operate alone, she cannot deny that the three of them will accomplish the task far faster than she could alone. "In this form, I can sniff out the bones and dig them up. You two can help by making a pile of them, which we can then drop back to Barnacle Bill."

Just like that, she's off. She leaves Ker to feast on the carcass whilst she plants her wet nose to the ground and follows the scent, shaggy black fur cascading with the movements of her powerful frame. "There," she announces to her compatriots, and the word is bark-like in this carnivore's voice of hers. At the base of a large tree, the death-scent has reached its peak, and Oizys begins to dig with her large, blunt-clawed paws. The bones aren't buried too deeply, and she soon unearths them, exposing them to the chill spring air. She nudges them out of the hole so they are on display for either Beloved or Verro to take, then follows her nose again towards the next location.