Still don't own it.

Chapter two; this is where the shape-shifting comes in. Again, apologies for the accents.

SSS

"She can be placed in one of the inner rooms; the nursery should be put to its proper use."

The queen swings open the doors to the nursery, ignoring the protests of the servants, only to be greeted by a hulking black wolf, hackles raised and teeth bared in a snarl. The queen stumbles backward, and behind her one of the servants mumbles,

"We warned ye, majesty."

The wolf lets out a deep growl, stalking closer to the open door.

"We warned ye not to move try ta move her."

A swirling cloud of black smoke obscures the wolf, and the doors slam shut, sealing them out of the room once more. The queen gasps.

"What was that?"

"She's protected, majesty; the raven, the wolf; 'e 'as other shapes too, majesty." One of the servant women huffs around the pile of cleaning rags in her arms.

"We cannae move her; cleanin' and fresh'nin up's all we can do wi'out rufflin' 'is feathers." Another agrees, her accent almost too thick to be understood, and the queen frowns.

"That was the raven?"

"Aye, majesty." One of the men nods vigorously, eyes wide. "'E takes many forms, 'e does. The wolf and the bird be just two of 'em."

From inside the room there's the sound of snarling and gnashing teeth, and the servants all retreat further.

"'E be in no mood fer no more trouble today, majesty; just let 'er alone." One of the women pleads, tugging hesitantly on the queen's sleeve. "She does no 'arm bein' where she is."

The young queen jerks her sleeve away and stalks back to the doors. She tries to jerk them open, but they refuse to budge, and she steps back, hands going to her hips.

"Why does he protect her?" she asks the corridor at large. She's answered by a series of heavily accented mumbles, which, to her hearing, all add up to:

"No one knows."

Inside the room, the growling has stopped, but the sound of paws pacing back and forth over the stone floor continues long after she sends the servants away. When it finally ceases, she moves back to the doors, trying once more to pry them open. They swing easily on their hinges, and she peers inside. There's no sign of the wolf. Instead, the raven is once more perched atop the bedposts, glaring down at her warily, and she tries to return its stare. She only manages it for a few moments before she has to blink and look away. The bird makes a croaking noise and continues to watch her as she retreats from the room.

SSS

R & R ~Seeker