Why Am I Not Shifting Novels & Stories

“It will be easier to talk if you shift.” “I don’t think that is a good idea, not yet anyway.” I’m pacing, using the wall to steady myself, but too frustrated with this vague back and forth to stand still. “Explain. Now, please. What did you mean the bite ‘was’ bad? Why won’t you shift? Those are two direct questions I want direct answers to.”

“The brat keeps popping up in random places as different creepy animals. Last night, I tried to go to bed, but I couldn’t. There was a capuchin named Mallory in my bed.” I laughed at the imagery. “Sounds like she’s getting pretty good at it.” Rose flopped onto my bed, and put her face into my pillows. “Whmm mant mmmft.” “I’m sorry, I don’t speak pillow. Could you translate please?” Rose lifted her head, and practically shouted, “Why the hell can’t I shift?” “Well,” I tapped my pencil against my lips, “there may be a few reasons. First, you don’t hold still enough to melt into a new form. Second, you have a hard time holding a picture of your chosen animal. Third, you just might not have the

The trouble is, she hasn't shifted often enough in recent years. To stay nimble, shifters must shift back and forth as nature calls. A shifter who stays too long in beast form, will forget how to become human again, and vice versa. Living with Minette, her hafling granddaughter who never manifested as a shifter, she wasn't able to run wild as often as she'd like. Especially when they were hiding in cities. Now, weak, hungry, and injured, it is even harder to call up the magic. Remember. Remember what it's like. She thinks about her first shift at puberty, the joy of chasing her sister through the French countryside. There.

“Your body might be starting the shifting process, Sky. You can’t just discount discomfort.” I took her wrist and gently moved it away from my neck. “How about I try to make dinner and you tell me about how this whole thing works.” Her eyebrow went up. “Did you…did you not learn about shifting?” Pulling out a knife and cubing up the spam, I laughed. “I mean, you kind of tend to tune out things you don’t think you’re ever going to need. Plus, when everyone around us was shifting, we were pretty much on lock down to make sure we wouldn’t. Since it’s not a birthday thing, Father thought we might shift past the inhibitor.”

“No. We won't be needing it.” “But walking will take too much time, and…” he looked down at his feet, a little ashamed. “Shifting will take a lot out of me.” Bryce's condition was indeed rare, and was something he wore with shame, even after so many years of proving himself just as efficient with it. He couldn't shift quickly, and usually went through excruciating pain during the process, making it a dreadful experience for him.

"It’s beautiful. Thank you.” “You’re welcome…” He was also the first person to genuinely thank me for anything in a while. Then, softly, I added. “I also… wanted to ask you something important.” His eyes met mine again, this time they were sharper and more attentive, all fun and games discarded. “I haven’t shifted in years,” I said. “At first it was because I didn’t need to, I was working all day and everyday and Kira and I were exhausted. She wasn’t in a good place at all and I never even tried to shift but then I tried shifting yesterday and nothing happened…”

"Mum calls me her kettle sometimes. It sucks a steam is all I can do. I can't even do some cool stuff like the wolves here. They can shift! I can't." I take him in. That is odd, indeed. A boy of his age should be able to shift, unless there is something stopping his beast from coming out. In some cases it could mean the Shifter is latent, but in most cases... The blockage is as a result of some trauma. "Why do you think you can't shift?" He shrugs, but there's something stiff about it. "I don't know... Everytime I try to, I always see her." "Who?"

“We’re very, very stuck.” We sit there for a moment in silence. My mind reels over what to do. I could mind-link with my parents and have them send a warrior down to pick us up, but the road conditions are awful, and I’m sure anyone else coming down the roadway is facing similar issues getting back to the city. I look at Sarah. She looks at me. “You can’t shift yet.” She shakes her head. “It’s a good thing you have that coat,” I breathe, wrenching open my door and reaching for her hand.