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Clara was careful to make sure she came home for lunch and dinner that day. But after her aunt had gone to bed, the night was so lovely Clara was tempted to sneak out for an evening ramble. Then she heard the bark of a fox in the woods. It was almost as if the fox was calling to her. Knowing her aunt was a sound sleeper, Clara slipped downstairs and unlocked the back door, closing it quietly behind her. She then transformed into a sleek red fox and raced down the garden, jumping onto and over the wall. She very quickly sniffed out a family of foxes nearby. She watched them for a while from a distance, not wanting to scare them. Then, after the mother fox had left the three cubs to look for food, Clara edged out into the clearing. The cubs were nervous at first, wary of the strange fox coming slowly towards them. But then, when she didn’t behave aggressively, their curiosity got the better of them and soon Clara was playing with the fox cubs as if she was one of them, rolling on the ground, batting them with her paws and growling as they gently bit her ears. They played until they were exhausted, and when the cubs curled up and went to sleep, Clara yawned and decided they looked so cosy she would do the same. She was woken abruptly, some time later, when the mother fox returned and was livid about the stranger lying with her litter. The mother fox gave Clara a sharp bite on the rump. Clara yelped in pain and leapt to her feet, but then her fox instincts took over and she found herself snarling and lunging at the mother fox, trying to drive her away. The mother fox, however, was strong and experienced. This wasn’t the first time her cubs had been threatened. She stood her ground, baring her teeth and snarling back at Clara. The two foxes clashed and were rolling around, engaged in battle, teeth gnashing and spittle flying while the cubs whined pathetically in the background, when a small voice at the back of Clara’s mind suddenly said, What are you doing? You’re not a fox!
Clara’s human consciousness snapped back into control and she immediately backed away from the mother fox in horror. She turned and ran away as fast as she could to put distance between her and the foxes, then transformed, mid-sprint, into her human form. She didn’t stop running until she was back in the cottage garden, climbing into her nightclothes. Once dressed, she sat on the step by the back door and considered what had happened. She was shaking. She felt sick with shame about interfering with the fox family. She hoped she hadn’t hurt the mother fox and the family would be okay. Clara’s lower back was sore where the fox had bitten her and, when she touched it, her fingers came away with spots of blood on them. That’s no more than I deserve, she thought miserably. What happened to me? She remembered how the fox’s instincts had taken control of her mind and body and she shuddered. I got careless, she thought. That’s what happened. One of the first lessons her great-aunt had taught her when she began to shape-shift was to make sure her human consciousness always stayed in control when she was in animal form. Tonight, Clara had forgotten that.
Maybe Aunt Selina is right, and I am spending too much time transforming, Clara thought. She dragged herself to her feet and went into the cottage. Carefully, she closed and locked the door and crept up to bed.
From then on, she made sure she only spent a couple of hours at a time in animal form. She was conscientious about making sure her human mind always stayed in control and she had breaks in between transformations. Selina seemed relieved that Clara appeared to have listened to her, after all.
As they ate dinner together in the evenings, Clara would tell Selina where she’d gone that day and what animals she’d become, and Selina would reciprocate by telling Clara stories about her own transformations when she was younger.
“One night,” Selina began, “I transformed into a fox and went through the village and out the other side to explore. Unfortunately, the hunting dogs from the manor had somehow escaped from the grounds. They were well trained in hunting foxes and it didn’t take them long to sniff me out. One minute I was trotting along, minding my own business, and the next a pack of dogs were chasing me, barking and slavering like they hadn’t eaten for a week. Gave me quite a fright at first. After a while, though, I got bored of running away from them and transformed into one of them.” Selina chuckled. “That confused them. They ran in circles for a while, not noticing there was one more dog than there should’ve been, then they wandered off in the direction of the manor, me tagging along behind. When I thought it was safe, I discreetly disappeared into some convenient bushes.”
Clara’s eyes were wide and her heart thumped when she thought about what it must’ve been like to be chased by several snarling dogs intent on catching her and ripping her to pieces. “Blimey, Aunt Selina, you kept a cool head,” she said. “I don’t think I would’ve thought of transforming into one of them.”
“No, you’d probably have transformed into an owl and flown away,” said Selina fondly. “I was never very good at birds, so my options were limited.” She rose to take the dirty dishes to the sink. As they were washing and drying the dishes, there was a knock at the front door. This was a highly unusual occurrence for the time of night, and they glanced at each other curiously, wondering who was there.
They opened the door to find a policeman standing outside.
“Good evening, ladies,” the policeman said. “I’m Constable Pearce from the local constabulary. We’ve received a report of a missing child, and are canvassing the neighbourhood for information.” He held up a clipboard for Selina and Clara to look at. There was a picture of a smiling girl clipped to it. “Have you seen this girl?” he asked. “She’s four years old, has blonde hair and blue eyes, and was wearing a yellow dress and trainers with red flashing lights when she went missing from home this morning. She may be with a black Scottish Terrier, which has also gone missing from the same address.”
“Officer, if I had seen an unescorted four-year-old girl wandering about, I assure you I would’ve reported it,” said Selina firmly, peering at the picture.
“Nevertheless,” the constable sighed. “We have to ask everyone the question.”
Selina tipped her head in understanding.
“I’ve been out in the woods at the back of the cottage all day today, and I didn’t see anyone,” said Clara, also looking closely at the picture.
The policeman frowned wearily and passed them a piece of paper which he unclipped from under the picture. “If you do see or hear anything, can you please call this number?” he said handing the leaflet to them.
“Of course,” said Selina. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“We’re organising search parties from the village square at first light,” said the constable. “If you’re able, your participation would be appreciated.” And he nodded smartly before wishing them a good night and striding away.
Slowly, Selina closed the door. “The poor child,” she muttered.
“Will she be all right, Aunt Selina?” asked Clara, her face pale.
Selina looked at Clara. Her niece seemed frightened.
“If she wandered away or chased the dog and got lost, then she’ll most likely be found,” Selina said. “The police have dogs to help them find missing people.”
Tears welled in Clara’s eyes. She’d seen news stories about missing children before, but they were strangers – they’d gone missing in other places Clara had never heard of, far away. To have something so awful happen so close by made it real, and more frightening somehow.
“We have to find her,” Clara said, as tears slowly slipped down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. “We can’t sit here and do nothing, Aunt Selina.”
“I don’t know,” said Selina. “There’ll be a lot of police out and about tonight, and they’ll most likely have the dogs out. We could do more harm than good if we interfere. It could be dangerous, too, if they’re rounding up strays looking for this terrier that’s missing.”
“Then we won’t go out as dogs,” said Clara desperately. “We’ll come up with another plan. Please, Aunt Selina?”
After a brief pause Selina put her hand on Clara’s shoulder and nodded. Of course they had to do something. Neither of them would be able to sleep knowing a small child was lost and alone out in the dark. Selina strode over to a drawer and pulled out a map of the local area. They went through to the kitchen and laid it out on the table.
“Okay,” said Selina. “Assuming the girl lives on the other side of the village, which would explain why it has taken so long for us to find out about it, where would she be likely to go if she’d wandered off?”
“No,” said Clara. “Where is the dog more likely to go? Maybe she let it out accidentally and then chased it.”
Selina cocked her head in agreement. They studied the map for a few minutes in silence.
“Here,” said Selina, pointing to an unpopulated marshy area beyond the other side of town. “It’s wild, so you could easily get lost. People rarely go there, so they wouldn’t see the child. There are lots of boggy areas where one might get stuck, and I imagine the smells of the wild animals would be very attractive to a terrier. They have natural instincts for hunting in burrows.”
Selina and Clara exchanged a worried glance. They could only hope that neither dog nor child was stuck in a burrow. Clara shuddered at the thought. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go out in owl form and fly over the area. No one will see me, and my owl eyes will be able to see things the police might miss in the dark.”
“I’ll go out in my cat form,” said Selina. “I can squeeze into small spaces that way. I’ll start by trying to find the girl’s house – I don’t think that’ll be difficult – and I’ll make my way towards you. The police might’ve come to the same conclusion as us, so it might be busy out there. Don’t take any risks!” she warned.
A little while later, as Clara was soaring up over the woods in owl form, she glanced back at the cottage and saw her cat aunt slinking out of the back door.
Clara wasted no time. She sped over the village and towards the scrubland where she and Selina had agreed to look for the little girl. She slowed as she approached the area and flew lower. She could see shadows moving at the edge of the scrubland and could hear voices calling to dogs, which were sniffing in the undergrowth. Not wishing to cover ground the dogs had already surveyed, Clara flew on. The girl had been missing all day and Clara supposed she could have travelled quite far.
Clara flew in low, wide circles, her owl eyes peering down through the long grass and shrubs, looking for anything out of the ordinary. On and on she searched. Occasionally she landed to check out anomalies in the landscape – bushes that could be mistaken for a dog or a little girl, broken branches, areas where the mud appeared to be churned up – but she didn’t find anything that pointed to the little girl’s whereabouts. On a third pass of one area, however, she thought she heard a faint whimper. Clara’s head moved from side to side, trying to locate where the noise had come from. Had she imagined it? It had been so soft she thought she might have. She saw and heard nothing more, but circled the area one more time just in case. She was about to move on to a new area, when she glimpsed a red flash out of the corner of her eye. Swinging around, she saw it again. Flash, flash, flash. Clara’s heart sped up. The policeman had said the little girl was wearing trainers that had flashing lights on them. The flashing stopped. Clara flew down for a closer look. She identified the flashes as having indeed come from a shoe. The shoe was attached to a leg which protruded out from under a bush. Landing as closely to the bush as she could, Clara stared into the murky gloom beneath. A pair of eyes glinted back at her, and there was a faint growl. It appeared the girl and dog were together, as everyone had thought. Clara felt bubbles of excitement stirring inside her. But the girl wasn’t moving; she appeared to be asleep or unconscious. As Clara’s eyes adjusted to the deep darkness under the bush, she saw the child was covered in mud. She looked like she’d taken a bath in it. There were only a few patches of pale skin poking through the dirt. What on earth happened to her? Clara thought. Then she noticed the little dog was also covered in mud, and was shivering. These two need to be cleaned and warmed up, fast, Clara thought. But how? Clara could probably manage to carry the child back if she were a horse, but how could she get the child onto her back? She thought hard about her dilemma but couldn’t for the life of her think of a solution. What was she going to do?