The rock formation was dark and dank. Ángela remained reasonably close to the surface at first, keeping on top of the under-layer of rocks, trying to avoid going down to the floor. Unfortunately, Faeyra was craftier than Ángela wanted to give her credit for. She heard the clatter of claws on the rocks above and froze momentarily, uncertain of her brilliant plan for the first time. Could Faeyra shapeshift too? If so, and if it was a form small enough to squeeze in between the rocks, then this was never going to work. Gritting her mousey teeth, Ángie dived between a gap in the rocks and felt the damp air rush past her as she dropped like a stone to the ground. Fortunately, the landing was soft and mice were hardy. She landed with a flump onto the soft damp earth and sat there for a moment, slightly winded.

Very little light penetrated to the bottom of the rock formation. Ángie peered around, hoping her keen mice eyes would adjust to the darkness. They did not. Mice, apparently, did not have good night vision. She didn’t need to be able to see to hear the teeming life down here, though: scuttling limbs, slithering bodies, clicking pincers. Something wiggled near her foot and she backed up, shuddering. Using her hearing and sense of touch, Ángie cautiously negotiated her way between the rocks, searching for another exit. After several minutes of crawling, she stumbled across a glimmer of light and followed it instinctively, twitching her whiskers in hope. A tiny gap between the rocks led to the outside world. She hovered just inside, blinking and waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light, trying to get a good look at where she was.

It would have been hard to identify the direction she was facing from so low to the ground even if she knew the forest, which she did not. Unfortunately, there were two things in the forest which she did know, and one of them was snuffling around outside the rocks. Ángie backed up a little and flicked her tail in annoyance, watching the huge dog. Even if he didn’t know it was her, he could still step on her by accident – or worse, give chase and try to eat her. Grinding her teeth, Ángie backed away from the exit and considered her options. She could try making a bolt for it or search for a different exit, but presumably Faeyra and her dog would both be on the lookout for her. What if she changed into a different animal? A bird, maybe?

Focusing on her magic, Ángie inhaled deeply, trying to imagine what it felt like to a be a bird. Her body writhed and shifted, slimming and lengthening into… a snake. The vibrant colours of the mouse’s world transformed into a spectrum of blue and red. Ángie could see the dog’s giant, white-orange form pacing around outside the rocks. She flicked her tongue, drawing in the scent of the scent of damp. A snake wasn’t quite as good a getaway animal as a bird was… but did it matter much, really? Most people could only shift into one animal; there was no reason for Faeyra or her dumb dog to realise that Ángela could transform herself into any animal at will.

Filled with confidence at the thought, she wormed her way towards the little gap in the rocks, feeling the odd sensation of moving without limbs. Once out in the open, she tried to mimic the natural behaviour of the snake by skirting widely around the dog, using twigs and leaves as cover. The edge of the forest was dead ahead: she could smell it. All she had to do was get between the trees, shift again into something flighted or faster, and she was home free.