Dash, over, under, in between, and then the bat entered the water seamlessly and at full speed, shimmering translucent scales visible at the bottom of the river, before it burst back into bountiful blonde fur over the mainly-maritime mammal.

Thrasymede's gaw dropped as he clicked the stopwatch.

"Ha. Ha, ha, ha," said Laila proudly, grinning at the wolf, "Told you I could totally be the fastest and most amazing werepire in existence."

"A," Thrasymedes said, regaining his composure, "You're the only werepire in existence. B: That was absolutely terrible. Your time is way below what it should be. C: I can still hear you entering the water, you've got to make it smoother. And D... you can merge forms? That's... wow."

"Ha," said the protagonist, choosing to ignore A-C, because who needs those letters? Except maybe cabs, but they're inanimate objects anyway, so no one cares how they feel.

Thrasymedes stared at Laila for a few seconds. "That's the only mergence you've managed to pull off, and you don't know how you did it. Probably underwater. Definitely underwater. And you got a new haul of strawberry doughnuts, didn't you?"

This time Laila's jaw dropped. "How-?"

"You've got some pink on your chin."

"Oh. Wait. But- that- how'd you- it's just a bit of pink, how does that tell you about forms-!"

"We're staying for an extra hour next Thursday. We'll work on merging forms; werewolf, vampire and mermaid. All three at the same time if possible. I suggest you start on that for homework. Have a good day, and don't eat too many doughnuts, they'll weigh you down."

With a swift spin, he was lost between the trees. Laila strained her ears, peering between the trees to try and see him.

"You really aren't a tracker, are you? Oh well. We'll leave that for another time."

Laila yelped and spun around, where Thrasymedes was disappearing into the thickets behind her.

"THAT'S NOT FAIR HOW'D YOU EVEN GET THERE YOU CHEATER!"

She plopped down in wolf form and sighed, ears flopping over her paws. She liked being a dog. Soon she was rolling over the grass and twigs and into the river by mistake.

She swam off with the currents, hands poised before her, long glimmering tail behind her. Though Thrasymede's lessons were irritating at best, she was much better at transforming, and knew instantly which one to go to; and could pull it off immediately too.

She was soon flittering through the emeraldine forest, golden sunlight dappling the leaves around her. Diving, dipping, finding the currents that sped her along like a torpedo, fluffy wings behind her. And her bag was in the aether realm too. She decided to ignore the impossible physics. Soaring through the canopy, she blew a falling leaf up with her wings. Belly-up, keeping the leaf hovering above her, she waved to some shadowy figures in the evening breeze. They were in some complex figure-eight-like thing, leaves flowing through the circuit and up into the emptiness above the clouds. Laila grabbed her leaf and dropped it back into the cycle.

"Thanks. You're the one who found Sprite Falls, correct?"

"Mm-hm! I'm Laila!"

"Lily Ann told me about you. I'm Gladys, head of the Mid-rippan Sector. Sprite Falls is a sprite centre, so most of the workers from the sectors around here live there. If you ever feel like helping out here, we'd be very grateful."

In a great rush, all the sprites dived inwards, and the leaves rushed upwards, starting to flow along an enormous (yet mainly invisible) river of leaves.

"Good work team! We'll tackle the 130 route first thing in the morning! Third cohort, if you could take rounds near the 57-63 routes, that would be highly appreciated. Over!"

Gladys grinned, though it's hard to tell with a creature made of shadows.

"I'm heading in, kid. But I recommend you keep away from the 101 route; some sort of wolf war ceremony. Not friendly. Messed up our whole timetable, so Anabel is working overtime fixing everything. See you 'round."

Laila waved and dived upwards into the river of leaves. They'd rush past in groups of three to fifty-one, spiralling around the berth of the invisible river. She couldn't even feel an air current. Greens, browns, reds and golds, rushing through the skies above the clouds.

Soon enough, Laila dipped down through the clouds, tumbling into the trees. Back as a blonde fluffball of a wolf, she peered around a tree trunk carefully.

She was pretty certain she'd found Route 101.

Glowing red fires spitting embers dotted the clearing, wolves around each one, every fire with a single wolf in a gleaming headdress, feathered and elaborately woven. The firelight illuminated each wolf in a fierce red hue, outlining squared jaws and narrowed eyes, the occasional scar glittering like it had been stuffed in a preschooler's art closet. The grass was twisted and curled, the roots a healthy green, the tips a stark black. And at the front of the whole mess, opposite to Laila, was a squat wooden stage, illuminated with flaming torches and a plethora of threadbare banners. At the edge, a young female wolf had her grey hair done up in a bun, black glasses rested on her nose, headphones covering her ears. She quietly scribbled something down on a clipboard (with her mouth), and then spoke hurriedly into her mouthpiece. She stood stockstill for a few seconds, then reached down to grab a mighty stick and rammed something behind the stage.

An almighty boom resounded over the clearing, and the wolves paused midsentence, every head turning to the stage as someone stepped on out of the shadows, one glimmering silver paw after another. Once he was in the centre, he turned and looked out at the crowd, revealing eyes of a stark amber.

"Werewolves," he growled softly, yet every wolf heard, "Tonight we play with fire. Tonight we gamble with the lives of our descendents. Tonight..."

A soft mumur drifted through the crowd, like lawyers in the polished oaken courtroom, waiting for the judge's verdict on a case they fought for for so long...

The wolf's eyes narrowed and his claws flicked out as he tilted his head with a curling grin, revealing teeth too white, too sharp...

"Tonight we declare WAR!"

The scene before him turned to orderly pandemonium; some campfires had their leaders rear up with howls, others drew black streaks across their faces with the soot of the fires, callous roars everywhere, and a few where the leaders and their followers gazed into the fires silently, exchanging silent messages with inclinations of the head. But those few were nothing to the vast majority that were already grabbing up weapons as the silver wolf stalked offstage, tail swishing in swift, long arcs.

The gong sounded again as, deep in the woods behind the racous noise, a single pup bounded through the deep blue hues of night.