The Bane fight felt slowed down, as if it took hours, but now everything is happening too fast. Black Tarn is in the middle of the parking lot, near the diesel pumps, howling as if she can summon all the spirits of northern New York. Scarper, seven feet tall and shaggy—still in his near-human form—keeps trying to drag or carry Clay. And Clay is a nightmare, a tangle of shifting flesh, black as oil except for occasional white glimpses of bone or teeth. Where is his blood?
You scan the parking lot. Someone is going to see Black Tarn. In fact, a truck driver is slip-sliding through the snow around his cab now, and if he gets near her, you fear what she'll do. She already walked under a camera pointed at the pumps, and the other two will be there in a moment. A "huge dog" recorded on camera is bad enough, but what happens if someone sees Clay?
And what happened to Clay? Can you help him? Should you? As you watch, the now-familiar face of "Uncle" Clay bursts out of the black tangle, expression twisted in a rictus of agony. You finally see blood around his lips.
Maybe eating the horse was a bad idea.
I need to keep that trucker away from Black Tarn. I get up in his face and scare him off. Better I "act crazy" than a wolf tear him in half.
My near-human glabro form will give me the intimidating presence I need to frighten away that trucker, without looking obviously supernatural.
I pick up a rock or something and break that camera. Better a vandalism charge than a recording of Clay.
I know how to sneak around a camera. I run for Scarper and Clay and cleverly maneuver them around the edge of the parking lot to the van.
We need to help Clay: I run to Scarper, steel my nerves, and help him drag Clay to the van.
I shift to glabro form, giving me the size I need to help carry Clay.
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