The morning of the third day aboard the Aegir found Janus' disquiet growing. It seemed the closer they got to Guardian Isle, the deeper the furrows in his brow grew. His smile returned whenever he sat or talked with any of his companions, or when he was in the hold, ensuring the comfort of their steeds, but in his private moments, when he felt no one watched, he brooded, mulling over what was to come.

Up till now, everything that had transpired had taken place out of doors, in what he considered to be "his cathedral", but that was about to change. They would be going beneath the earth, away from the plants and animals that responded to his will, and served Beldrem as he did. Then there was what Yahim had learned at the Tower about the denizens of the catacombs, the Un-living. They were as unnatural a thing as he could imagine, and totally beyond the powers that were granted him by The Father. Janus knew his own limitations. Though he carried weapons, he bore no illusions about his ability to weild them, and his "armor", basically lacquered bark fixed to a leather jerkin, wouldn't do much to turn a serious attack.

So he searched his mind and soul, trying to come up with something he could do to be useful to the others in the troubles that surely lay ahead. More and more he was becoming convinced, that he would be useless, except for the meager amounts of healing he could deliver, or perhaps as a target, to draw attention away from the others who were actually not limited by the surroundings. Neither option held much appeal for him. Aislinn's healing far outstripped his, and he wasn't hardy enough to last long as a distraction, and he knew it.

So he brooded in silence, deep in the bowels of the ship, the natural world isolated outside the timbers of her hull, he could feel her rise and fall on the swells of the sea, and her movements forward, propelled by the winds. He sat in the hold on a few bags of oats, near the horses, and Ellyn, ever present, curled up next to his hip. Janus allowed the rhythmic rocking of the ship to relax him, his blue eyes fluttering closed as he opened himself to the Grove, in far off Derugar. He could feel the calm of nature fill him, and he prayed, not for the first time, to be shown a way.

He gave no actual words to his prayer, nor defined thought. He removed his will totally from the equation, and let the stress he was putting on himself flow through the link to the Grove, His Grove.
As he felt the nature of the world through the communion, he slowly came to realize that all things served their purpose, even the seed that never sprouts, would eventually nourish something else, and again journey through the circle, changed yet still filling a role..... changed.....

Changed....

Thats when he became aware, that the part of the Communion that was Janus, that existed in the hold of the Aegir, was changing. Much like when he had first assumed the shape of the eagle in the heights of the Pass of Tomiak, a brief moment of panic swept over him, but he calmed himself quickly, accepting what was happening. His legs were fusing... he could feel them becoming one limb, and extension of his torso. His arms were fusing to his sides, becoming a part of his body, fingers melding into his thighs. Hair follicles and skin became covered with hard scales, almost as if fingernails sprouted over his body, and overlapped into an armored covering.

His eyes changed as well, pupils changing from ovals to slits, the already dim environs of the hold becoming dark, as he began to sense a different range of light. His teeth became shorter, and sharper, except for the canines, which hollowed, and elongated, and he could feel the poison glands forming in the roof of his mouth. His heart pushed his blood through his body as it always had, but the blood felt hot, filling him with energy, and speed, and even as he realized he was a serpent, he could feel that precious warmth leeching from him, in the cool depths of the ship.

He extended his tongue, and in wonderment, he tasted the horses on the air. Again he sampled the air, and he catalogued the nuances of scent. Ellyn, and the horses were strong, the lingering taste of man, and then underneath, barely perceptible, prey....

His new body, sleek and strong undulated, and waved, and he slithered off the sacks of oats. He knew what he tasted for now, and his questing tongue could track it. Scales moved easily over wooden planks, and he could feel the scurrying, scritching claws of his dinner, vibrating along his underside.

Slowly now, he slithered behind a crate, and the taste of his quarry became strong. He nosed into a small hole, and was overwhelmed with the anticipation. He cold "see" its warm blood, as it scurried about, in its own search for sustenance. Janus drew his long body up behind him, muscles tensing as he zeroed in. He became as an arrow fitted to the string of a drawn bow. Tensed and coiled, until his ignorant target strayed into reach.

It happened almost faster than he could imagine. Long sleek muscles flexed and uncoiled, and his head shot forward, his mouth opened, and his fangs unfolded. His mouth closed on furry neck, and his teeth found purchase. His venom pumped into the rat, lethal and fast, the rat was dying even as Janus looped and wrapped his body around it. He trapped its legs against it, to keep those claws from scratching him in its futile struggling against the inevitable.

He embraced his dinner, as it died, the warmth of the rats body helping him to stave off the loss of his own bloods heat. Long muscles felt the rats heart thundering, its own panic doing Janus' work for him, spreading his poison to lungs, stomach, and brain, in less than 15 seconds, that heart slowed and stopped, its life's work completed.

He needed to work quickly now, he knew. The rats body would start to move to room temperature, and he wanted it warm. He uncoiled, and released the neck from his mouth, He took the tip of the rats nose into his mouth, and realized, if he was to eat, he needed to open wider. Pulling back on his lower jaw, he felt it unhinge, a popping sensation, and not painful in the least. He wriggled his head back and forth, relaxing and opening wider,

He would bite and hold then wriggle forward, inching his dinner into his long throat, which relaxed and accomodated its girth. Head, shoulders, legs, fur, claws, even the tail, it felt so warm inside, it was life... it was survival... it was existence itself.

So full.... so sluggish.... he wriggled back out of the hole in the crate. One knot of warmth inside him, warming his blood, the rest of his body losing its heat, its energy, to the world around him. He knew he should go find some sunshine to bask in, or some fire to coil up near, bt that just wasn't practical. So, he slithered back to his sack of oats, and willed himself to become Janus with arms and legs once. more.

He tried not to think overmuch about the full feeling in his stomach, instead occupying his mind with what had just happened. He had been open to the grove accepting what was to come, and had been granted another gift, to confront the trials they were all to face. He could become a reptile, and be very at home in the catacombs. The Child had been in need, and the Father had provided. Beldrem always provided.