”Good t’ know. If I were t’ start somethin’ can y control it?” Control of the forms was Ranger’s chief concern. He didn’t care whether the form attacked him, except so far as it was attacking. Therefore, uncontrolled.

Carrick decided to try something different. He caught a water bottle and threw it back. Which was partially convenient as Ranger was running low on water bottles. Ranger wasn’t there to play catch however. Ranger caught it in his left hand and in the moment where he was tossing it to his right to throw it again, Carrick darted to the phone.

Ranger had to smile at Carrick. ”That’s good thinkin’.”

Carrick asked, “Now what.”

”I said it was good thinkin’.” Ranger picked up a tennis ball. ”It’s wrong, but good.” Ranger pulled his arm back to pitch a fastball and started where the phone left off, ”Here in the badlands baby we load up the trucks and on the way pick our cousins up…” Ranger threw the ball and reached for another.

The smug grin the thief was displaying quickly faded as the realization set in that he couldn’t get out of the remaining time in the session. The Texan slowly approached singing the remainder of the song as if he had it memorized for this moment. ”EH? What do you mean it’s wrong. You said as soon as the song was over! This is what I get to fer listening!” a tennis ball zoomed in smacked him in the chest then bounced back sending him staggering back.

The low rumble in the base of his chest started up again like an old engine that just couldn’t quit. He was irritated. He couldn’t talk his way out of the situation and couldn’t fly out. What was next? Anxiety set in when he dodged another tennis ball. They hurt, but he’d heal. He’d roar but the song would keep being sung. It had the makings of a great song. ‘Caged beast’ every singer worth anything had an angsty song. Carrick was up to a dozen.

‘Fight!’

Carrick’s last ditch effort to end the round ended in failure meaning he was out of options. Dropping the phone the shifter jumped to the corner and kicked off of it sending him towards the one who was attacking him.

‘Fight!’

”Fine! Fight! My terms!” he said to himself and his other forms letting them know he was indeed going to fight. His muscles tenses and flexed as his wings carried him directly towards the man he had been trying to avoid. If this was just training he’d survive. He’d done it with Maya, Shin and a few others. He kept his other ‘selves’ in check when doing so, so why was this so different? Because this guy scared him on a primal level. The Texan already shot him.

Carrick let out another lion’s roar as he tried to pounce the man who was still singing hoping to help him forget where he was in the song.

Ranger laughed as he sang. Carrick had listened and it was a creative solution. However, Ranger was a master at creative solutions. Phone stopped but there was more song left? Sing it yourself. Ta-da, song continues.

The tennis ball struck and Ranger readied another. The growl from deep in Carrick’s chest returned. That was good, Ranger wanted to see how far he could push Carrick but Carrick keep control.

Carrick however, decided to try and change the game. Instead of dodging like he was told, Carrick charged in toward Ranger. Ranger drew back to throw a ball as he sang the first line of the chorus again. Only as he brought his hand forward, he left the ball roll out over his hand and went to grab Carrick’s collar.

If Carrick wanted to make the mistake of getting close to Ranger again, Ranger would let him stay right there in arms reach for the rest of the song.

It didn’t help, he kept singing. Carrick normally would have loved to join in or play the background with an ‘OoooOooo’ or the classic ‘ah-ha’ but the current situation made him forget his love for music and a good time.

This was an internship, one that was keeping him out of a small cell. A leash was better than a cage and right now he had to keep his beast form under control till the end of the song. If his least favorite form was pushing for a fight. Giving it what it wanted worked before with rescuing the princess. Should work now right?

‘Fight’

Carrick was ready to take a tennis ball to the face, it would hurt. He’d heal. The fake out was a pleasant surprise. When the Texan faked him out and caught him by the collar the shifter chuckled and attempted a counter, by sliding his arm behind Hunt’s back and grabbing tight to the hand that grabbed his collar.

The Irishman dug deep and flapped his wings harder and faster than he had done in weeks. Which was impressive considering his hang over. ”Lift off.” was all he could manage through his irritation with the situation. He’d kick himself later for not thinking of something better. With his superior in arms he flew up then directly down.

Ranger caught hold of Carrick. Carrick reacted… poorly. Ranger would now be teaching Carrick a valuable lesson. If someone tries to keep you close, holding them close only helps them. Ranger kept singing as he slammed his other fist into Carrick’s side as Carrick lifted them off the ground.

The punches continued, followed by Ranger weaponizing his knees. Carrick went up and then back down to the ground. Carrick was slamming Ranger into things.

It hurt, but Ranger’s power kept any real damage from happening. It did buy Carrick a momentary reprieve in the pummeling. However, Ranger set back to punishing Carrick in earnest. His next swing was aimed at the griffon shifter’s jaw. All those nerves there made it a great place to hit. It often knocked out those who were unprepared and not use to taking hits there.

”******” the shifter cursed as he went up again, his idea to attack had backfired. With each blow to his body Carrick felt like he was a punching bag. Each time he exhaled and tried to steady his breath another string of curses ejected to through his mouth as if his breath and the curses were one in the same.

”Eejit!” Another blow. Every time he felt like dropping Mike Hunt he realized he couldn’t. They were holding on to each other, and the man was still ****ing singing. ”**** eat the wall” Carrick grunted the rumbling in his chest getting louder and louder.

‘Fight!’

Carrick kept ignoring the voice, though physically certain parts of his body started to look different. His canines grew, his fingernails started to come to a point along with his already pointed ears. The Irishman was still in control though, not of the fight but of himself, he was just at the tipping point. They flew into a wall, then the ground again. The Texan didn’t stop hitting him.

‘FIGHT!’

The straw that broke the camels back was when he caught the punch to the jaw. Normally he’d be able to shrug it off. How many bar fights had he been in recently? That number tripled when he started to hang out with Zek. How many times did his father or brother try to knock him out? His vision went, everything started to fade to black. His eyes shut and he fell to the ground. Golden bronzed wings snapped shut out of habit and he tumbled onto of the guy who was supposed to be ‘training’ him.

‘Danger. KILLLLL!’

His eyes snapped back open and instead of Carrick’s usual eyes with the mismatched color beast like slits appeared for his pupils. The warning signs of him losing control. It wasn’t his Gryphon form that answered the summons to protect the body they all inhabited it was the beast form. The one thing he worked so hard to suppress during the fight.

The shifter roared as his skin started to split as if he was breaking through a sheet of plastic. Bronzed fur erupted in a painful process of shedding one form for another. The song was over, Carrick couldn’t gloat. He was benched as his instincts took over.

A simple thought emerged. ‘Kill! Live!’

Carrick’s eyes narrowed on the one who threatened his existence. The Texan. Fangs bared and he leaned forward trying to maul the man who had shot him and beat him. Carrick was trying to survive.

The beatings continued. Contrary to usual, they did not continue until morale improved, rather they continued until Ranger finished the song. Maybe five to ten seconds early because the song normally ended with just music.

When Ranger finished singing he released Carrick’s collar and looked at the man. He looked just in time to see Carrick’s eyes go beast. ”Y’ didn’ do it durin’ the song at least.” Ranger admitted. THis followed the lett but not the spirit of the challenge.

”Don’ do it, Carrick.” Ranger warned right before Carrick, fangs bared, leaned toward him.

Ranger immediately pushed out with both hands. His power boosting his strength to force Carrick violently back. Ranger’s clothing stretched to accommodate the increase in the size of his musculature.

Furred ears flicked as the man spoke, it only furthered his rage. Someone who was beating him, who shot him? Now telling him what he could and couldn’t do. Not only that but he puffed out his chest threatening the beast form more.

‘Fight!’

Before the Irishman’s uncontrolled form could bite down and tear into the neck of the Texan the beast was pushed, or rather launched off his prey. Straight through the ceiling grid and lights that once hung overhead. The pain was momentary, the shock even shorter as the power to the room turned off leaving the room in darkness.

Carrick was partially caught in the grid till he managed to maneuver himself free. There were beams overhead and wires. He could escape, find a safe route to escape and recover. Rage. This man was threat, one that wouldn’t leave him be. Twice now he attacked. Carrick had to end this.

‘Kill!’

More ceiling tiles collapsed as Carrick dove through them snapping his wings open at the last-minute landing on the Texan swiping at him with claws that was capable of tearing flesh. Another roar, one that would establish why he was the ‘Alpha’ why he shouldn't flee.

Ranger’s push might have been a little overkill. Carrick sailed up through the drop ceiling into the plenum space. There was a quick sound of unhappy electricity after Carrick went through the lights and then darkness fell over the room.

There was the sound of a beast fighting with the mess of beams, duct, and cabling in the ceiling while Ranger’s eyes adjusted. There was a sound of snapping wings right before Ranger’s vision returned in the infrared spectrum. This gave Ranger the pleasant first sight of a heat image of Carrick in beast form swiping claws at Ranger.

His power still boosting his strength, Ranger couldn’t dodge. Instead he let the claws hit. Ranger’s defensive power moved from reinforcing his bones to preventing the laceration from the claws. Ranger roared in reply. It was pitiful in comparison. The animal kingdom has produced amazing roars. Humans, humans were not one of them.

”Y’ ain’t gunna win this fight.” Ranger barked as he took hold of Carrick’s limb that had failed to slice him and spun around once before driving the beast into the ground.

The roar in response failed to unnerve Carrick. He was louder, therefore the Alpha. It was the way of the animal kingdom after all.

The crack of the flesh and bone landing on the flooring would have been loud enough to be heard from a few feet away. It wasn’t enough to dismiss the fight itself though for the shifter. The former Irishman struggled with his footing and attempted to roll out of it but was still being held firm as if he was caught into some sort of trap.

‘Pain!’

The shifter inhaled the pain and exhaled a roared again attempting to pull it’s arm free from the Texan’s grip. Would he have to gnaw it off if he couldn’t pull it free? The thought should have been clear as day as his feral side stared at the man’s hand then looked to his own arm. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make. It prevent him from going back into a cage anything was worth his freedom.

>>>”Y’ ain’t gunna win this fight.”

The man was taunting the shifter now. He was strong. Strong like Carrick’s father. The man was angry, like Carrick’s father. Rage, anger, pain and defiance was all the beast felt at that moment. Something it shared with the main form.

”F-F-F*** off.” was all that exited the beasts throat instead of a roar this time. He pulled his arm again. His pupils rounded in the darkness giving hope that Carrick was fighting for control. If only the one who was training him could see it.

The cracks that came from Carrick's bones didn't stop Ranger. Ranger knew the other man could heal. The goalpost was stopping the beast form. If Carrick wrestled control and stopped that would work. Otherwise, Ranger would force the beast to submit or fall unconscious.

Carrick tried to pull away, but Ranger held a vise-like grip. The fact that Carrick spoke on response might be an indication Carrick was taking back control, but Ranger had no way to know for sure.

"Y' wanted t' be close earlier. I'm jus' helpin' that." Ranger said before he pulled Carrick closer so he could repeatedly lash out with his knee.

>>>"Y' wanted t' be close earlier. I'm jus' helpin' that."

The shifter went from attempting to flee willing to gnaw off his own hand to escape to getting kneed in the chest repeatedly. The beast’s tactics weren’t working. Normally they had such good results. Slash, maul, roar and repeat. It had worked in the past so why wasn’t it working on the Texan.

‘Fight’

‘Getting our ass kicked’ thought Carrick managing to chime in the way his other forms chimed in when he was in control. The beast struggled to get free still getting hit several more times before the other hand shot forward to push down with all it’s might to block the knee from doing any more damage. It was Carrick’s fighting experience that coaxed the move out from the beast.

While he was stronger and faster in this form it seemed it didn’t matter to Mike Hunt, the shifter was outclassed and it was enough for even his other forms to understand it. The ones that didn’t want believe that there was someone better. Another Alpha.

”Rggggghhhh, N-ot me type!” Carrick said through gritted teeth. His body was in pain; from the shift, from the beating and from the hangover. The shifter felt his fist launch forward for an attempt of another scratch but stopped short when he felt control in his hand again. Instead of slashing at Hunt, Carrick offered a middle finger.

Ranger continued to drive his knee into Carrick. Each strike delivered more force than the last. Ranger was unsure if pain compliance was the best way to go about getting someone who healed super fast under control. It wasn’t an option that would leave any permanent damage so it was a good enough place to start.

”Y’r not really mine either.” Ranger said as he went to try and catch Carrick’s fist. Upon seeing Carrick extend a middle finger, Ranger stopped kneeing Carrick. ”Y’ back in control there, friend?” He asked, maintaining his vise hold on Carrick’s arm.

”Glad we got that settled.” the shifter continued to struggle feeling his hand tremble the more the two of the chatted despite him being in the beast form. It was difficult to say the least. Something that would have been apparent to any who could see him, or had seen him shift in the past.

‘Fight! Kill!’ His eyes narrowed on the Texan, the man caused him so much pain, he too deserved pain. To be put in his place. To acknowledge the Alpha. Only that wasn’t what was happening. The shifters head was hurting. It was hard to maintain focus. ”Trying ta. Stop hitting me!” Carrick growled baring his fangs, his furred face still snarling at the man. The will to hurt him was still there but his body didn’t act on it.

Carrick was taking control again, his human form. The one that wasn’t focused on killing, eating or mating. The more ‘rational’ one. ”Rggghhhh leetgo!” Carrick shouted before turning his head back and roaring out in pain as he ‘triggered’ his shift himself. Something that a year ago would have been impossible if you asked the thief.

Painful of a process as shifting turning back at least gave him mental clarity. He was reminded of what he was, who he was and what he wanted. It also left him naked usually and drenched in sweat and clumped fur. ”**** sakes I need a pint.” the shifter finally said winching and grabbing his head as if it was the cause of his pain and not the beating he just got.

Carrick demanded Ranger stop hitting him. Ranger Made a noise like he was considering it. When Carrick wanted Ranger to let go, Ranger complied. Adding,

”Alright, but if y’ come at me again then the beating will continue until morale improves.”

Ranger took a couple of steps back. He watched as Carrick returned to his human form. Seeing that Ranger walked over to one of the tables and grabbed a can from a minifridge. Conveniently there was only one kind of beer as Ranger couldn’t see any of the writing through inferred.

When Carrick said he needed a pint, Ranger tossed the man a can of LoneStar beer and said, ”Catch.” He then pulled out another can for himself. ”As promised, some Armadillo piss.” A cheap beer that had earned its colorful nickname.