Alister huffed and laid down on the couch next to you, his scruff scratching the top of your head gently. "M'so not ready for tonight," He grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Transforming hurt. And then the rest of the night was him embarrassing himself as a car sized wolf with the mindset of a golden retriever. Last time he shifted he'd spent all night running around in the creek and trying to catch fish clumsily.

"No more recording... it's not funny when you pretend to throw a ball. S'rude."