The last place Dean wanted to be was the middle of the forest in November but people were being killed by a mysterious creature and he needed to help, yadda yadda yadda. The snow was thick on the ground and Dean could feel the flecks that made their way inside of his boots. He looked around at the quiet forest, searching for tracks in the snow as he went.

The afternoon spun made the ice sparkle as he kept searching for clues. Eventually, he stumbled onto some tracks. Human feet, bare feet, which was the first red flag, but slowly they changed into... fox prints? Dean tensed as he realized that he was on the trail of a monster. He grabbed his rifle off his shoulder and got it ready.

After another few minutes of walking, he saw it. A red fox. It was playing in the snow, leaping and bounding through the cold, shoving its face in the snow in an attempt to catch a vole. Dean watched quietly as the fox played, trying to fight back the awe he felt, reminding himself that the fox was not a fox. It was likely the monster he was after and even if it wasn't, it definitely wasn't normal. He flicked the safety off his gun, but the tiny click it made was enough. The fox turn its head to look at him, ears perked up in alarm. Shit, well there goes my element of surprise, Dean thought to himself as he stood stock still.

The fox seemed to sniff the air, assessing every detail. It seemed to know that Dean wasn't a normal hunter, that we hunted something special. Time stood still for a moment before the fox started to transform into a man. A very naked man, but a man nonetheless. It was strange, most shapeshifters shed their skin or need blood to change shape, but whatever this was, it could change form all on its own.

"What the-" Dean spoke up before he could help himself.