Xaviers!

Tereza's first instinct is to fight it, but Isolde's advice seems to register and she anchors herself as she tries to let it be around her, but not inhabit her.

With nearly fifty years of being a creature of pure Id and instinct out of self preservation, the primal drive was familiar. She did have to remind herself that this time she was in a place of safety, this new shape was welcome and not a defense against prying fey lords. This time she did not need to fear and bury her emotions.

With a bemused wolf smile she looked down at her large clawed hands.

"Gold." She growled.

Tereza seems to soak up some of the extra madness. Her wolf, a creature of anger and impulse at its core, was brought out at a time when she thought the world could burn and hell could just freeze over. Her clawed hands clench as she grinds her teeth together. The wash of "new wolf" feeling brings some of that emotion back to the surface and she fights hard not to let the madness consume her in a rush.

"It's just pack here," the black wolf echoes along the link as she paces.

"Nothing to prove, no one to impress."

Vivienne had been stretching her limbs slowly, unfolding her new form along the grass when Isolde's pack connection touched her mind. There was a slight surprised "gasp" along the pack bond as Vivienne/Shewolf felt the connection for the first time.

"Others? There are others? There is pack? There is pack!" She was...happy. So very happy. She had been so lonely, they had been so lonely.

Others. Pack. The words seem to hit some chord in Tereza and her wolf, resonating between the two in harmony. Yes. Pack. The ones we must take care of.

There's two other wolves in Vivienne's immediate line of sight: One with black fur and one with silver-white fur. Just as she's bounding that way, a movement off to her right catches her eyes. There's a flash of white and something bounding away through the trees, catching her wolf's attention.

Tereza drops to all fours, moving ahead cautiously to approach Vivienne.

Vivienne crouched low watching the wood as Tereza approached. "Something there." She grumble-mumbled as she stood.

She was oddly long limbed and slim, closely resembling first generation cross of a Wolfhound or Deerhound and a wolf.

"Prey," Tereza sniffs, "Not..." She shakes her head, the contradictory scents of the Danger Room messing with her for a moment.

"Focus on the natural one. Ignore the metal and plastic."

Isolde pads around to join them.

After spending an evening chasing virtual deer, occasionally fighting when instincts get too high, and just generally being wolf-brained for the night, the Danger Room lets them go after they revert to human the next morning.