the rules of the wild kingdom

Malia isn't sure how this is happening. She's never been rooted to the spot before. It's like she's got this wall on every side, invisible but present, holding her in place. She looks around, gauging her own strength, and growls a little, deep in her belly, when she tries — and fails — to break free. She's sure it's some kind of magic at work. She knows the Darach could probably have done something like this, even though she hadn't been around for that.

Her eyes flash blue as she tries to struggle, but nothing happens. She feels her teeth and claws grow. No. No, not here. Malia takes a deep breath and tries to will them away. It isn't easy. She's nervous — almost afraid — and it's hard to control herself enough as it is.

Control. Acceptance. Release.

She's alright. She's fine. Whatever this is, it isn't harmful. Yet. She just needs to calm down. Control. Acceptance. Release.. Malia closes her eyes and takes a deep, slow breath through her nose. She can smell all of the people and food around her. She can smell her friends. It's soothing. She's with people she can trust.

She feels her claws retract, and her fangs follow suit. Her eyes are still vibrantly blue when she opens them, but even that fades a little when she looks around again.

"Um. A little help?" she asks.