B*E*A*S*T* Of Burden

Somewhere in the Alaskan Wilderness
A split second after the shotgun blast echoed through the night, hot fire sliced through Rogan Wolfe�s left flank. With a cry laced with shock and pain, he went down, unable to run any longer. His soft grey fur was already matted with blood, and panic overtook him as he wondered if he were going to die in his shifted state. He tried to crawl away but knew it was futile, as his keen ears could already hear the thundering footsteps approaching of the one who�d shot him. Soft whimpers escaped him, and he would have had tears in his eyes--if he�d been human.
Deep despair tugged at him, and he cursed himself for making it all the way to the wilds of Alaska only to be shot by an over-zealous gunman who was moving in on his wife. Rogan growled at the thought, baring his teeth at his own frustration.
His tail thumped on the ground as he tried yet again to pull himself further along, yet he had no luck. His leg was useless.
�Rogan.� A familiar voice whispered to him from the foliage. �Christ, Rogan, shift! SHIFT!�
That was Wade�s voice. What had he said to do--shit? Rogan�s head was reeling, but he heard Wade�s voice hiss at him once again.
�Shift, you bastard!�
Rogan understood that time.
Wondering to himself why he should ever again do anything Wade suggested, Rogan took his advice and slowly shifted his body from a wolf into a human. The pain in his leg was sheer agony, and he cried out when he tried to move.
Within seconds, the gunman was upon him; Rogan could hear the man�s sharp intake of breath. Leaning his forehead on the cold snow, Rogan could do no more than surrender, hoping the man had more honor than to shoot him in the back.
�Jesus, Mister. You okay?�
�No, you idiot! I�ve been shot!�