"I'm fast," I say, which he knows. The jaguar isn't good for long distances, but - "I think I remember. Let me - "

I do touch his face now, like I'm tracing the memory there. There have been moments of the jaguar in me, teeth and fury, but I haven't changed all the way. It hurts, forcing this body into another shape, more than it did with the old one. It feels more strange. But it makes me remember more.

I would set my teeth in Management's throat, if I was sure they had one (or more?), for what they did. But this will hurt them, yes. If this is what I can do for you, dearest, I will. I look up at him.